Long Stoners Poems
Long Stoners Poems. Below are the most popular long Stoners by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stoners poems by poem length and keyword.
Killers will kill
stoners will slide on the high
hookers will hook
trapping coins between sticky thighs-
Preachers will preach
to husbands and wives
then swallow the piss
of their own muddy lies-
The rapist will rape
the covenant will give
at times it's hard to make out
which is the lamb and which is the pig-
Gods will guide and judge from afar
presidents will pickle men
then place them in free mason jars-
The idiot swallows his own ramblings
the lush roots for bottles of peace
despite everything-time keeps sprinting
whether you sip the blood of Christ.
or swig down a ninety-proof drink.
Tis the season,
for tan lines,
Enjoying the day,
while the sun shines.
People of every,
color and size,
So many beautiful women,
it's hard to believe your eyes.
Gorgeous women showing off,
strutting their stuff.
Smiling, tan bodies,
you just can't get enough.
More beauty,
than your eyes can behold,
Skin more golden,
than the color of gold.
Folks are drinking, chilling,
grilling, ready to feast,
The rich the poor,
the homeless and a priest.
Tall, short,
skinny or chunky,
We have it all;
even a guy and his monkey.
Soda, beer, cannabis,
pills and alcohol,
Drinkers, stoners, pushers,
buyers, come one come all.
It's about having,
a good time and a little fun,
Tis the season of,
Summer and CALIFORNIA SUN………
TURBO1904 JULY,2020
As Jesus once wrote in the dirt
With wisdom a silent covert
He challenged the crowd
Not speaking aloud
As Mercy soaked a land that thirsts
Did He write of the Law or a plea
Or note what the stoners would see?
With grace He forgave
And lives that He’d save
Revealed what true justice should be
The ignorant sin and the bold
By Jesus were greatly retold
To turn from the wrong
Repent and belong
To a Love that is greater than gold
Did Jesus write the Law of Moses
As the Book of Numbers discloses
Echoes of the stoning
For Stephen no postponing
On the grave lain stone roses
In this free-floating pericope
The question has to be
Where is the john
The adulteress had known?
A name overtly written to see?
Maybe one by one
That's why they flee from The Son
Slumping off guiltily
Their demeanor is easy to see
Their sin the smoking gun
No books He did write
With water He didn't baptize
We are His hands and feet
We are His voice when we preach
To the masses that ostracize
I had a separate social life where stoners didn’t exist
it was when I came alive so many ladies kissed
happy days fulfilling life that all the stoners missed
people come and go with time but those stoners persist
They never learned to socialise without an angry mist
it went from pulling girls all night to waving around fists
from mature company to childishness you babysit
learning company you keep is the most important bit
I was carefree and confident without a single worry
charming girls with compliments no shortage in no hurry
but with stoners I couldn’t be my natural self and happy
turning me self conscious under pressure and quite lousy
When we went out no one would pull and they stayed in a crowd
which made the night uncomfortable the other groups spread out
giving freedom to meet girls but stoners stand surround
which I thought was immature invading space and sound
This is what those stoners saw an awkward guy who couldn’t pull
while other groups would see me cool attracting many girls and more
and stoners love it when you fail they don’t exactly treat you well
they get one girl who never leaves and you’re the one left lonely
with a stoner memory that wasn’t there and didn’t see
the best nights when I felt free to confidently act as me
that separate life that I once had drifting into history
stoners start to tell people I’m not successful socially
It’s funny really nobody hears me stoners say I lie so weirdly
speaking of the past I had people laugh telling me don’t be daft
lying of a life that they do not believe I ever had
of all the groups of friends I’ve known the worst became the last!
Heard a song in the car today
'Bout girls that cheer and boys that play
They were their town's kings and queens
And everyone that knows them dreams
About those good ol' kids of fall
To me that don't seem right at all
I'm sure those folks are nice enough
But for most that just 'aint how it was
So how 'bout someone sings
A song for us
Maybe you were new to town
Felt lonely and got real down
Thought you couldn't be yourself
Was a bully to somebody else
Maybe you were pushed around
At home, at school, up and down
So you ran with a rebel crowd
That wore their misfit badges proud
Exchange students and mathletes
Stoners and band geeks
A different look, a different type
You do you, you'll do alright
So kids of summer, kids of fall
Queens and kings of the school hall
Won’t you add your voices to the chorus
We'll sing this song for all of us
June 28, 2018
Of course I drew a stick person
I was a stick person with a mere bush and spots
stick-to-it-ive-ness
ants crawling on sticks for monkeys
eeh-ahh-eeh-eeh-ahh
stick to your guns
this is a stick up
not stuck up
stick your stomach in
stick your butt out
stick to the facts
these are the facts
stick with me
and i will stick with you
stickers of hearts and unicorns
and stick those lighters up
higher stick them up
now, stonewall
and stone to death
stepping stones
stone cold look
stoney point
stoners
stone cold drunk
on pebble stones
heart of stone
wearing stonewashed leather jeans
sticky buns make for
sticky fingers
chakra stones
sweat lodge stones
sticks and stones may break my bones
but these are just my bones
and for the highly sensitive words can
surely hurt more
used to live in the sticks
with all the hicks
standing stonesin parrallel by Lorenna
mckennit
Let he without sin throw the first stone
rolling stones concert in the
90's
Ye-hoo!
women used to be stoned to death for adultry
stone temple pilots-core
stone sour come whatever may
an iowa band
Rosalena means stone
match sticks and birthstones
her thoughts always stick together
I/She is coherent!
Walk with me
along the pale green shadows that fall
on the thin and winding pathways of the wood
where all is quiet and full of growth
wet with the drops of midnight rain.
Breathe in softly,
the heavy laden air
thick and burdened by the drops.
Keep watch at every step
as large and small puddles form
that lay stationary for a moment
then flow downhill to the ponds
where the river runs cascading on the stoners.
Stop a moment
hold your place
take in the view.
Listen to the sounds
birdsong as it fades in and out the trees
wind rustling branch and leaves
where deer step and pause at their surroundings
and squirrel and chipmunk chatter in chase.
Catch the sun
slipping thru the canopy
with light rays resting in the shade.
Smell the scent wafting in the wood
where pine and honeysuckle burst on the air
and every rain drop blushes in innocent clarity
wafting across the damp wet fallen leaves
left from autumn's winter.
Walk with me
escape the hurried pace of the outer world
and submit to the marvels of nature's blessings.
A shadow, nay, sullen thunderhead
inducing a deluge of emotions
moved across thousands of darkened souls
Freaks, stoners
shy, smart
geeks and loners
outcasts with dreams and compassion in their heart
Strangers like me
To us, you were a friend
we live vicariously through words we couldn't write
thoughts that help us defend
against wolves attacking for spite
we battle predators until the end
paper mache hearts now confettied and contrite
When in need of a voice to understand
you are the poet on which we lean
like a crutch of a crippled, broken man
assisting our stride and making us gleam
Mean pride, through our veins, does pulse
your gift - a gold ingot - exclusively ours
now smelted - our throats convulse
as if poisoned by many whiskey sours
Cancer soiled your beautiful brain
muddied thoughts and took your life
washing future elegance down the drain
freaks are shredded with strife
like targets at a firing range
Suddenly gone leaving the lives bereft
upon which you left your mark
warrior, graciously, exit...stage left
a celestial journey calls to you embark
Created the soundtrack for our misfit lives
making memories connected to your art
our hope that your music survives
thousands of years touching many a heart
A collective "Thank you Neil"
us castaways won't soon forget
how your lyrics and talent made us feel
ghost ride to your garden in the sunset
Written January 17, 2015
I was born to the hunter
I was raised with the sheep
I was brought in with the soldiers
I was told not to fall asleep
I was told not to wonder
What lies on the otherside
Once I was a loner
Loitered around with the stoners
Who sought only to dream
But for the days when their dreams came true
Hand in hand with you
And everyone else who holds these ideals true
But as for now
We lie beneath the boulders
All the rubble that molds us
To stand shoulder to shoulder
With all those who came before words
That made us realize
That we're only a child
In the eyes of time
In reality
We can only hope
To become a spec of dust
In the vacuum of history
When you’re feeling bored and blue, ‘cause there’s nothing fun to do,
Just dip in your bubble wand, and blow a bubble big and round.
There’s no fun that can compare, to blowing bubbles in the air.
See how big your bubble grows, before it pops right on your nose.
Blowing bubbles is so fun, inside or out in the sun.
Big kids, small kids, we don’t care. Just blow bubbles in the air.
Puff, puff, puff. Chase some bubbles. Puff... Pop your troubles.
Puff... Make some doubles. Puff... Blow more bubbles.
Of all the things that are so fun, blowing bubbles is number one!
Blowing bubbles can’t go wrong, so come on parents sing along.
All these bubbles, we should share, so let’s blow bubbles everywhere!
Puff, puff, puff. Chase some bubbles. Puff... Pop your troubles.
Puff... Make some doubles. Puff... Blow more bubbles.
Dip back in your bubble wand, and blow more bubbles all around.
You’ll be happy as can be, blowing bubbles just like me.
Everybody everywhere, keep blowing bubbles in the air.
Puff, puff, puff. Chase some bubbles. Puff... Pop your troubles.
Puff... Make some doubles. Puff... Blow more bubbles.
Sorry, ‘stoners’, you are wrong. This is not about your bong.
Chasing bubbles and running free is healthier than THC!
Everybody everywhere, keep blowing bubbles in the air.
Puff, puff, puff. Chase some bubbles. Puff... Pop your troubles.
Puff... Make some doubles. Puff... Blow more bubbles.