Long Rock n roll Poems
Long Rock n roll Poems. Below are the most popular long Rock n roll by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rock n roll poems by poem length and keyword.
WHAT
WHAT If Tootsie Rolls™ could Rock N Roll
And Duncan Hines ™could run and hide
WHAT
If Mr Clean™ could cook and clean
How much Miss Butterworth™ be worth
If she'ld leaked and poured all her syrup on the dirt, WHAT
Have you ever had cake mix and licorice
WHAT
Untied Nikes™ loose your stride
While running on a stroll WHAT
Getting tired call a cab a, Hertz™rent a car for a ride
What'd you say dirty/clean clothes in my Whirlpool ™washing machine
WHAT
Needing some Kool-Aid ™
Cause it's 103°
WHAT
Yet it's cool in the park
Under trees near dusk
What?
12/12/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr ©
Recently I heard of some third world migrant
Complaining that unlike back in her home
There is no culture here, and
That “white culture” doesn’t even exist.
My first thought,
She sure is confident in her ignorance.
But then realize maybe she can’t see it
Because it’s too subtle for her,
Not loud enough and colorful enough
To get and hold her attention.
And that what is loud and colorful here
Is often just so damn cheap and tawdry;
I’m thinking
Gaudy rappers to Walmart shoppers
Disneyland characters to Hollywood’s
Red carpet galas.
Western culture for the most part
Is derivative of other older cultures;
The printing press and gunpowder
Of Asia for instance,
The fine woven fabrics of Persia
Spices of India, and foods of everywhere.
What the West has that stands out
Is a tradition of revolutionary ideas,
From Greece to the American Constitution.
And it’s these ideas that have freed the individual
From the dogma and chains of tradition
And benefitted the world
With its innovations;
From abolition, to electricity,
Transportation, to rock ‘n roll.
Maybe being from a third world country
Those things don’t excite you.
Maybe you enjoy having slaves,
Simple dirt floors and bright dusty clothes.
I for one also like acoustic music the most
Just as I do traveling by foot.
But there is nothing
Like the sound of an electric guitar
Tearing through space, tearing my mind open
And leaving it transcended of time and space.
Besides all the obvious attributes of white culture;
Pasta, pizza, burgers, hot dogs and whiskey
Blue jeans, nylon, plastics, cell phones and AC
Are the subtle ones
That are more of an acquired taste
Sci-fi novels, quantum physics and the notion
Of where we’ll go
Through that disruptive tear in time and space.
(9/21/26)
Some mornings,
memory returns the way sunlight used to~
slow, golden, unhurried,
slipping through venetian blinds
of a house that always smelled
of black coffee and Mother’s cooking.
I remember the stillness of those early hours,
the way the world felt half-awake,
as if holding its breath before noon crept in.
I recall bare feet on linoleum,
the screen door closing with a gentle click,
the kitchen radio playing rock n’ roll,
its tunes lingering in my memory.
There were gravel roads that knew my name,
porch steps warmed by summer sun,
and sky so wide it felt like a forever promise.
Back then, time moved like a small stream~
steady, certain,
carrying us forward without our noticing
how far we’d drifted.
Now, when memory rises,
it brings the same quiet comfort
as a familiar hymn sung softly~
a reminder that the past never truly leaves.
It lingers,
warm as a hand on my shoulder,
gentle as Mother’s voice calling me home.
There has to be a heaven for musicians
A place for old singers to go
Their music still touches our lives
As they did years ago
Ray Charles transcended music type
From country to rock to blues
Ritchie Valens was only seventeen
When his death hit the morning news
Jim Croce sang about Leroy Brown
While Nillson would croon Without You
Janis Joplin would make you rock
And Stevie Ray would make you blue
I still watch old Ozzie and Harriet shows
Just to hear Ricky Nelson sing
Harry Chapin took his last Taxi ride
And Elvis is still the king
John sang of peace and love
While George's guitar would gently weep
Conway's music wasn't Make Believe
I hear their music in my sleep
John Denver's in the Rocky Mountains High
And Del Shannon seeks his Runaway
Rainy Days and Mondays made Karen sigh
While Otis sat On the Dock of the Bay
Jimi Hendrix played the meanest guitar
Roy's voice couldn't get any higher
Bobby Darin searched Beyond the Sea
And Jim Morrison said Light My Fire
There has to be a Heaven for musicians
For all those who have paid their dues
Where the music will live forever
From rock n' roll to rhythm and blues.
No matter how silly you think it is
Tell us your favourite dream
There's nothing that can surprise us
Heard lots of tales and schemes!
How about one where you're flying
Surveying the country below
Maybe you're ruler of a distant land
With a magic wand that glows!
Or what if you could be the captain
Of a great ocean going liner
A clown in a colourful marching parade
Could there be anything finer?
Bet you haven't thought of this one
A drummer in a rock 'n roll band
Or how about a pitcher for the Yankees
A lifeguard all muscled and tanned!
Have you ever wished you were Santa
Handing out Christmas prizes
Or an opera singer like Pavarotti
A super hero with many disguises!
I guess all of this just goes to prove
No matter how hard you scheme
It's best to be just the person you are
After all, dreams are only dreams!
©Jack Ellison 2012
Oh... that sound I can feel it..
Running through my veins.
It resonates every part of me..
I can hear it calling my name.
It's teasing my inner rhythm..
It's toying with my heart.
I can't resist this feeling..
But I don't know where to start.
I'm trembling with excitement..
My feet begin to move..
I'm swaying with the motion..
I'm tuned into the groove.
My lost kindred spirit..
Always playing to my soul.
Trying to reconnect the music..
Bringing back my rock n roll.
It will always be part of me..
No one will ever take it away.
Living freely in the moment..
My Vibe will always stay!
We've been given three months to leave
- How on earth will it be possible to pack
Sixty years of family, what we've achieved
Sentimental objects we can't claim back
Assured the kids we're more than capable
Taking care of daily tasks, we easily manage
- Dylan told me the house looks disgraceful
- Hazardous, tripping might cause us damage
Jean is cleaning the living room, uptight
Lathered over what we'll have to discard
I assure her, love, we're gonna be alright
We'll muck through, darl, I know it's hard
Thing about us is, life's been a struggle
Despite us marrying in post war prosper
Had four kids, health problems to juggle
- now it's every second day at the doctor
The hip's twinging pretty bad, old tin shed
has seen better days, musty air greets me
- Two hours of digging, damn me dead..!
Dusty black box pops up, spot to play CDs
Hurry my haul into my dusting flustered wife
Jean, my sweet, amazing - this just appeared
Haven't had stereo in years, old one hit strife
My love's soft face shon suddenly with tears
Reminiscing with our records, compact discs
Urge took me to embrace her, spin, lurch about
Hip flexors maneuvering, did mere music assist?
Knees improved hugely, bopped to 'Twist n Shout'
Spun my love on open clear carpeted floor
Squeal of delight was utter music to my ears
We swayed, clung together, sung songs adored
Sweeter times in our midst, best I've felt in years
14th September
really needed to bring writing back (briefly)
from the sex edges and murder borders
P E A C E
My first that loved me in new ways.
From an A-frame in Arters Mill’s country,
To parties on a Charm City’s river.
Stoned in the rush and hope of our youth,
As memories were cured in crimson and gold,
Certain songs started playing on your radio.
Reminding me of a choice I didn’t want,
And the only thing I couldn’t give you.
Your virtue denied me other excuses,
Leaving me alone fighting the truth.
I kept stalling for change or the right time,
Taking twelve rounds to realize, neither was coming
To save me from hurting you.
Twenty five years later,
And it still feels like a sin.
A Proverb’s woman far above the rubies,
Breaking and keeping those parts of me wishing,
That I had loved you.
-------------------------------
Contest: I love Rock n Roll
Inspired by the song:
‘A Man I’ll Never Be’
by Boston
Soldiers Soldier
David J Walker
That Facebook picture I posted is a
Perfecting likeness
of the way I remember you
A soldiers-soldier
1st Sgt … Top
The N C O I C for all occasions
Checking beds &
Checks heads
Checking to make sure we were
Present in the present
And dressed as the best
dress right dress soldiers
The early morning leader of
A three-mile run before chow
There needs to be a panel on the Wall
For soldiers like you who survived it all
In the Nam only to die
of the invisible wounds
Later
When they buried you
I could not be there
But still took my place
on a handle of your casket
and saluted as they played taps
unable to hide my tears
We have since sat together
Sharing many beers in a bar
You quietly listening as I talk about
Old times – Our times
Sometimes
people stare a stop and stare
At the old man mumbling
A chortle alone
Sometimes humming an ancient
Rock n roll song
That Facebook picture haunts my phone
Good Girls
Good girls eat chocolate and hide under bridges
Go to church on Sundays, pray for superman’s position
Join rock-n-roll bands and use a hammer
On men who cross them in any manner
Wear Panama hats, smoke Cuban cigars
Dive into bed where they eat pickles
Good girls get pregnant while gulping down ice cream
Reciting the rosary one bead at a time
Bless themselves after each abortion
Drift off to sleep, snore like the beast
Drink morning coffee black and cold
Before going off to war
Twist themselves into a pretzel
Kiss one another for pleasure
Good girls do as they are told
Grow old, start again like broken records