Long Swinger Poems
Long Swinger Poems. Below are the most popular long Swinger by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Swinger poems by poem length and keyword.
I keep hearin your concerned about my happiness.
but all that thought you're given me is conscience I guess.
If I were walking in your shoes I wouldn't worry none
While you and your friends are worrying about me I'm havin lots of fun
counting flowers on the wall,
that don't bother me at all.
Playing solitaire till dawn
with a deck of 51.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.
Now don't tell me, I've nothing to do.
Last night I dressed in tails pretending I was on the town.
As long as I can dream it's hard to slow this swinger down.
So please don't give a thought to me, I'm really doin fine
You can always find me here, I'm havin quite a time
counting flowers on the wall,
that don't bother me at all.
Playing solitaire till dawn
with a deck of 51.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.
Now don't tell me, I've nothing to do.
It's good to see you, I must go. I know I look a fright,
and anyway my eyes are not accustomed to this light.
and my shoes are not accustomed to this hard concrete
I must go now back to my room and make my day complete
counting flowers on the wall,
that don't bother me at all.
Playing solitaire till dawn
with a deck of 51.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.
Now don't tell me, I've nothing to do.
No don't tell me, I've nothing to do.
*
Not my write
but most certainly my life.
*
I be foolin' 'round the playground;
Had my teddy by my side.
I be foolin' 'round the playground,
When she took me for a ride.
Thought I'd always be a swinger;
Now I'm goin' down the slide.
Gonna rock and roll this morning;
Rattle off to shaky town.
Gonna rock and roll this morning;
Teeter-totter, up and down.
When it's time to change my diaper,
Gonna dance this mess around.
Mama calls me Pretty Baby;
Don't know where she's comin' from.
Mama calls me Pretty Baby,
But I'm playin' deaf and dumb.
Makes me wanna hit the bottle
‘steada suckin' on my thumb.
Now I’m feelin' kinda thirsty.
I be lookin’ at her chest.
Now I’m feelin’ kinda thirsty.
I be placin’ my request
With a question to consider;
Which ole nipple tastes the best?
Gonna hear a bedtime story
'bout a reindeer on the roof.
Gonna hear a bedtime story
'bout a horsey's painted hoof
And my very special favorite,
Riding Hood Meets Howlin' Woof.
Autumn
She shakes her auburn hair
And Summer's loss is Winter's gain
The heartbreak moment
Here again.
A beauty tempting to the eyes
Her backdrop; painted vivid, scarlet skies
She breezes in like dancing Ginger
On reddened carpet, the silent seasonal swinger.
Whispering her intention to all who will listen
On slippery ground her garments glisten.
The naked tree exposed and bare
Stands shameless in the streetlight's stare.
And all the voices in the town
Becry denuded Summer's gown.
The green is lost. The seamless lushness
Replaced by Wintery shapeless toughness.
And yet, with all the withered fronds,
The fallen desires of that which belongs,
A hidden motivation starts
To teach our fickle, sun-lust hearts..
That while we long for sunlight's haze,
And mourn the loss of Summer's gaze,
We find that deep within our sorrow
A golden promise of tomorrow.
Seems I’ve reminisced
The feel
Of a home cooked meal
Ducking the pleasures
Of a sainted veil
A clause in the end
From which finer things appeal
Black jack matches not
To a fisher mans luck
On an antique reel
But on the real
The expectations in this life
Remain a comfort
That refuses to chill
Let your thoughts rest
On an old lads chest
Considering the circumstances
If we make it
We can all attest
And adore this political mess
If not then as victims of stress
Unblessed in this planet
Of slanted chess
We’ll confess
Another night
Another days passes
Do you find it lovely
How nothing ever last
But many men have cured
Their fascination
Of becoming non minute men
Flawed by incarceration
Deep within the dungeons
Of a softer conscience
In irregular form
A veteran lies victim
Of defeated white blood cells
Unresponsive
A child with no home
And swollen tonsils
The dark settles
Flashbacks meddle
Trouble around the corner
As a lunch line unveils
Never was a fighter
Just a swinger
As I found myself catapulted against
The cafeteria wall
The integrity
My sucker punch instilled
Broken glass jaws
Over a 4th grade meal
Or mainly just an individual
Twice the size of me
With an inability to feel
I sat still
As the principal sought
A stern punishment
Not as astonished with
The other kids compliments
For my stomach ache
From a lack of warm condiments
Moral of the story is
I was fighting then
I’m still fighting now
Obstacles tend to ware me down
The inexperience of my peers
Seem to no longer enlighten me now
Have to find new ways to learn
Or disappear into the unclear
Fatigued as a writer
Tend to want to touch on subjects
Closer to lighter
Symptoms of a September baby
A Virgo born of a harlot
With nine children unknown
A none buffalo soldier
A phantom on a Harley
The ghost of Robert Marley
An astronaut in my younger years
Screaming for Apollo thirteen
As the thunder neared
Off my coarse of inspiration
I veered
Probably not my first battleground with this nasty bug
Still haven't tested positive after many attempts
But I know I have it now
False negatives or perhaps it's just my luck
I'm still kicking my way thru it, and I trust that none of you
Want to take this cross from me
But feel free
Grandma's got it too, that's my mom
Always taking care of us all no matter what the cost
Bless her soul
Hope all those vain vaccinations were worth it
So far so good . . . still here in the hood
No 911 calls yet but she says keep it on hold
This aint no ordinary cold
It reaches deep down and taints the soul
I feel for all the dead before me
Now is my chance to dance with this devil
Giving me night sweats and a backwards fever
I feel soooo cold like I could die
Really makes me feel that mortal mold
With an electric cord protruding from the back of my skull
Don't unplug me yet
I still have some more poems to write
Is tonight the night
I aint afraid
Jesus has my back
My faith is intact
He says Our Father forgives me when it's not
So, I say a few Our Fathers and struggle through some Hail Marys
(It's been a while since I've said those. Threw out my Rosary years ago)
I've walked thru so many Church doors that you'd think me a swinger
But I'm a deadringer for what is real
Ringing the dinner bell Ding Ding Ding Ding Dong!
What's wrong with me Lord, why'd you make me this way?
Extra toes and thumbs, kinda seems dumb
I think I would have been better off with an extra brain
Perhaps then I'da been a bit more sane
Less of a pain
More like everyone else like anyone else would care
I dare to overthrow tyranny and jerks
With a glare of my obvious godlike good looks.
I must get that from you, my Lord
Thanks for being there for me thru all these years
Putting up with all my failures and doubts and bad poetry
And to anyone else reading this malarky
Thanks for sharing!
I think I'm going to go now
And visit the porcelain thrown
For a while.
In de dark of night, shadows play on de wall,
Your skin, soft like satin, mi hear you call.
Eyes like fire, burning deep, hypnotic flame,
Mi soul quake, whisper your name.
But oh, why mi heart beat so wild and free,
When I imagine another tasting you, not me?
Mi man, mi king, mi forbidden bliss,
Why would I share dis heaven's kiss?
It eh jealousy dat choke mi breath,
But de sweet surrender, close to death.
De tingle, de ache, de endless desire,
Fi watch him rise, consumed by fire.
Let anudda hand feel di silk of his skin,
Let anudda mouth taste what lies within.
Is not betrayal, no shame, no scorn,
Is fi him joy mi heart was born.
Di way him lips part, di sound of his sigh,
When pleasure grip him, mi feel mi fly.
Not every treasure meant fi keep alone,
Sometimes, to share is to sit on a throne.
De dark is sweet, it wraps us tight,
Twisting hearts, blurring right from night.
I want fi see him in bliss so true,
Even if it means di world go blue.
So mi say, take him, drink him deep,
Make him forget till his soul can't sleep.
And when he return, dis fire still burns,
Cause mi heart eh break; it only yearns.
For lust is a dance, a wicked play,
And love a river dat twist and sway.
Mi man, mi king, mi secret treasure,
Why? Because it’s all about his pleasure.
"Poetry Souper Heroes: The Sequel"
by: Eric L. Boddie
As we last saw, Anita Sharma was coming in
What's that Melody Thomas, I had to ask my friend
It's called Falling Raindrops, Kim Patrice Nunez is the singer
By German composer Kim van Breda, rumor has it she's a swinger
She lives on Lin Lane in the house where there is a Mystic Rose
Tom was a country boy, but Laura? Urbaniak I suppose
Becca Teagan walked by as we heard the sound of a gun
She then fell to the ground, oh my, what has Cherl Dunn
Soon after, officers Ian Guyler and Connie Marcum Wong pull up as the scene diminishes
All we could tell them was these are simply the Remnants Of Some Silly Experiences
She lost her job as a teacher because she told the kids, on every Paige, Reed for yourself
But when the principal fired her, who would have thought she would have taken her last breath
This was all too disturbing, Andrea Dietrich said let's go to the dance
But when we got inside all it said was Charmaine Chircop vs Casarah Nance
I said where is the dance, she said welcome to the mud fight
There's a family tag team handicap main event, Terry and Chante Reeves vs Sophiya Kamil tonight
I said will this degradation of women ever cease
And that's when Robert Stoner Jr. told Stella, "Fullard is slang for obese"
That's when Kelly Deschler came in, armed to the t, and said the violence is about to increase....
to be continued....
My mind a thick fog, a thick fog so deep,
it threatens to submerge my thoughts.
I know not why, or how, or even who,
for the fog makes me it's puppet.
It stutters and now I.
It forgets and so do I.
Who are you beside me, i really mean no harm.
It's so very lonely, in my arbid mind.
My hands no longer dainty,
but thick clumsy stubs,
that struggle with the buttons on my shirt,
oh and my cardigan,
and the laces of my shoes.
You shouldn't help, but I know you will.
I feel so confined,
in this body of mine.
My back is hunched, I'm five foot three,
but shuffle along at four foot nine.
A zimmer trawling along in front,
my eyes glaring at my two left feet,
that once could rumba or Charleston,
a swinger of the early days.
It's not so kind to be so bent,
when one wishes to look upto the sky.
My memories wither, as embers of a dying fire.
I wish the fuel of medicine could have,
burnt brightly for a few more years.
I'm told I will soon be a great grandmother,
but if you ask, I don't know who to.
Maybe Samantha or Sharon or Sylvia or Ann?
For peets sake my memories scatter,
Like a baby, I pitter patter.
I wish for the sunlight on my nose,
the fresh ocean water on my toes.
I long to see the shooting stars,
relax in the Icelandic spas.
But most of all I want to smuggle,
with my loved ones, on a winter's eve.
Tell them sweet stories, sing and dance,
hear their laughter and not their cries.
For though living, it is my bitter sweet goodbye.
You cheated in our relationship
You said one thing, and it was actually for another
Supposed to be number one
Turned out into no number at all
I was put on pause
You were the cause
Always stepping out
Here and there all about
Mr. Swinger and Ms. Slinger
Decided to investigate
Catch you in the act
Wasted no time
I found your address book
It wasn’t hard taking a look
Went on the mission quest
Spotted you sitting at the bar with some other women
Drinking to your heart’s content
Time was my pursuit
You acted surprised
You didn’t realize, but a camera pointed and now there is proof you cheated
Every excuse you tried
Nothing you said made any sense
You were busted on the spot
Now who is locked out now
Your female split and left swiftly
Never to return
When will you learn?
Now have a new attitude
As for you, now a conclude
Found someone else who loves me for me
He knows how to soothe
His dancing is ever smooth
A cheater locked out and loss
I was the forbidden force
Alone in your mess
So long sucker, you didn’t do your best
I could care less.
Just In Headliners:
A sinister come-back
Falsity applies, a genuine bible hack
In a Dracon stratosphere, a reincarnate
Harsh is a nice word, worst of the worst
Anticipating being heard, spitting at the herd
You don’t understand how good you’re at it
What awaits us lonely hobbit
Acute awareness behind lips whistle
Missiles of angst, killer of bloody killer’s
Boasting and blasting warns of crucifixion
Shaking a finger, shaming on us
And nothing for the souls, they’ve had it
The riff raff became a bore, as he is more
Swinger raising quite a few eyebrows
Mad cow, bird brain, fluish mind bestows
Astral parasites, bloody vampire bites
Make space stagnant, a dangerous empire
Hate beast the top crow eats crow
Painfully punitive now disappear
An emperor naked to the world
Take my eyes for they see the truth
I see the people who live in fear, gone by
Mutilator of words they are lost in the gallows
Take my ears they tire of lies hard to swallow
Stringent ideas, antis’—shït show theatre
Clique-Nik's tough trumpeter’s end is closer
Brutalist codefest a poser nauseates
Hope feels buried in alabaster quick sands
Tears shall drip for years in western pools
Take my breath for I can’t live with fascist fools
In tyrannical hell where opaque deeds dwell
It's uncertainty smells of rotting flesh
Not a time for the timid of heart
Not a time for summer soldiers
nor quasi part-time patriots
Perhaps the end of time
or just another existential design
in a warped world