Long Sultans Poems
Long Sultans Poems. Below are the most popular long Sultans by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sultans poems by poem length and keyword.
From way down in "Bama"
Stirring echoes of Big Mama
A thunderous storm that brewed from the Deep South
Each word could be felt when it left her mouth
With her immense presence, showmanship, and confidence
She would capture the hearts and minds of her audience
She stood tall, shoulder to shoulder amongst the sultans of Blues
She didn't have to put on airs 'cause she stood comfortably in her shoes
A woman, a beautiful black woman oozing with creativity and soul
In her kitchen, she took lemons and made pitcher after pitcher of sweet lemonade that she always served cold
Oh, Big Mama you brought that good medicine to the soul when you sang
You bellowed melodies that reached up and tugged on heartstrangs
Oh, Big Mama I see ya' cookin' with your horn, too
Blowin', just blowin' so beautifully as only a few can do
You were so good that some felt a need to copy you and steal your money
Shameful shadowy expressions of a "Hound Dog" depraved music industry
Never to be replicated or duplicated
One of one, you were, but still, you're often imitated
From way down in "Bama"
Stirring echoes of Big Mama
With a voice ornamented in ogled tension
you ask me,
like vulnerable flesh queries warm obsession,
Do you mean to love me this way...
on your mouth, a hold of hope I see
to you I say...
Does the sun choose to flare into sapphire atmosphere,
Does the moon decide who's eyes to enchant,
Does a rose ponder its tempt,
Does a man dare his heart relent,
Does a woman wonder whence came her allure and dare,
A heatwave of heartache's swelter swells over your soul
as the outcry of orgulous omens try to defy our survival,
blood drops fall lonesomely from the old body of a lark
a steeple bell broken by the thunder of sorrow in the dark,
gold found burning into rivulets reaching into graveyard rock,
you begin to weep
because the weight of worry waylays your wishes for our eternity,
I surround you with a love shield that shames the arrows of agony
kissing you softly deep,
then I tell you that fate is not our enemy,
don't you understand my Lady...
Sultans cannot buy or sell the feelings we share,
Emperors unable to enforce the silence of our hearts,
rivals are but ridiculous in attempt to dowse our flame,
Time be trite in march against the magic in our care,
the poetry of our purpose will not be censored by cynical marks,
emotions erratic in wrath will not wrest the roots from which our passion came -
J.A.B.
"Roll on tonight my mates are coming round
For a few cold beers and some rocking sounds
Time is drawing near, as I hear a knock at the door
Blimey! at this time of the night, a vacuum salesmen stands before"
"Hey pal make it quick, I have a party to host
Tell me your pitch, now disappear your a ghost
The best place for them is in the lunar craters
Sucking on Listerine soaked tissues, singing, "see you later alligator"
"Another knock on the door, and I'm pleasantly surprised
All my intended buddies on my doorstep, the parties arrived
For a night of drifting, ending with earache and pain
Entering wormholes of insomnia, no pain no gain"
"Our party is going to be like a cool Rock 'n' Roll gig
Beers flowing a plenty, this ain't no highland jig
We start with Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention
Best friends and myself, our schooldays convention"
"This is no wine and dine as Dire Straits play
The "Sultans of Swing" sounds excellent any day
Next we play Deep Purple, listening to Jon Lord's Hammond sounds
Music is our medicine in six speaker surround"
"In between sounds to the kitchen we head
Tid-bits and more beers to keep our gig well fed
We sample some Grunge Metal listening to Nuclear Waste
But once again Classic Rocks rules, as Grunge is not our taste"
"For the next couple of ours it's like The Monsters of Rock
AC/DC and UFO, the Rock never stops
We air guitar to "Whole Lotta Rosie"
Wearing spandex boxer shorts, one of us drumming like Cozy"
"We all awake in the morning, some with sore heads
But it was never a night that we were ever going to dread
It was a bunch of guys who met whilst at school
Who released their friendly energy, like fools but really cool"
"Tom, I never knew you, but I thank Catie for this
Writing this poem, just fills me with bliss
I know you will be busy, but if you happen to look down
Give our convention a shout, join our Rock n Roll clowns"
My tribute to Mr Tom Bell, so many people spoke about him.
Reading what they said, I only wish I knew him.
Of
splendid
thrones of
gold
Of
treasures
manifold
Of Sultans
and Shahs
Of Emirs
and Rajahs
Of
jewelled
caskets
or lavish
banquets
Of
sparkling
crowns
and
flowing
gowns
Of kings
and queens
Rulers and
emperors
Of their
subservient
stewards
and
obedient
butlers
Or the
servile
knaves
and
stalwart
squires
Of the
peons and
minions
pages and
pavilions
Of castles
and palaces
of
abounding
gold and
silver
in
ostentatious
regal
splendour
Ah the
fanning
maids in
waiting
Yet to me
one thing
worth
more
noticing
The poet
minstrels
who came
to sing
from afar
for the
queen and
king
For I'd
rather be a
poet for
kings
so to my
tunes
swayed
the
kingdom
than I be
the king
of mere
subjects
and be filled with regal
boredom!
So I could join ranks of
troubadours
and sing for the king
some folklores
For words are the heart of imagination
Inviting to poetic fascination.
(form Troubadour) Ars poetica