Long Slinger Poems
Long Slinger Poems. Below are the most popular long Slinger by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slinger poems by poem length and keyword.
This is the closest that I have ever been to a funeral for more than forty years, a young boy just eighteen was shot dead for stealing
I sat quietly on the school veranda and watch the hearse drive into the yard and parked on the property that house the church and the school. I saw them arranging the chairs the day before
But I did not know what was going on for sure, so I inquired within. I could hardly believe that it was a funeral, neatly adorned blue and white ribbons, everything looked so divine and pristine. The casket and the dressing was so pure, it looked like a romantic wedding on the sand shore. I watched people streaming in and I could feel the fire burning within, no tear no smile, just a useless grin and the chatter and the laughter has caused me to wonder. I could hardly believe that it was a funeral because the dress code was very loud, short miniskirts and party shirt, and a fashion that was so impure, the old ladies, the young girls, and men galore, some not ready for the season and they come without a reason. I could not tell who was close to the youth because no one was telling the truth. The hearse parked in front of me and I heard a sniffling and continuous talking, a man that looked like the father of the youth was crying for truth because it was his son lying beside the gun. He seemed a bit anxious but he did not fuss He had the expression of an officer and a body of a father. I could see deep remorse in his eyes and the spirit of God standing by. At quarter past twelve the service began to bury dead. I could hear bits and pieces of the sermon as the procession roll along, a thief? A gun slinger and a potential murder his innocence was so hard to tell. The day was already done and there was no more room to have fun.A young man whose life was taken too soon was destined for doom, the shouting from the pulpit and rebuke from the sermon could not bring back the dead to life.
The procession ended with a happy song and the minstrel marched along. Sunrise, sun set the spirit of death rolled up the street and community followed the hearse to the cemetery.
The Celestial NAAFI
Well there sits old Buck like he always did,
Waving his pipe and tilting his lid.
There’s Johnny and Ronny and Shep and old Taffy,
And Soapy still doing his impression of Daffy.
Flapper all quiet at the side with McGraw.
Knocker and Geordie, and old Billy Shore.
And over there’s Banjo, spinning his yarns,
And Bod with his girlfriends, trying to dance.
There’s Baggins and Pusser, Slinger and Freddy,
There’s Millie with Googie – they look like they’re ready.
With Annie and Jo-Jo, it looks like old Hutch
Is making sure he hasn’t lost his light touch.
While Jeffers and Benjy are dealing the cards,
Doc still complains that that the games are too hard.
The faces familiar, the uniforms right,
All fitting perfect, none loose and none tight.
Everyone’s happy and looking their best,
From bulled-up toe-caps to the gongs on their chests.
Back by the bar are the older lads too,
Who went long before, whom none of us knew.
Blue suits and red coats, khaki and green,
All badges and headgear that ever were seen.
Ancient or modern, by sea, land or air,
Be sure of a welcome when it’s time to be there.
Raise a hand and smile, shout a cheery Hello!
To the Celestial NAAFI, where Service Folk go.
The Gunman
In Montreal, in a bar frequented by shadowy
people who used French phrases, making money
fraud and mayhem, I bought a revolver that still
had five bullets in its chamber
The next morning, our ship was bound for Japan.
I worried about the gun, perhaps used in a heist
where someone got killed, and there was
The Kennedys are still in our memory
Chief, they said, you look absent-minded, what's
Wrong, nothing is wrong. I have a slight cold.
Near the Sea of Japan, I threw the weapon overboard
because I knew if I had a gun when I was growing up
I would, in my anger, have used a gun
I threw the revolver overboard, and an hour later, the
cartridges I didn't want they to meet up
The next day, I was my old self, free of guilt
His artistry is unpolluted and revolutionary.
The way he pushes color across his world
is a miracle.
Whorls of potato-like people dancing.
Dashes and blots of undiscovered animals.
I like his black lightning streak strikes.
A squarish-lemon meringue sun.
Orange finned tuna flying without fins.
A crucifix lies within the letters of his name.
He's wielding a slashing, strong palette tonight.
Prolific slinger of colors you are, young one.
Your mind must be tiring-mine certainly is
You're on a bright blue forest blitz.
One last fit of color for the night
always well outside the lines,
He finally puts the palette away.
Bowing to a milk and cookie sunset.
His fingers stained with a rainbow's premonition.
The artist sleeping like a cherub, beside a giant plastic ant.
Just When We Thought
By Franklin Price
2/29/2016
Just when we thought that politics
Had reached the lowest it could go
They've stopped slinging mud by hand
Resorted to a big back hoe
There's only one who's good at it
Has done it from the very start
The other two for catching up
Are trying now sling their a part
They're digging holes and not a ditch
It's evident their mud is thin
Hard to throw, and will not stick
Thin mud slinging cannot win
Sadly equipped for taking part
Apprentices who should not linger
Get back to the issues quickly
They're up against a master slinger
dawn dual duel
two poets
a face-off duel joust
free verse rhyme verse
a modernist traditionalist
mull and muse tell it true
prompt a reaction lay it out there
lover of words, jarring lover of pattern, rhyming
readers response individual readers all delight alike
anything goes on loose lines strict punctuation and meter
memories jogged and jangled memories lovingly recalled
stark and confronting language beautiful nice melodious words
leaves reader's questions unanswered readers cherish the poems like songs
10 free steps 10 syllables
bang bang
both dead
duel done
babel babble
He did his hash slinger training
Then with a couple of his mates
Set up this high class restaurant
Where they didn’t bother with plates,
Just bits of brickkies rubble,
Guttering and such,
Jam jars and slabs of wood
Stuff not costing very much,
And they served minutest portions
Arranged with artistic taste
Just little appetisers really
So very little went to waste.
And they did the strangest things
Like serving food in hay
Even chocolate covered ants
One special gourmet day.
Folk came from near and far
Just to be seen
Eating his creations of
Advanced Nouvelle Cuisine.
And they charged the highest prices
Just to keep it riff raff free
And so very very soon
It became the place to be.
They worked and they strived
Seldom long serving the same
And so they managed to stay
Well ahead of the game
And they thrived and multiplied
Were franchised all over the nation
With proposals from America
And internationalisation,
They got gongs from Palace
And nobody ever knew
They’d only been to night class
To do Catering, NVQ Level Two.
Then came a call from on high
The Palace of Westminster beckoned
He stood a good chance
So the Party Hierarchy reckoned.
It was touch and it was go
But he only just got beat
Standing for the Tories
In a very marginal seat.
Thus he’d proved that old adage,
If you’re daring and brash and bold
The people will swallow
Any old garbage that they’re sold.
Who'd have thought it so easy to run a great nation,
No requirement for Congress or Supreme Court confirmation.
All you needs a Twitter handle and Executive Orders,
That's his guarantee to secure our fine borders.
While the Constitution is one thing you shouldn't discount,
It appears to be one notch below his Facebook account.
So put down your protests and give him his due,
If the President tweets it you know it is true!
So far it's not been so great, maybe we've been took,
By a bigly bull slinger who's probably a crook.
With mindless occupation on hits, likes, and views,
Don't you need a fake president to dish out fake news?
The guy beaks off like a loon...his thoughts meander,
But sauce for the goose make sources for slander.
We may even glimpse hope every now and then,
Too bad YouTwitFace is mightier than the pen.
Slinging Stuff
The Book of Judges talks of slingers.
Seven hundred strong, all left- wingers.
The Bible tells us they were terribly feared.
They could split a hair on an enemy’s beard.
And besides the ability to split a hair,
The force of the stones, flying through the air,
Whatever it hit, didn’t have a prayer,
The equivalent of a.44 to bear.
How far, you ask, could these stones kill?
Almost 400 feet with moderate skill.
In the Roman army, the slingers drilled holes,
In their bullets with specific goals.
The sound, was found, when the stones would fly,
Shrill and buzzing, made the enemy’s throat dry.
More accurate than troops with bow and arrow,
The slingers were feared, to the enemy’s marrow.
We’re reminded of David, the young boy shepherd,
Also a slinger, killing wolf and leopard.
Goliath was slow and feeble of sight.
He never had a chance of winning this fight.
So the real story is not just David, the boy.
It’s about a slinger the Israelites managed to deploy.
You cheated in our relationship
You said one thing, and it was actually for another
Supposed to be number one
Turned out into no number at all
I was put on pause
You were the cause
Always stepping out
Here and there all about
Mr. Swinger and Ms. Slinger
Decided to investigate
Catch you in the act
Wasted no time
I found your address book
It wasn’t hard taking a look
Went on the mission quest
Spotted you sitting at the bar with some other women
Drinking to your heart’s content
Time was my pursuit
You acted surprised
You didn’t realize, but a camera pointed and now there is proof you cheated
Every excuse you tried
Nothing you said made any sense
You were busted on the spot
Now who is locked out now
Your female split and left swiftly
Never to return
When will you learn?
Now have a new attitude
As for you, now a conclude
Found someone else who loves me for me
He knows how to soothe
His dancing is ever smooth
A cheater locked out and loss
I was the forbidden force
Alone in your mess
So long sucker, you didn’t do your best
I could care less.