Long Smith Poems
Long Smith Poems. Below are the most popular long Smith by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Smith poems by poem length and keyword.
Leisurely walk around Lords non stop pop of champagne cork
Scorecard dork does chalk the first over from Will O’Rourke
Another flowering Kiwi tree who gets the ball to talk & fork
While towering style of Kyle with guile & wile gall fans gawk
Doff your hat to Matt who really is all that aficionados squawk
Smith another hawk with similar riff for this tiff swing will stalk
Serious talent apparent not transparent with delirious torque
Balk one last refrain from the reign of Kane the Kiwi bulwark
If it grips rips what pips seeing Glenn Phillips flips & fillips
Golden arm charm can disarm like when baby Joe in skips
With Kane masters and pastors of snips missing the slips
Nudges nurdles overcomes hurdles as fans lick their lips
Never ruffled by kerfuffles silky shuffles and wristy whips
Express bouncer nips & dips caress the ball off their hips
Finesse not largesse witness their prowess heavenly sips
Zach having been so cack defence so slack got the sack
No coming back picked from the pack Gay to have a crack
Not out of whack got the knack this season has got a stack
Trust plucky Ducky again gets lucky no vastly ghastly hack
Stokesy becomes like Wokesy bat & ball gets us off the rack
Dirty Harry not shirty silly willy nilly hill billy flirty is like smack
In Ashes dung Tongue among the flashes of changing tack
No Josh tosh stung with gung ho bolts flung stumps thwack
Tongue climbs a rung with pace he brung others made us yack
Golly after much flak jolly Ollie the wally again leads the attack
After scold behold in from the cold part of fold & in the black
Coz after Oz fires our tyres flat just old hat we need a new jack
If not too chatty no cheeky drag on sneaky f*g or fatty snack
Hopefully no folly he will be fit on the track give us bit we lack
No off his trolley verbal volley Ollie could be return of the Mac
It is fear that I’m now after
Awaiting in silence... awaiting its unnatural embrace
Too afraid perhaps to finally bother
This one excitement for a triggering chase
Why are there so much in life to fear?
Alike all thoughts and reasons... its simply a choice
Are we all afraid to let go that which dears?
Or perhaps our mirroring selves are the perfect decoys
Yet it puzzles me... whence to accept
Fear which I seek, I can no longer feel
My mirrored existence, simply a shadow met
Knowing nothing more can ever be as real
We do not dare enter our own illusion
As humans... perhaps we have too much of assumptions
Why not draft anew, an unseen perception?
Than fool ourselves in our very own deceptions
Somehow... it becomes harder to feel hereafter
Lost and in dire, shadows darkening to chase
My silence spats fear no longer
Is there not a time I’m to remember its unnatural embrace?
Inspired by Will Smith in the movie After Earth
Dinner and dancing, perfect first date
Conversation flowing easily, it's going great
Breeze blowing her long auburn hair
Down towards the sea we disappear
Midnight stroll on the starlit beach
The perfect girl finally within reach
Moonlight illuminates her pretty face
Elegance, beauty, full of grace
Slowly, tenderly, our hands entwine
Hearts race she’s so divine
Can’t believe she is mine
My knees going weak
From her exotic mystique
My lips do shiver
A kiss she delivers
Hand in hand
Across the sand
Dreaming of wonderland
Two hearts
Love starts
Forever
10~19~14
Contest :I do not know Sponsor:- Andrea Dietrich
Collaboration Jan Allison & Tim Smith
~awarded 4th place~
Overlooked-by Dominique Smith
Can you cry the ocean so those in need can come over with a boat? No but I ca- Can you fix a window with the scraps of band-aid? No, But I ca- Can you burn like the paddles who can bring life back to the barren waste land?! No but I ca- Do you know the future is going to be bright because the sun will be blocking the fear of those with their eyes closed!? No but I ca- I have had enough!
Who are you? Why cant you speak!? Can take the acid and razors to the back door so only the weak will prevail!? Can you take the smoke from a factory pull it into the lungs of the ratchet!? Can you put the bullet from a misfire to the right target? Left hand up right leg to the dirt. Have the tragedy of the unknown really come forth to tell us the last site of humanity? Can you bring the head of the insightful to tears with nothing more mere gesture of your eye? Well, no but I ca- Im not done! Can you regrow the heart lost to those who have fought? They have fought for those spitting in their homes that will never get the dired poison out of the carpet of rage?
Well? Speak! Speak! Where .... where are you? A note found on the drift of the air " I cant fight, I can't cure, I cant bring life into the dead condition of those have been washed with acid, I cant pray or study enough to bring the blood to the living in the beds of the damned. I can however love, listen, encourage, remind those who are lost that life isnt a trial for people who are
Awe & shock bowlers in the dock our warlock & glock “the judge”
Rapscallion and stallion wrangling with dangling golden medallion
Facing the pacing battalion on our latest sinking Caribbean galleon
Our burly oracle with each follicle so curly a rock that won't budge
In that 90’s dungeon Robin our classy curmudgeon brassy bludgeon
Truncheon fine dining on a hurly burly Courtenay & Curtly luncheon
Calms alarms and qualms delivers us from harm with stoic heroic psalms
Call to arms more like baobabs than palms those offside charms “the Judge”
Speedsters scary & lairy others wary prime time for our hairy chest fairy
Robin our pace Pontiff willow ace not a whiff or a riff or sniff of what if
Believers in his jobbing levers will go biff in any tiff that's the pith of Smith
Not just a county squire but quite possibly the ultimate Hampshire Sire
Calling card hit it so hard earned the fable label of both BATman & Robin
Hall of fame name can’t smudge hats doff to a complete one off “the Judge”
Thomas Turkey is trying to avoid the dreaded chopping block!
He's trying to become inconspicuous amongst the teeming flock!
As you thank the Good Lord this year for your many blessings,
Nothing would taste sweeter than Peking duck with your dressings!
Kith and kin, may I recommend, might prefer a roast of beef.
Surely, that would save my friends and me a whole heap o' grief!
Goose, roasted tender and brown, you might consider for your fare.
Instead of turkey to grace your board, how about some wild hare!
Vanity, the haughty eagles's trait, which I think is so absurd,
Is what won it the honor of being selected for the national bird!
Now, 'tis well known that Mr. Franklin wanted us for that role.
Good try, Ben my boy! May God bless your thoughtful soul!
During the Thanksgiving Season I'm finding it so hard to relax,
As I scurry about to and fro trying to elude that fearsome axe!
You'd be dining on roasted eagle for Thanksgiving if Ben had had his way!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 7 in Dane Ann Smith-Johnson's "Thanksgiving Day" Contest - Dec 2010
Billy Smith was poor and it did show
His rich relatives didn't want to know
They had their cars and barbecues
And howled at Billy’s worn out shoes.
Billy went for a walk and on the ground
Saw a shiny thing, a brand new pound
Bought a lotto ticket he had nothing to lose
But should have bought glue to fix them shoes.
That night he was sitting, watching T.V.
And up came the results for the lottery
He looked at his ticket, in total surprise
He had six numbers; couldn't believe his eyes.
Some twenty years later Billy passed away
His relatives had looked forward to this day
For the funeral some had travelled miles
Wearing Sunday best and big false smiles.
He was a lovely man they’d all say
But a big surprise was coming their way
They couldn't care less about poor Bill
Only interested in what was in his will.
Three weeks later Billy’s will was read
And in it this is what the statement said
There is not one relative here today
That is going to gain in any way.
I was down on my luck you shut your door
You didn't want to know me anymore
You heard of my win, you circled around
My money I've given to the dog pound.
And here is something else that is in hand
By your houses I've purchased all the land
A sewage farm will be built that you'll see
When you open your windows, remember me.
Written 28th February 2018.
What is a poem if not a song
Just add the melody
And sing along
What is a poem if not a dance
Gliding across the page
with moves to enchant
What is a poem if not a rose
as words bring it to bloom
in sweet repose
What is a poem if not a butterfly
fluttering of the page
and up to the sky!
Joseph May
What is a poem but a caring letter
Sending love and advice
To make you feel better
Judy Ball
What is a poem if not a flower
Beautiful blossoms
Climb cerebral bowers
Daniel Turner
What is a poem, if not life
So much emotion
To stamp out worldly strife
Harry Horsman
What is a poem if not a word
Within words, singing
images unheard
Darren White
What is a poem if not a rainbow
Adding many colors
That leaves a glow
Alexis Y.
What is a poem, if not a voice of expression
many thoughts expressed,
in so few lines
Jeremy Smith
*If you wish to add to this poem, I will add it with your name.
three lines, start with what is a poem.
I can't control the wind
I woke up this morning,
not much to do, I said.
So children were woken,
and into the kitchen I went.
But something happened, as water was poured for tea.
this kitchen i said, oh my oh no, look how messy.
As my hands slipped into hot wet bubbles,
I got busy with brush and plate.
Feeling wound up, into dishes I delved
making dishes my own safe place.
A frenzied morning before work begins
I feel so out of control,
then I remember, though shocked I was,
I cannot control the wind.
Try as I might, strive strong and long
I seem to be losing this fight,
kids go left when I say right,
and I realize once again, i cannot control the wind.
Grow up strong, grow up proud, get a job, get paid,
So I push and ponder and power through each very very long day
Meetings, chats and Telegram, its all too much
stop I'll try but i realise, I cannot control the wind.
Nothing I do and nothing I say,
can I manipulate a moment to go my way.
I stomp around busy all day
and screech, STOP, I have had enough.
In a pause, a moment to breathe,
sanity slowly returns, and I realise
I am only me and I cannot control the wind!
So clenched hands open and feet stand still,
as surrender I do, all control
to a God that knows it all.
Who smiles at my effort,
but knew from end to begin
his daughter full of passion, purpose and pride,
cannot control the wind.
As I slow to a stop, refocusing on Him,
I realise something so true.
The one that created the world and breathed life into everything,
It is Him and only He, who can control the wind.
Chantelle Smith
21 September 2020
Deep within the city park
stood Barnaby, a highly
grumpy, semi- sentient apple
tree.
He absolutely despised
when children approached
with fawning, goofy faces to
steal his fruit.
Whenever kids giggled and
reached up, Barnaby would
furiously shake his wooden
branches.
THWACK! A barrage of ripe,
juicy red apples went flying
like heat- seeking missiles.
He pelted the screaming kids
right on their bottoms, chuckling
a low, creaky laugh.
The children thought it was a
hilarious game and ran through
the park intentionally.
They made ridiculous,
exaggerated kissy- faces just
to trigger the tree's flying fruit
defense.
Barnaby snorted woodchips,
launching a rapid- fire green
Granny Smith straight at a
nose.
The park echoed with loud,
joyful snorts as apples
bounced harmlessly off
targeted bellies.
The grumpy tree finally
smiled, realizing his thrown
treats made everyone incredibly
happy.