Long Song women Poems
Long Song women Poems. Below are the most popular long Song women by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Song women poems by poem length and keyword.
You blocked traffic for a dance vid,
until the cop threatened the cuffs,
batted your eyes to deal with him,
then his words got rather tough.
You charmed a man to get free drinks,
were shocked when he didn’t bite,
complained online ’bout ‘how men are,’
commenters laughed half the night.
You’re not hot enough to be this crazy,
you’re not hot enough to be this daft,
you’re doing things only a ten can,
a seven can’t pull off stuff like that.
Looks only go so far,
don’t matter who you are…no,
you’re not hot enough to be that crazy,
the real world doesn’t put up with crap.
Put your bikini pics online,
tried to get money from simps,
then raved for the whole world to see
when some troll called you a blimp.
You declared that you were ‘poly,’
told your boyfriend to understand,
he left and those who came sniffing
were not close to ‘your type of man.’
You’re not hot enough to be this crazy,
you’re not hot enough to be this daft,
you’re doing things only a ten can,
a seven can’t pull off stuff like that.
Big fish in our small town,
but oceans drag you down...no,
you’re not hot enough to be that crazy,
the real world doesn’t put up with crap.
There is no use denying
hot girls can get away with things,
it’s something that they always trust,
to make a tool our of our lust.
And though this seems a brutal fact,
you’re really not equipped for that,
so find some common sense again,
or aim you show at ugly men!
You’re not hot enough to be this crazy,
you’re not hot enough to be this daft,
you’re doing things only a ten can,
a seven can’t pull off stuff like that.
I know it isn’t fair,
Double standards don’t care…no,
you’re not hot enough to be that crazy,
the real world doesn’t put up with crap.
I'm not a gullable guy
who settles for less;
and I like to see
more women like yourself!
If freedom is what you choose,
it's fine...as long as it
won't defeat my purpose,
and keep my ego intact!
Be as patient
as you can be,
men must protect
and love their women...
in ways to amaze them;
and it still holds true today!
I'm not looking for heart-breaks,
to watch tears fall down a woman's face;
I'll break the rules and compromise
when the need arises!
Men,love your women a lot,
give them true affection
and ignite in them more passion
with the quickest spark:
to feel what most men are afraid to show...
for the fear of losing their adored pride!
The quickest spart
is a surest way to an eager heart;
the quickes spark
can give bring light where it was awfully dark!
A young man, barely twenty-one,
On the town in search of fun.
The wrong side of the railroad track
And somehow never made it back.
A pickup truck, a black guitar…
I thought that they would take me far.
But music with no solid plan
Meant nothing when I met Suzanne.
Used to think that I was strong.
Those days are forever gone.
Want to know what led me wrong?
Blame the whiskey, women, and song.
Another seedy barroom stage.
Drinks and tips, our only wage.
But we had such sweet harmonies,
Ecstasies and agonies.
So, coast to coast, that highway song.
I thought we were where we belong.
But life moves like an old cliché
And Becky stole my heart away.
Used to think that I was strong.
Those days are forever gone.
Want to know what led me wrong?
Blame the whiskey, women, and song.
Our dreams will always let us down…
We were camped just out of town.
Me and Becky on the street
I sang my songs, she tapped her feet.
The liquor store was dark that night.
Truly locked up good and tight.
Breaking in was kind of fun
But then we had to cut and run.
Used to think that I was strong.
Those days are forever gone.
Want to know what led me wrong?
Blame the whiskey, women, and song.
The next week Becky said goodbye.
So I gave Annie Sue a try.
She stayed with me until the Spring
But couldn’t live without a ring.
A one man show once again.
Just me alone until the end.
A bottle of my favorite brew
I guess will somehow get me through.
Used to think that I was strong.
Those days are forever gone.
Want to know what led me wrong?
Blame the whiskey, women, and song.
An old man now, so many years
Same old dreams, the same old fears.
Still on the wrong side of the track
Too late now, no going back…
Used to think that I was strong.
Those days are forever gone.
Want to know what led me wrong?
Blame the whiskey, women, and song.
to the men in lab coats with horns like unto goats,
an open confession of a minor isotope:
I -- so -- Hope that a day shall dawn
when men no longer long
for the things that do not belong
and are, oh so wrong
for mine and your and his and her song.
Have you heard the song we sing?
Like a toad's song on a summer night,
or wedding bells that ring,
for the virgin in white,
pure as the driven snow?
No?
Know what?
The toad hoards the dream to sing
with a voice not broken
and a chorus not of croaking
but alas! he keeps choking
on the flies of his own lies
as SHE (the queen mother) belies,
bequeathed yet bespoken
to a king, comely, and oft misspoken.
I (not one to spread misgivings
and false learnings), I give you, Miss, a token.
A token of a key in a minor chord
for the song worth singing
from Hell's lowest floorboard
to Heaven's own pearly door.
Take it and run, never to show a soul
but place it safely in the hole
in your face and swallow it whole.
In your belly it will thrive
-- half dead but all alive --
until the time is right and the beat is clear.
Then you will belt your song
for the Universe to hear.
Sing it strong and carry the notes so long.
Doubt it not, for you cannot be wrong.
Know ye now
that from whence the world was frozen --
that you, my dear, were already pre-chosen
and the path for you was already paved
that through this song of mine
and yours
and his
and hers,
thou woman, through your song
mankind shall be saved.
Urban Sonnet
Is it so hard to say the things you feel?
Why seal up thoughts in words that beg for truth?
I braced myself to read a languid spiel
and first assayed to read it as a youth.
When that was done, I scoured it like a sleuth
and found these parts, considered most uncouth.
I read: her odd mouth makes his heart so wise.
The line about her ghostly smile is weird;
and note the one regarding her strange eyes.
His conversation tells just what is feared...
he sees her beauty, something to be smeared.
E. wrote love sonnets not to be revered.
Before its birth, this liaison is done;
a Halloweenish picture, poet notes.
If he had read King Solomon for fun,
then Cumming's Song of Songs might well use quotes
from the wise king, "your hair, a flock of goats."
"your teeth, like sheep, newly shorn of their coats."
Presenting notions from which women part,
such "unreality" would break my heart.
April 24, 2019
Urban Sonnet Poetry Contest by Emile Pinet
my urban sonnet (above) reveals my first reaction to this sonnet (below)
Unrealities. III by E.E. Cummings
it is at moments after i have dreamed
of the rare entertainment of your eyes,
when (being fool to fancy) i have deemed
with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise;
at moments when the glassy darkness holds
the genuine apparition of your smile
(it was through tears always) and silence moulds
such strangeness as was mine a little while;
moments when my once more illustrious arms
are filled with fascination, when my breast
wears the intolerant brightness of your charms:
one pierced moment whiter than the rest
--turning from the tremendous lie of sleep
i watch the roses of the day grow deep.
At Aphrodite's birthplace stands a shrine, where men have worshiped Venus drunk on wine
And sipped the nectar not lent from the vine, of this world, Oh this world
From daughter unto daughter flowers unfurl, in this world, Oh this world
In this world, Oh this world
If Paradise was opening the Pearl, to find the grinding oyster of this world
To irritate to make a mate to hold, but hesitate to break the Siren's hold
Then in the end that strength becomes a burl, and ugly grows the nature of this world
Of this world, Oh this world
She comes unburdened by this careless world, too soon to labor neath those baby curls
Because all of the power in this world, rests on the broader shoulders of this world
Of this world, Oh this world
Of this world, Oh this world
The iron fist inside the velvet glove, would drape those lovely shoulders with fake pearls
And weight those shapely shoulders they would whirl, through this world, Oh this world
Through this world, Oh this world
Among the greatest voices muses blessed, one never had the chance to lull to rest
Never got to sing a lullaby, to the daughter stolen from her side
To the daughter stolen from her side
From the daughter to the mother of the pearl
Of this world, Oh this world
In this world, Oh this world
—A Song for Women Everywhere—
Verse I
I walked where the dark earth breathes after rain,
Where roots write stories under the ground;
The wind moved softly through leaf and grain
Like an ancient remembering sound.
There in that quiet my spirit learned
How the patient powers of life are earned.
Verse II
For Nature works without trumpet or throne—
She gathers the light, she shelters the seed;
Through storm and winter she stands alone,
Still giving the world the breath it needs.
The river may wound her banks with its flow,
Yet forests rise where her deep roots grow.
Pre-Chorus
And slowly the living truth appeared—
The same bright fire in women burns here.
Chorus
O daughters of courage, daughters of flame,
Steady as oceans and bright as the skies—
The world may falter, the world may change,
But hope is the light in your living eyes.
So here I stand, in honour and truth:
The Earth is stronger wherever you move.
Verse III
For woman carries that quiet might—
Not thunder alone, but the strength to renew;
She gathers the broken pieces of night
And shapes them gently into the new.
Where bitterness hardens the hearts of men,
She plants tomorrow again and again.
Verse IV
Once in an orchard the twilight broke—
Light stepped living from bark and air;
A silent brightness the branches spoke,
And every stone seemed awake and aware.
I asked no reason for what I had seen—
Some truths are larger than thought has been.
Repeat Chorus
Bridge
Yet still there burns in the depths of all
A star no measure of mind can claim;
For mystery answers no proud call—
And wonder itself protects that flame.
Final Chorus
O daughters of courage, daughters of flame,
Rising like dawn where the long nights cease—
Through patience, mercy, and quiet strength
You bend the hard arc of the world toward peace.
And from the deepest place in my soul
I bow to the women who make us whole.
Outro
For wherever a woman stands in grace,
the future quietly takes its place.
This here brois the Slow Man's Rap.
This slow man knows where it's at.
I'm never condescending. I'm always offending.
But being what I am is a job that's never ending.
I got my ways. I got my days, when people of
different shades look at me in strange ways.
I don't care. I have no fear.
Didn't cause no one's troubles.
I got my own. I just do my thing.
Then I go home.
So don't blame me, if you don't feel free, and
why don't you just let me....go to sleep.
This here slow man treats life like toy.
Don't believe in sorrow. I believe in joy.
Don't believe in fighting. I believe in rhyming.
And making the best of my too short timing.
Cause my bomb will blow, when my fuse burns low,
and life's got to move. Not fast, but slow.
Feeling fine, feeling free, feeling fun...
under the sun.
I've paid my dues and and sang my blues.
Now it's time to put on my walking shoes.
The thing is here, the thing is back.
The thing is coming at you with the master rap.
I got women on the left.
I got women on the right
I got work in the middle.
And this is my wife.
I'm one slow Joe, but a lot is what I know.
And I can't speak jive but, I know I'm alive.
I'm up and down, and all around.
Don't act like a clown, cause I rock this town.
I'm flying like a bird.
I am the word.
Now that I've bored you with my name.
And my stupid little game.
It's time that everyone go insane.
So, have a good time. On the party line.
Where the fun is so fine.
And laid on the line.
Enough with the rapping.
Let's see some hands start clapping.
Some feet start stamping, and
lot's of dancing.
Or whatever
Or whatever
Or whatever
Y'all
Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit. Hit it
Get with it.
Get with it.
Women so fine.
A bottle of wine.
A real good time.
I ran out of lines.
Moving my feet, to the master beat.
Looking nice and looking neat.
Move your feet
Move your feet.
Move, move those feet.
Hit it.
One last time.
One last time.
One last time.
Nevermind
Nevermind.