Long Stan Poems
Long Stan Poems. Below are the most popular long Stan by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stan poems by poem length and keyword.
Silly Billy had no fear, he drowned it in a case of beer.
Handy Andie so adept, kept so busy, she never slept.
Dirty Donna did what you wanna, she lived just down the street.
You didn't have to ask her twice, she was so nice and very sweet.
Hairy Larry all alone, made the women grimace and groan.
Very scary in his approach, girls would crush him like a roach.
Steady Betty, always ready with what ever it took.
Found a way to save the day, be it by hook or crook.
Stan the man does what he can no matter what it takes.
Always appalled by what has happened, then says for goodness sakes.
Gabby Abby giggles and talks with nary a concern.
I wonder if there'll ever be a time she'll ever learn.
Bob the slob wouldn't get a job, he did nothing all day.
He looked a mess, and yes I guess, there's nothing left to say.
Chatty Patty talked so much, she developed lock jaw.
You'd think that that would slow her down, but nah.
Dorky Doug had quite the mug, he looked a little askew.
When he'd greet you on the street, you didn't know what to do.
Nick the stick was very quick, always on the go.
He never walked, he always ran, the word slow, he didn't know.
Guilty Milty quite the guy. He never looked you in the eye.
If you caught him at his game, instead of shame, he'd rather die.
Ditzy Mitzy, not a clue, in her ear, you'd see clear through.
Sandy Sandy, on the beach, the young men she would beseech.
Their young minds she couldn't reach, but that's not what she tried to teach.
Loser Lenny always played, what it cost, he never weighed.
Didn't know when to walk away, should have left, but always stayed.
Pervy Peter made skin crawl, I'm guessing his was pretty small.
You felt like you'd catch a disease, even if he would just sneeze.
Surly Shirley, not too girly, and not very nice.
You can ask her once, a question, but don't ask her twice.
Bendy Wendy in the breeze, did everything down on her knees.
The young boys she'd always please, when they would leer up in the tree's.
Kent the gent, his kindness spent, decided it was time.
To let them know just what he meant, but still did it in rhyme.
Holy Holly, quite contrite, prayed sincerely every night.
Oh, good golly, how she yearned for things to be just right.
In the interest of keeping your interest, I think I'll stop it here.
Like Billy up in the first line, I think I'll have a beer. :)
For a month Laurie mulled and brooded,
even tried to think it wasn’t her fault,
if Stan had just told her the things he did
maybe she wouldn’t have left him at all,
but such thoughts were nothing but a stall.
The fault lay entirely on her end,
she’d failed to even try to comprehend.
But finally she summoned her courage
and went down to his small apartment,
she meant to explains the things she did,
but when he answered and she caught his scent
to his lips her own instantly went,
Stan was surprised, but her lust was strong,
so like most men, he just went along.
It wasn’t until after, lying in bed,
rhat the first tears came to her eyes,
He said nothing, just gently stroke her head,
didn’t have to ask what was on her mind,
After several long minutes she cried:
“I now understand why you were hurting,
But it’s too late, I screwed up everything.”
He tried to hug her close in his arms,
but she struggled, pulled herself away,
said,”I’ve tasted of other men’s charms,
and there is nothing that I can say,
what I’ve done deserves only your hate.
there’s no way to go back to what we were then,
for what I did, I can’t be forgiven.”
Stan struggled and said,”So tonight was just you
trying to give me a pleasant ‘so long?’
I don’t buy that, because if it were true,
you wouldn’t be feeling the pain this strong,
would not want forgiveness for your wrong.
You want to still love me, but don’t know how,
unsure if you’ll love the man I am now.”
The words struck her hard, and she stammered,
he just put a soft hand to her lips.
“There is no need to get so bothered,
I think that there’s a solution to this,
I have an idea and this is it:
If some love remains, come back tomorrow,
we’ll take this by the day, and see how it goes.”
Laurie didn’t think that this plan could work,
but she found herself each night coming back,
she didn’t know how he didn’t feel hurt
at the compassion she had lacked,
but every night they’d end up in the sack.
Before long she’d left her apartment,
in fact she never left Stan’s bed again.
Wasn’t long before they called the lawyers,
said they weren’t needed anymore,
Laurie looked back on what they were
and saw glimpses of what was in store,
taking on the demons they abhorred.
Stan wasn’t the same, that much was true,
but no longer was she a cowardly youth…
We were drinking in the Eagles Nest; a cozy little pub,
one Friday evening after work completed in the scrub.
Most of us are timber workers, who get paid on Friday night,
so we’re all cashed up and thirsty in a setting that’s just right.
There were six of us who formed a shout and mixed to socialize,
and as the beers were going down, glassy turned our eyes.
Tongues were loosening up a mite and too our rationale,
and hints were being thrown about by master card sharp Karl.
Karl’s the gambler we avoid he’d bet on two flies up a wall,
but when we’ve had a skin full and Karl begs a poker call,
fifty per cent will jump right in and claim themselves a seat,
and the rest are easily convinced, for grog does hide defeat.
So with Ron and John, plus Bill and Stan, I walk to Karl’s abode.
We’re all carrying two six packs that we surely will unload,
while we shuffle, deal and raise and show, or play a game of bluff,
to find out whom at poker holds the nerves of stronger stuff.
And as the night went deeper and the stubbies emptied out,
some were holding piles of money and one was now without.
Stan had squandered all his pay and now he looked a mite unstable,
but then to top his bad night off - Stan drops dead at the table.
At first we panicked seeing Stan but knew there’s nothing we could do,
and seeing that we’re full of booze we only had a short review.
It was suggested we should show respect now Stan has passed away.
We stood up for the next three hands and thanked Stan for his pay.
And when new dawn began to break, it was time to close the game,
Karl was quick to put his hand on Stan and then he did proclaim,
“One of youse walking home my friends must notify Stan’s wife.
Who will it be?” But no hand rose and Karl felt he’s in strife.
So it came down to drawing straws that Karl held in his hand.
When I plucked me piece of straw I plucked the one I never planned.
Karl stated I must be discreet, be gentle, and not to make things worse.
With me virtue for discretion at Stanley’s door I did converse.
Ums and Ahs were flowing freely ‘til at last me courage grew,
“Your husband Stan has lost his pay now he’s frightened to face you.”
She glared with eyes that proffered hate - “Tell the mongrel to drop dead!”
So I uttered as I turned away - “I’ll go and tell Stan what you said.”
I was going to take it easy, but I’m going to write harder than ever before
I’m all about love and peace, but the world thinks we’re better with war
I’m going by my own expectations because I’ll never measure to yours
I act confident because you’d eat me alive if you knew I was ever insecure
I don’t show my heart much, I keep it in my chest, but the treasure is pure
They say I’m single minded, so how do I write double rhymes that are clever and raw?
Me to be the new Eminem was all a plan
He wrote a song about me, he just decided to call me Stan
The only difference is I’m here with a normal state of mind
Okay that was a lie, because you have to be a certain amount of crazy to create these rhymes
Tupac passed me a pen from heaven so now I’m here to take what’s mine
World on my shoulders, but I won’t allow it to break my spine
I’ll hold it up
Travel to the North Pole because my heart still isn’t cold enough
I need it cold enough so I stop missing my ex from time to time
The world shouldn’t be told this much
But I’m trying to write a new story in the oldest book
I go looking for what the normal human isn’t designed to find
Please don’t mind my mind
I’m just a little crazy, mixed with inspiration from Slim Shady
Tortured with self-loathing due to my parents putting me in foster care as a baby
With a broken heart from a girl who took advantage of my kind nature
I hope you see clearly now because you could be blind later
Got enough rhymes to fill nine papers
And complete 20 albums for your favourite artist
As soon as I get my lock on, I won’t change the target
My pen is full and I won’t apologise for the carnage
Make you take notice of what I’m writing; you won’t be able to disregard it
Michael Myers and Freddy Krueger are hiding from the poetical Jason Voorhees
I’m not a movie writer creating stories
Someone ask Cupid to have Ariana Grande waiting for me
If he has other plans, that’s fine, but it’s worth asking
But it’s probably best he doesn’t because dating bores me
I push away people because I don’t how to trust
I’ve been numb for so long, I wouldn’t feel it if I was touched
I’m working on myself, to fall in love I’m not in a rush
I’ve seen Friends turn to snakes, they didn’t realise I’m a shark so they can’t drown me
The man has become a king so you should crown me
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Especially with motivational bias
Intrinsic or decoherent formation
The access levels breach by human mass
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Is due the common bias that supports
Desire for all process automation
The physical the fitness is the sport
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Whether desires of others shall we satisfy
The mass affect on psyches with exemptions
The mechanism is probably WIFI
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Implies that humans are the chemical the mass
Because all these in Internet and politics “reactions”
TerminolOgy of the human this bias
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Are differenciated between you and wild
And while is none the business yours is wild the nature
I am also one of you if I am filed
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Between my file in organs and the me
Existed maybe be rather for the penetration
The very outdated is your C
So let's address ID of yours
They say when children are the young
They seek their own ID
Perhaps their souls and their minds
Won't really fall for category of the fashionable stan??
In search for their Ids
In time of war prepare for peace
In time of peace prepare for war
What are you really for?
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Are fading as your prioritization are disproved
In seeking many ways for the monetization
Your whole existence is a giant unwanted spoof
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Between radar of military and the airplane
You reckon, buddy mine of the negation
That this particular the generalization
Would render system of your build as sane?
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Of weird human groups who's eager to assist
Resistance is a trait of this negation
My human right is kinda to resist
The mechanism of seeking the connection
Draws value out of you as you degrade
The round is degree of the 360
How is this calvin would convert to centigrade?
The mechanism of seeking the connection
The mechanism of seeking the connection
The mechanism of seeking the connection
The mechanism of seeking the connection
*organs are term in russian lingo for intelligence services, such as NSA in US, maybe because short for organization
During the time before television came to our home, My dad sat there in his car on many a dark Southern night. And I was somewhere close by, enjoying a wonderful
game of Major League Baseball on the radio.
O, there were several teams in the majors like The Pirates,
The White Socks and The Red Socks were popular
teams. But in my town in Northern Mississippi, baseball was all about the Cardinals, the Dodgers, and the Yankees.
There were many sights and sounds of baseball beaming from radios and television sets. I must say that I mean no disrespect to other good and decent sportscasters,
but Harry Carry and Pee Wee Reese made us feel like we
were there in the stands.
My dad had lots of friends, but two were rivals in the game.
There was his friend, the Yankee man name Mr. Baines;
And then, Mr. Mon, his other friend, was a Dodger fan.
But my dad’s heart was in St. Louis with Stan the Man.
In the memory of my mind, I can hear those games now on the radio.
Those nights were dark and hot, but the baseball captured and calmed me.
Reading newspapers and enjoying a baseball game on the radio were two
things my dad and I shared together. But also, later on, we obtained a television. With the snapshots tucked away in the frames of my mind, after 50-plus years, I can still see the Baseball Game of the Week.
I'm rather certain that neither my dad nor his two friends ever graced the stadiums of their teams. I'm proud to say that it was through them that I developed a deep love for the game. So, in a way, when I saw two games at Wrigley Field in Chicago, they were there also; or when I enjoyed two games of the Giants at Candlestick Park in San Francisco, they sat right next to me.
They say that baseball is America’s great past time experience;
but for me, baseball was always about ‘now and then’, ‘today, and
‘tomorrow’ too. It was about a little country boy fantasizing
and dreaming today about what could be tomorrow.
Written 042010; Entry122422PS Contest, Matt Caliri, Poetry in Motion
The National Pastime, Phillip Garcia
also: (Screwed XV11 Contest, Rod Carmack; 10th Pl)
There was an old cowboy named Claude LaFeet,
the scourge of the western plain.
A Frenchman by birth and a man of some girth,
he limped and carried a cane.
He had been to the 'Pen,' had put in his time,
was now ready to settle the score.
To hunt down a Man, a coward named Stan,
this time it would be war.
But Claude was flat broke, he needed a stake
and was in a great deal of pain.
He had sold his boots and needed more loot,
he'd have to rob a train.
He went to a bar where the liquor flowed cheap,
'Fellas, I'm in a bind.'
Claude was hoping for more but he got only four,
they were the worst men he could find.
They set their trap for the 'Tombstone Special.'
he was told it carried a vault.
They began the attack by blocking the track,
the train came to a screeching halt.
They found the safe and blew open the door,
and there in the morning light.
He had been told... there might be gold,
it looks like they were right.
They divided their booty, he thanked them all,
they asked what were his plans?
'To scour the plains hopefully not in vain
for a coward by the name of Stan.'
One slowly piped up,' I know that man,
he lives in a nearby town.
He's dating a girl by the name of Pearl
with hair colored chestnut brown.'
Claude hopped on his horse and found the place
but remembered years ago.
When in a street one night they intended to fight
but Stan had failed to show.
Tired of waiting, Claude returned to the bar
and was walking through the door.
He heard a loud crack, he had been shot in the back,
he lay bleeding on the floor.
Years had passed with the bullet still there,
he was thinking Stan might flee.
When on the walk he heard Stan talk,
'I hear you're looking for me.'
They went for their guns in a blinding flash,
it had all come down to this.
But Claude was beguiled when he saw Stan smile,
the coward hadn't missed.
An old cowboy dies remembered by none,
a man extremely flawed.
But it was his gain now no longer in pain,
he would answer to his God.
Legends die and stories are told
of men who can't be beat.
How that hero Stan... shot his Man
...the coward Claude Lafeet.
> I do not know if this qualifies as poetry. I take my ideas from the news, or what happens in life around me. I hope you don't mind. My good news is I do not have cancer now, and it's only just beginning to sink in. I wonder why I survived and not my younger sister. I would have given my life for her. Sadly He does not do deals either. does He?
I made a deal with Satan.
It's time to sleep.
It's time to sleep, to rest my head.
Upright on my frame adjusted bed.
Head held up, feet protected too.
Bet you wonder what I do?
Just pumping up my pressure mattress now.
Gives me back relief, somehow.
Air goes in air comes out.
Like that referendum, that's about.
Tonight I think, I must asleep. My cancer it has gone.
Hospital did peep. Inside of me with a CT scan.
They said, I'm clean, yes Stan the man.
No cancer rests inside of me. None of it could they see.
I guess now I am fit and well. Satan will call me now to hell.
You see, I made him a deal. Was not hard to do.
If he sent all innocents to heaven. I'd pay with my life, it's true.
Then when I'm lodging, deep up there. As hell is not here anywhere!
I'll sort hell out, that's what I'd do. Be soon, like heaven. I'm telling you.
No terrorists will reside there. I'll work that out, I don't care.
I'll get them to clean the furnace there.
Shut them all in no doubt. Oh no, I won't let them out.
I'll rake their ashes finally out. Scatter them, I will.
Not on land,will they fall. But sink in the oceans deep, they will all.
Then, heaven and hell will be okay. Oh! Did I forget to say.
The other pact I made with Satan was, for me to come back to earth!
Fighting fit, Armour on, ready to send all terrorists, right where they belong.
I've made a deal with Satan, and soon all terrorists will be gone.
Of course I would like to go to heaven when He calls But I wonder if I could really tolerate that floral dance of Sir Terry's for eternity. I have not really made a pact with the devil, honest, I would not know how. And it would take a far cleverer person than me to pull the wool over Satan's eyes. After all he is supposed to know everybody's bad points, isn't he? Have a nice day everyone. I did and as i said, the reality is just sinking in. (The mad author)<
" SuperFine" Borrow Quarrious made his debut in a bout against his former tag team partner "Honey Mambo" Yurts Kussinov. The bout ended when there former manager Caul Fennish interfered using a folding chair to pummel both men. Caul Fennish is number one contender for $@$$$$$@!---$$$$@$$@ championship. ( Because of "Contractual Science") we can't speak the $@$$$$$@---$$$$@$$@ champions name, we can't recognize the title or show the match or title without distortion. The Collusion Illusion is a big deal!
Rambles Bassoonist wrested to a draw agains "Cattle"Stan Murphy, leaving a crowd at awe, but both men satisfied the onlookers when the
Promoters allowed the match to continue giving both men 10:00 minutes to settle the score. at 2:13 the member of " The Electric Audience" Rambles Bassoonist the victory via a "broken arrow" submission manuver. The former Game Pro Greco-Roman champion, out wrested his opponent in a crowd pleasing fashion.
Maybe it was the attire, or maybe these men just know where they stand. We do nd I t they had opposing views, and both went to a micro phone to air there point s of view, let's say members of the promotion saw something in letting these men go at it. No time to change the promoter said come as you are and two men clashed in an opportunity to showcase there talents. Drama "the Mingler" verses "Cash Money" Tenseultown Mannex Reeler went at it for a chance to queit the other. Ten mins nutes in a "Wicked-Wicked" back dropped found Mannex victorious.
Doctor Wolfgang Sinster and his Ganglioness Dax Savage ( "Crumbling Carl Savages sister) rocked the auditorium. A one-sided crowd saw
Guam's, Gaffa " Main Man" Chovey-Claud meet the conclusion of the best of seven series. The score was 3- Gaffa, to 3 Wolfgang Sinster. At 25:54 Sinster used a fysterfall fistdrop, into a spinning toehold for the victory, he now is number one contender to Talus Championship Gold. He will meet the winner of his opposition, either "Sumthang Special" Sammy Gordillo who is up 3-2 verses "Mumbles" Mantel Darbow. The winner goes head to head with " the guy from the other side" to become 2020 Talus Champion, this is the only championship which is relenquished so the title holder can claim there number one World title bout, and it's rubber match.
My parents were too busy drinking to help me to grow
I was moved around In foster care without anyone by the side of me
As a little boy I prayed my dad would finally start to inspire me
But I knew it wouldn't happen so I spent my time looking for a hero
The only way to heal a scar is to understand where you bleed from
So I was looking for a male role model, because I think every little boy needs one
It started off with The Undertaker, Kane and Stone Cold, I was sure I'd grow up to fight them
At age 7 I was obsessed with wrestling and wanted to be just like them
At 8 I heard Eminem for the first time and became instantly obsessed
He gave me a voice when I wasn't able to express
My walls covered in posters of him, you'd think I was Stan
Social workers said he was a bad role model, to me he was the greatest man
At 9 I started to listen to Ice Cube and instantly fell in love
It made me study Compton, and learn all about crips and bloods
I wasn't a wannabe gangsta just wanted to learn about what I was hearing
Hip-Hop became my family and lyrics became my parents
At 10 I brought my first Nas and Tupac albums and they never stopped playing
I loved their knowledge and the messages they were portraying
I was too young to understand it all, but some of it I got
Looked at as weird because I was a white kid obsessed with Hip-Hop
At 11 I was obsessed with 50 Cent and wanted to be a member in G-Unit
I thought they'd accept me and my struggle when I told them I'd been through it
Isn't it funny how a complete stranger can have such an impact on you?
Some will understand this poem, while others will find it laughable
When Cristiano Ronaldo signed for Man Utd he was all I would talk about
I'd wear the same boots as him when I was playing football
Have the same haircut and wear similar outfits when I went out
All of these people made me feel a bit better when my parents didn't call
People may not understand this poem and may consider it weird
And ask "How can you care so much about someone who isn't there?"
They don't know me, But I want to thank all of them for their help
I spent my childhood looking for a hero, but it turns out I was looking for myself