Long Roger Poems
Long Roger Poems. Below are the most popular long Roger by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Roger poems by poem length and keyword.
How boot a mud pie for the birthday girl?
(yes, that would be the snoozing missus,
hook lames to need mooch beauty sleep),
hence who might not arise for bajillion years.
Thou me noggin forced to remember
how me heart used to ache
asper in no help
to relieve anticipatory anxiety
doth suddenly find this
(24/7 day tripper sleeper) wide awake,
now mine dearest beloved,
ye need not break
these lovely bones remembering,
if yaw completed lix piddle orbitz
axing age iz fatalistic rhetorical question,
finding yours truly escorted to lake
chock full of fierce
allidiles or crocogators,
now worm eye gonna
get the most perfect Earth friendly cake,
rather than dastardly duck
that husbandly role i.e. man drake,
thus what better way
this stormy July sixth, 2019
to express moony times,
aye did pastimes forsake
feigning, pretending, trumpeting
loving thee tubby "FAKE,"
now...haim twice the man
I used tubby - formerly rake
hush long haired pencil necked geek
though in face of adversity still meek,
yet every now and again
rare instances flashes peek
a boo analogous to happy
go lucky boyhood doth sneak
out from down underground
self long suppressed
many times multiplied
by 52 times 7 days a week,
thus by gosh by golly
fingers quickly tap dance
akin to celebrating holly
day hootin n hollerin like jolly
roger, who pirated some loot
unlike captives feeling melancholy,
or akin to cracker offered
than immediately retracted from Polly
nonetheless, she might suggest some idea
worth parroting, thus I lob and volley
poetic pitch to thee anonymous reader
unbeknownst to me if got pie in the sky idea
how to appease wife, one costly human feeder
who gobbles everything in her wake
not affixed down with mortise
and tenon made of cedar.
After the matinee flick, we were hyped,
dodging Luger waving krauts;
returning fire with machine gun fingers.
Roger said his granny was Bavarian
and got mad at me when I said
they were all bastards.
Roger’s mum told him
that he was great looking,
that got me mad, my mum never had,
and Roger’s mum was hot.
The talk turned to girls.
Roger had only kissed his mum,
but I had once seen a girl almost naked,
that made Roger mad.
Years later we had a threesome
with a German girl.
I could see that Roger was really handsome.
She was keener on him than me,
that made me mad at him
and her.
“Dream if you can a courtyard
An ocean of violets in bloom
Animals strike curious poses
They feel the heat
The heat between me and you” Prince (Prince Roger Nelson)
I am a die-hard fan of Prince and have been for many years
His music has evoked my emotions from desire to tears
I was in high school when his album “Purple Rain” debuted
It was at that time that his music was all I listened to and pursued
“When doves cry” is one of my favorite Prince songs to listen to
His performance was like magic to watch him dance, and what a view
In his medieval costume of his purple cape, ruffled shirt and heels
A talented performer who captured fame, singing and gyrating squeals
I bought a video of one of his concerts and tried to hide my VCR tape
My parents were not fans of my Prince musical video escape
I researched his life to discover that he was a musical genius at a young age
On his first album he composed all the music and was fearful to get on stage
My friend would come over and we would wait until my parents went to bed
And dig out the concert video and watch as sensual fantasies filled our heads
“When doves Cry” stirred up our fascination as our hormones were raging on
For years I have enjoyed listening to his music and sad that he is now gone
recall your childhood
when you were so unaware of being a child
walking with swinging arms
babbling with chatter box like a brook
unencumbered by opinions, beliefs
unspoiled by graces and airs
unaware of age and wrinkles
when everyone was treated the same
open to suggestions, real and fanciful
unabashedly self-centered
used to be being spoilt and gushed upon
tugged like puppet on adult hand strings
so readily swayed by silliness and bribes
yet so hard to be shifted away from this to that
when tantrums popped-up to show displeasure
not ashamed to ask question about difficult things
never caring about the day and date
never caring about being early or late
when all was play, and being creative
with the simplest of things.
Imagining pirates and Jolly Roger.
playing with lumps of wood in sandpit
seeing dump trucks, and bulldozers
play embellished with sound effects
grins and smiles, totally absorbed.
Perhaps its time to bring back
the childlike love of play, joie de vie
and the simple tiny-handed grasp of life
showing such freedom, liberté
devoid of consequences.
Andrea
Teacher/communicator, wordsmith, night owl, and loyal friend
Daughter of Roger and Jean
Lover of her family, her independence, and simple pleasures
Who feels joy in life's sunlight, stress from things now stealing it away, and a sense of foreboding that brings her sleepless nights
Who fears the waning of her sun, loss of normalcy, and new struggles coming to the world.
Who would like to see global harmony, opportunities for everyone to live a decent life, and old boyfriends the way they are today!
Resident of "Happy Valley," Utah
Dietrich
Written 9/23/2012 and now entered into the Portrait of a Poet Contest
of Gautami Phookan
Foggy mists engulfed the bright
When raindrops fell throughout the night
The lampposts glowed at midnights dark,
When sweethearts kissed at Lover's Park
Soaked wet through with glistening skin
Revealing all true love within
Drenched and over awed by charms
Entranced as held in each other's arms
The fluid rhythms, realm of rain
Where lamplights stream did gild the lane
Wet leaves dripped dreams from tinseled trees
And pulses flowed like rolling seas
The sultry spark of lover's kiss
Roused the feeling of lukewarm bliss
The tender touch of misty blow
Caused the heated hearts to glow
They sizzled and sparked like firework display
The world around them faded away
Transported to another place
Locked inside their warm embrace
Together they braved the soaking rains
For they were lost in lover's lanes
They could not bear to say goodbyes
Lost in the storm of lover's eyes
Passions roused beneath a silent moon
Hanging onto skies where stars are strewn
Rhythms of dreams ripe for the taking
Trembling in the kisses, utterly earthshaking
"Waves gently lapped the shore nearby
As we embraced, my love and I
My fingers touched my sweethearts hair
It felt like silk, so soft and fair"
Twas the splendour of their sweet kiss
That led to years of intense bliss
Gentle rainfall a lamppost glow
Enhanced the stellar, long ago
Although the rain then turned to hail,
They kissed until the moon was pale;
And he was found by mornings light,
alone, all drained of blood and white
Stanza 1 (Charles Messina) Stanza 2 (Dilly Dally)
Stanza 3 (Susan Ashley) Stanza 4 (Roger Carvis)
Stanza 5 (Natasha L Scragg) Stanza 6 (Andy Chunn)
Stanza 7 (Regina McIntosh) Stanza 8 (Andrea Dietrich)
Stanza 9 (Belle Bellevue) Stanza 10 (Jack Horne)
You were born in 1924 and you died in 2011.
You died one year ago today at the age of 87.
My grandparents gave me one of your records in the late seventies.
And I bought another of your records at a flea market in 1983.
It's a fact that you were a great pianist.
You were talented and you will be missed.
You began recording for Kapp Records in the fifties.
You did an amazing job when you performed Born Free.
In 2010 you were inducted into the Hit Parade Hall of fame.
When you died of pancreatic cancer, it was a damn shame.
You made beautiful music with those piano chords.
Now you're in Heaven playing the piano for the Lord.
(Dedicated to Roger Williams who passed away October 8, 2011.)
[In Loving Memory of Pam and Roger Schulte]
Love can be found in the heavens up high,
Look up to visit them, and be their guest-
As these two rings reunite in the sky.
Even if not seen by the human eye,
These two lovers meet in an angel's nest-
Love can be found in the heavens up high.
The fingers of these two angels now tie,
Having prevailed through every mortal test-
As these two rings reunite in the sky.
Their love still remains true; and they both sigh
As their hearts now beat in a single chest-
Love can be found in the heavens up high.
To ringing bells, now hand in hand they fly;
In wedding clothes, they are forever dressed-
As these two rings reunite in the sky.
With this precious thought, let our eyes now dry;
For to have known them, we've truly been blessed.
Love can be found in the heavens up high,
As these two rings reunite in the sky.
© 2017
Listen, my dears, and I'll tell you a tale
Of a princess, a pirate, and glory.
There's a shipwreck, a rescue,
A romance, a ransom,
And a handicapped whale in the story.
There once was a princess, fairest of all,
But also quite vain and spoiled rotten.
She had a semi-private
Affair with a pirate
That would be but for me now forgotten.
The pirate, Mad Jack, was bloodthirsty and crude,
When upset, he'd explode, blow his top off.
Merchant vessels he sank,
Made their crews walk the plank,
Or, more rudely, their heads he would lop off.
One day Princess Daphne set out to sea
With her maid, they were bound for Majorca.
But the maid, in a gale,
Was swept over the rail
And inhaled by an asthmatic orca.
Lifeboats were lowered, the crew clambered in
And rowed quickly away, only thinking
Of saving their own necks,
Not the princess below decks
Left alone on a wreck that was sinking.
Then through the storm a ship hove into view,
At first Daphne thought it would dodge her.
But before she could hail her,
She felt courage fail her,
From its mast flew a vast Jolly Roger.
When Princess Daphne was brought before Jack,
She was haughty but thought he was handsome.
But to his greedy eyes
This fair royal prize
Represented a shipload of ransom.
But Jack was still human, Daphne was too,
And soon they were sharing their privates.
To his quarters she moved
And his crew all approved,
No one loves a love tale more than pirates.
But what of the ransom, yet to be paid?
Well, here the plot gets even deeper.
The stingy king said to Jack,
"No, I don't want her back.
It's cheaper for me if you keep her."
So Princess Daphne became Jack's sea wife,
And though common, but not mandatory,
When they became parents
They stopped being pirates
And passed peacefully out of the story.
For now then, my dears, that's the end of my tale,
An adventurous one hard to equal.
But, if I may be so bold,
And there's more to be told,
It may one day unfold in a sequel.
I Cannot Be Any Moar Pacific!
A welcome reprieve
against blistering hazy,
hot and humid
meteorological suffocating air
found me voluntarily
hermetically sealing myself
within a climate controlled
one bedroom apartment
this Schwenksville, Pennsylvania
(actually originally Lake
Woebegone) transplant
getting acclimated to the
summer weather in Zaire,
this country determined, sans
while "blindfolded," directed,
and guided while seated
in my state of the art bedchair,
hence such chance decision,
where yours truly,
would spend the following year
gunslinging, fellow
shipping, and engaging
with bountiful mutineers
while piloting corsair
outlandishly ludicrous, incredibly
flimsy, and carelessly
held together by wirehair
with an equally
ratty motley crue
forcing yours truly
to "FAKE" being debonair,
this (Baritone Horn playing)
privateer did veer
really did mark hood
lee did quickly
twain tubby chief engineer
accomplishing (as
resident poetic web stir)
re: alias Muddy
Waters ("Roger") unclear
breathing sigh of relief,
I did not go over with
my trademark mind boggling flair
to sow confusion
within the mindscape
of one or more readers
will cause him/
her to go thermonuclear
ready to choke, gas, or throttle me
as he/she doth glare
intimidating such prediction analogously
like Moby Dick reacting violently
when Cap'n Ahab thrust a spear!