Long Sixth Poems
Long Sixth Poems. Below are the most popular long Sixth by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sixth poems by poem length and keyword.
He exists in the shade of the mandrake plant,
It is his only passion in this twisted world;
Face down in the dirt- drugged and delirious,
Does not care if he wakes up or who walks by;
Hey man, it is what it is, just keep walking.
Is he alive, better take his pulse, go away,
And in his hallucination, a giant with one eye;
Takes him up and away, to a high nasty place,
Who is he, who was he, of no consequence really;
His family tree is lost in a dream, forgotten.
He comes in and out of warped dreams horrific,
Tears and thoughts of suicide, maybe kill someone;
It seems like a real good idea, but he fights it,
Cause, hey, God hates a coward like him;
He used to play his music, once ..
Yeah, once upon a time, he had some pedigree . .
_____________________________
March 25, 2016
Poetry/Verse/Once He Had Some Pedigree
Copyright Protected, ID 16-771-949-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym
Inspiration - Lyrics - God Hates A Coward by Tomahawk
For the contest, Lyrics,
sponsor, Rob Carmack
Sixth Place
Moronica’s ruler is in a situation no good.
Herman the Sixth and Seven-Eights is chopping wood.
Yes, this poor guy is now a deposed king.
How could Messrs. Ump-chay, Iks-nay, and Am-scray do such a thing?
King Herman has been ousted from his throne.
Ruling in his place is someone name Moe Hailstone.
Hailstone and his henchmen have turned the world upside-down.
Each one of these fools is a moronic clown.
Moe conspires to put each Axis partner on the shelf.
He will not share the world. He wants it for himself.
Herman’s daughter has an idea to solve it all:
She puts high explosives inside a billiard ball.
Get Hailstone and his friends to start a big fight.
Someone will hit the ball, and it’s good night.
I won’t go any further. That is all I have to say.
Want to find out what happened? Just watch the short today.
Based on the 1941 Columbia Pictures short subject titled “I’ll Never Heil Again”
starring the Three Stooges.
His past finally caught up with him...
The killer waited silently in the man's room.
His gun cocked as footsteps approached.
The key jiggled in the lock of the door.
The man stepped inside, unaware of his fate.
Three shots rang out, dropping him to the floor.
The shooter ran from the room towards the exit.
A car awaited on the corner of the street.
It slowly pulled up as he came out.
Nobody saw them as they drove away.
Back inside, the man lay in a pool of blood.
His life flashed before him in the final seconds.
Where did it all go wrong?
Six years ago...
The job was supposed to be simple.
Three men on the inside, two on lookout.
He was the sixth man, the getaway driver.
The jewelry store had been cased weeks before.
Every detail was planned in advance.
The target was the cache of diamonds in the safe.
The four Hasidic merchants were elderly and frail.
It seemed like easy pickings for the gang.
The driver waited nervously as they went in.
Moments later, several shots were fired.
There was the sound of shattering glass.
In what seemed like an eternity, one man exited.
He was covered in blood and staggering towards the street.
The two lookouts ran over to assist him.
One of them waved frantically to the man in the car.
The sound of the alarm sent the driver into a panic.
He saw police cars rapidly approaching in the distance,
then did a U-Turn and fled the scene.
He could see one of his partners in the rear view mirror.
He was standing in the middle of the street, gun raised.
Two shots were fired in his direction.
The lookout spun around to confront the cops.
The last thing the driver saw was his body being riddled.
The two survivors of the robbery had their day in court.
The judge sentenced them to fifteen years hard labor.
The driver headed out of state and went north.
After searching for days, he found a quiet town to live in.
He acquired a job as a janitor at the high school.
He spent most of the time in his small apartment.
Anonymity seemed to be his best protection.
Little did he know, his partners were paroled early.
Serving only five years due to good behavior.
They only had one thing on their minds...Revenge!
A year later, they got it.
Bessie Blount, lady-in-waiting, gave him a bastard son.
Catherine was first true wife, who birthed his daughter.
Anne Boleyn, lady-in-waiting, caused king to divorce.
The king wants what he wants, a legitimate son.
Henry the 8th
what a treat
ain’t he sweet
not so much...
Anne births another daughter, and loses her head.
Jane Seymour, yet another lady-in-waiting, nets a son.
She then dies from complications. Life is complicated.
Anne of Cleves was not to the king’s liking; ugly.
Henry the 8th
what a treat
ain’t he sweet
not so much...
Married six months, then labeled as his sister; what!?
Fatso, ahem I mean the king, married another Catherine.
She was executed for adultery and treason, though
nicknamed, “rose without a thorn;” thorn in his side.
Henry the 8th
what a treat
ain’t he sweet
not so much...
Spirited, educated, Henry's sixth wife, Catherine outlived him.
She brought peace and stability and cared for his kids.
Six wives would eventually die, some young, not old,
all beautiful ‘cept for one. Relative to the king? Not so great.
11/1/2020
Caren Krutsinger’s SIX RELATIVES
Natalie has been to five Paralympics, including Rio,
And recently took the bronze at World Powerlifting,
In Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia 2016, IPC World Cup -
It paralleled her Glasgow silver, Commonwealths.
She lifts in the 61kg class, but in Malaysia lifted a PB
Of 98kg. In 2013 at the Euros, Russia, she won silver,
And in 2015 at the Euros in Hungary she won bronze.
She’s competed longer than any other in powerlifting.
After finishing sixth at Rio she remarked: “I’m happy
with how I've done, I was hoping to get 3 good lifts
but just missed out on my 2nd. I'm pleased to clear
93kg, overall it was an amazing atmosphere, brilliant.”
She was beautiful like the rainbow.
Her fragrant smiling words of luminance. .
Unleashed adrenaline into his mind..
with tactile thoughts of proximal paradise.
His five senses collaborated a screenplay. ..
with billions of brilliant tangled neurons.
He imagined... .the fantasy of being in love.
But deep in the sky of his heart..
Gathered dark chasing clouds.
Storms of rain, snow, sand, fire..
swirled up the grey matter.
The trident crooned,... "Probably","Possibly", "Surely"..
Temperature rises to drop the pressure..
A storm breaks inside the brain.
The folds and crease immerse in chaotic squall.
Pulverises the pernicious clouds.
Thunderstorms rumble loud.
Sparks of lightning flicker.
Perfidious friction is now visible.
Resonance of sight and sound.
In ledger of brain transactions drowned.
A sullen algebra of equations..
with iterations of sixth sense
convolute a restless nexus of unknown variables.
With fearless freedom, the brain breaks and shakes..
A hurricane of frustration. .
A tornado of desperation. .
Yes..He endured the disruptive baritone storm.
It crashed him hard..
He muttered, " It's just a passing crush ".
A thick blanket wraps and obscures the windows of his eyes.
The impending rain peacefully waits for the sun..
for the beautiful rainbow of true love
16th October 2018.
Placed 3rd WIN position in the contest.
Submitted for BRAINSTORM poetry contest sponsored by John Hamilton.
Contest description: 1 original, poem on the theme of BRAINSTORM , an inside compassionate view into a fractured mind; the winning poem will be full of emotion and drama. Minimum 12 lines maximum 40 lines. Free verse is only acceptable form.
Cold front brings August respite
upon cusp of autumn quite
natural palliative to forget monetary plight
relieving spate of dog days of summer
seasonal crisp balm appeared overnight
evidenced of late by Jeeves
cool temperatures at night
temporarily bumping ugly
global warming with moonlight
sonata courtesy mother nature
perfect bonfire weather courtesy lignite
kept burning chaste cheerful pro bono
strong arm moored Sir Lancelot knight
sinewy physique, muscularly lean
apropos appellation applied Jack Lite
doubling up as Jack Frost
i.e. old man winter based
on Farmer's almanac
forecasters, who possess
sixth sense insight
predicting harsh winter, yeah right
as if standing atop shoulders of giants
towering, rivaling, overshadowing...
Jack and beanstalk re: fabulous height
seedy tale Aesop pose ghostwrite
ten and/or retold by Flora Annie Steel
fanciful imaginative flight
first appeared as The Story to delight
kids all ages of Jack Spriggins and
the Enchanted Bean in 1734 quite
similar to goose that laid golden egg
wishful thinking miniature
cogs and wheels spin
furiously at midnight
fantasizing escaping out
maws o' penury plight
accepting hand to mouth existence
experiencing pleasant distraction
as fall weather doth excite
reminding me seasonal change
could kindle potential playwright
within, which storyline outright
fabrication trumpeting rich mogul
comprising make believe webbed world
frees yours truly 24/7 nightmarish fright
one forlorn bummer groveling along...
holding transformative amulet tight
precious stone of malachite
imparting deep energy cleaning,
bringing healing powers that
powers love delight.
F-og floating in the air fades,
L-ights in the sky shine;
O-ne dawn has just broken,
R-ainy day becomes fine.
E-vening shadows are gone,
N-ew morn has shown up;
C-old chill has turned warm,
E-arly sunrise won't stop.
M-ist has cleared the air,
E-very place is in good view;
D-ark haze has just turned
I-nto brightness anew.
N-o longer I see the dusk as the twilight is nowhere to see;
A-pril sixth seems fair for the weather is kind to me.
E-ven though the clouds gather
B-eneath the lanes up high;
U-nder the heaven above,
E-yes that watch don't cry.
N-o single tear is falling down on your pretty face;
G-ood wishes are coming into your heart's inner space.
The grandchild was so proud,
Her Mother had just told her she had a sixth sense,
Not wanting to burst her bubble, Granddad congratulated her,
Before telling her she had six more to go.
Are you sure Granddad she said,
Well I am sure of at least Five of them he said
Can you remember what they are she asked of him?
So I can tell Mum.
Yes, I remember He said,
Number seven is a sense of fun,
Number eight a sense of wonder,
Number nine is common sense,
Which is not that common,
But it will get you to number ten,
A sense of time,
Number eleven is a sense of responsibility
Number twelve,
Well, not everybody gets to number twelve,
And if they do they only keep it for a short while.
What is it, Grandpa she said Tell me so I can try and get it?
It is sense of reality my darling and I am not always sure if I still have it.
How many has Mummy got grandpa was her final question?
Well, she never did have much of a sense of time,
But she did get the rest and she does know we are real,
So I make that eleven for her.
I know what you mean about time Grandpa she said,
Mummy is always getting mixed up about my bedtime.
VIRGIN
Virginity made a promise to always remain a virgin
It’s all pride and dignity; so careful, least all will cave in
She got the deep well locked; not even her fingers can go in
She describes it all as homage to morality and the sixth law
Ignorant of any canal knowledge of man; she doesn’t know the excitement there is to cum
She is keeping to the doctrine that maintains that all should keep their virginity
Virginity is virtue we heard; all we witness now is lack of opportunity
Many claim to be virgins by unbroken hymen; though their mind is all slutty
Have all and leave one; have fun but no ****.
She has not known a man but sure sucked the little man
The boy is a virgin but has got his fingers impersonating the little man
He swears to be a virgin that hasn’t holed a girl but busy making the hole with his hand
He has no carnal knowledge of a lady; but knows how to make his little man stand
He is still a virgin but serves his anus to man as a ****
It’s funny that the young nun is sucking her own breast and fingering her own ****
The church is her smokescreen alibi; broadcasting the virtue in virginity
Virginity is dead; has no value and shows no integrity
The contemporary time has forgotten if any value was ever attached to that word
This is clearer than the Babylonians hand-writing on the wall; no need for a visionary
Crystal said clear! Virginity lost its virginity; just another word in the dictionary...
Lordvip
August,2013.