Long Threw Poems
Long Threw Poems. Below are the most popular long Threw by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Threw poems by poem length and keyword.
The Halloween Party was in full swing
Witches, wizards and an alien thing
with tentacles and one huge eye
Flourishing a laser gun shouting "Die".
Alison and her friends Ada and Jo
Were all dressed as feline kittens "meow"
Carl and Simon had laced the fruit punch bowl
As the evening drew on it took it's tole.
Drunkenly a bet was stupidly placed
Who of them would last and not be outpaced
A nightly vigil at Haunted Creek
Where rode a phantom horseman, there to seek.
Everyone there all knew the awful tale
Making in unison a quick inhale
It was long ago in 1702
A mounted stallion there cast a shoe
The rider's name was Squire Abraham Knight
Was set upon and put up a good fight
He was then butchered for a gold doubloon
Was then thrown in the creek and found at noon
Unexplained sightings, that then disappear
have been recorded, it is very unclear
Warnings come from parents to their own child
No-one goes there, it is left to grow wild
With youthful bravado they all met there
Torches flashed around, as the trees stood bare
Alison and her friends huddled together
Shivering in the inclement weather
Bart and his brother camped down for the night
on a hillock, keeping the creek in sight
Joining them was the terror gang of four
Troublemakers, who all acted hardcore.
Two hours later it started to snow
Huge flakes falling and wind began to blow
"I've had enough of this" said Alison
"I'm all for going home. I'm all done!"
Eagerly agreeing, walked back in step
Suddenly Jo tripped up and in pain wept
"Can't go further, my ankle is wrecked"
Leaning on shoulders, onwards they all trekked.
"No, I can't, please, you must stop", poor Jo wailed
"It's agony! she gasped and then inhaled.
"Come on Jo, we can stop at Adam's place".
"We will make it there at a slower pace.
Adam's place was an old abandoned farm
"No, not there!" said Ada-May in alarm
"Afraid of ghosts and ghouls?" mocked Alison
"More like rats and spiders and not much fun!".
Giggling they arrived at old Adam's place
The moonlight showing fear on each girl's face
"We have to go in there, we have no choice"
Jo jumped. "Was that whinnying of a horse?"
On that retort they threw open the door
Stepping inside, they all dropped through the floor
Not one of them survived their dreadful doom
Trapped, without rescue, in the dark, dark room.............
I am a butterfly that loves to sing, every note and word I do fling, to rhythm I do cling, music by the flowers has a beat and ring, the ladybugs threw kisses with love.
Big Green likes to join in, his deep frog voice comes with a big grin, our sounds will make you spin, we like to play outside of the inn, they say our voices fit like a glove.
Rose is a backup voice, then there is sweet pea Joyce, take both and do not make a choice, with the four of us we can now rejoice, is this called garden music~kind of.
We play and sing all night long, the flowers like to sing along, everyone likes to hear tweet~tweet from the birdsong, some of the music can get real strong, in the end it sounds like from heaven above.
Date Written: 4/8/2022
9 Place
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Tall Tales 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jeff Kyser
In Jan, nineteen thirty-three, there was man called Mick Malloy
At the time he was an alcoholic and a poor homeless boy.
A young Irish fire-fighter out of work
He left his home in Donegal - to find some in New York.
He fell in with five real bad men
Who wanted to cause murder back then.
Poor Mick they had him in their sights
An insurance fraud, they brought to light.
They signed three life policies on Mick
Now they had to kill him quick.
Unlimited credit in a speakeasy, they gave him
To drink himself to death-they went out on a limb.
Although he drank all day long
His life it just seemed to prolong
They switched to antifreeze instead
Expecting Mick to wake up dead.
With turpentine they then did tempt
But no success, so they switched to horse liniment.
Finally a drink of rat poison, they gave the poor lad
But Mick never ever seemed to get bad.
They tried oysters, then methanol.
Bad sardines, poison and carpet tacks
But poor old Mick swallowed the lot,
And still poor Mick kept coming back.
The five would be murderers were baffled
Poor Mick just would not die
The murder trust then knew,
something else they would have to try.
One night poor Mick unconscious, they stripped him and carried him out
In minus fourteen degrees,naked, not wearing a single clout.
Threw five gallons of water on him, to make sure that he would freeze
Poor Mick returned the next without even a cough or sneeze.
Mick returned the next day to order himself a drink
The men were getting desperate they really had to think.
Next they hit him with a taxi and broke lots of poor Mick’s bones
But he had three weeks in hospital, then they sent him home.
The gang had thought that Mick was dead
But when they tried to claim, poor Mick returned once more
And kept on his drinking game.
In desperation in February, in fact on the twenty second
They waited for Mick to collapse, then gassed him in a second
A pipe they pushed into his throat and now poor Mick was gone.
The gang did not win even then, no not a single one.
They squabbled and were caught and to Sing Sing them they did send
Four to be fried on the electric chair what a sizzling end
The fifth was sent to prison, which didn’t seem quite fair.
He somehow managed to escape, Sing Sings electric chair
Poor Mick Malloy has been long gone, but will not be forgotten
Just remember to watch your friends though; you never know who’s rotten.
LETTER TO MY FUTURE SELF
Hello there, sweet Lady Jane,
So, it is three weeks before you turn seventy,
do you think you can honestly tell you found
your peace of mind, contentment, happiness?
Or are you still searching for answers to the
things you never understand and wondering
the what ifs, when you damn know there would
be no answers, no explanations, no clarifications.
Your children are giving you a party and all your
grandchildren will be there to celebrate you.
Do they make you proud for what they become?
Or do you still think you did not spend enough time
with them when you cannot turn back time or do
you still worry and wish something better for them?
All your siblings with their spouses, children and
grandchildren will join your family in celebrating
you reaching a major milestone, are you excited?
Or do you still feel like an outsider for your
mother, their mother treated you differently.
I know your life did not turn to be what you wanted,
as your life journey put you through many adversities
including sorrow and pain that you turned out to be
what you are meant to be, a strong willed woman.
You learned to let go the shadows that haunted you
and you accepted and embraced what life threw at you
becoming appreciative and thankful with your blessings.
In the past, you were asked many times what your plans
were for the next five years? ten years? for the future?
You had so many for you couldn’t get no satisfaction.
Now, you just whisper let it be, the words of wisdom.
Your dreams never materialized; but they never left you.
So at this time in your life you think you are never too old
to dream or create new ones by reinventing yourself.
You dare to live your life at its fullest and take a chance
to create your own happiness for it is a decision, a choice.
So, my sweet Lady Jane, it is nice to see you not worrying
about the future; but dancing and rocking to rock and roll
music, living like Ruby Tuesday, you come and go and
change every new day and you just imagine, living for today.
Ahhhh……..
11/22/21 Your Favorite Poem of 2021 Poetry
Chantelle Anne Cooke
9/18/21 Written and Submitted
Letter To Your Future Self Poetry
Silent One
NOTE: My pen name is Sweet Lady Jane
from the Rolling Stone's Lady Jane
The Monarch Who Thought He Was King
Once there was a butterfly
who fluttered by a gate.
The gate was closed, that’s when he said,
“O shucks, now I’ll be late!”
He danced and pranced and shouted
and did not hesitate,
“I demand,” he said with power,
“please, open up this gate!”
To his surprise before his eyes
the gate did open wide.
“A lovely thing; I am the king!
I’m surely qualified.
I had no choice so with my voice
the command I simplified:
‘Just open up this gate!
I need to get inside.’”
He told to all who’d hear him:
“I am the King,” he said.
While some bowed down and listened;
some would not turn their head.
They huffed and puffed and scoffed away,
“We’re sure that you misread.
To open up a gate is easy;
like falling out of bed!”
His shoulders drooped, his forehead sagged;
his eyes filled up with tears,
“You cannot make me less a king
with your scoffing and your sneers.
I am the king,” he fluffed with pride,
“the ruler of my peers.”
Then off he flew without a thought
of all their laughs and jeers.
He fluttered to a purple bush;
the hue fit for a king.
And there he sat to contemplate
and other kingly things.
“I’ll show them all; the small and tall,
and all the scoffs they bring.
A proclamation for my nation:
we’ll hold a royal fling.”
From low and high, from far and near
they gathered close to see
the monarch make his grand command
and show his identity.
A thousand monarch butterflies
watched with frivolity
with five or six ambassadors
from the queendom of the bees.
And there he came with pomp and pride
the self-made king to share
he was a monarch butterfly
and worthy of their care.
He preened his wings and listened for
the sound of his fanfare,
but all he heard was rustling wind
which threw him in the air.
He crashed and tumbled to the floor;
they could not believe their eyes.
The kingdom they had counted on
was built on fibs and lies.
The king was crumpled to the ground
ashamed in his demise.
He let the rain fall down on him
from clouds in the gray skies.
And then he woke up from his nap
and turned inside his bed.
He saw the flowers of his home
of purple, blue, and red.
Right then and there he promised
and to himself he said,
“I’ll be the best of butterflies,
than to be king instead.”
Beautiful is the soul that we all have within is self, buts some of us hungry for a change why do I have to be treated differently I die for a change I wake up every morning faces these same kids day in and out, you cry for the teacher to recognize the pain in her class but she just look the other way its not far for us to come and be treat like dirt and you yelling for help nobody is listening to you lost in this way of life. I get spit on hair is pulled slap on the face cheek red tears are falling kids are laughing so I roll in a baby position looking at the girl next
to me with tearing falling why you doing this to her we can't help that we are not like you God made us this way he wanted us to be who we are is
that our fault. we want what you have she is just a human being just asking for a friend and this is what she gets a slap in the face
for asking, you kids are the once that are ugly was you brought up this way to treat kids this way, I am your brother and sister in God's eyes
so you are hating your sister and brother and deep down you don't even understand why. teach walks in and see her lay there shame
to raise up, my child what happening she looks up I was hit for being who I am, you see it every day why didn't you stop it, she just sits there with a tear my child it's going to get better you will see she pulled me up took me to the office went home with nothing to say child, what happening you made me this way what do you mean I have no friends everybody in that school hates me I don't want to go back never she slaps the door mother standing there with a stare baby girl please stop crying mother know's how you feel how because I went threw the same thing, slowly the door opening up she sits down and we talk people are hurting all over the place so they take it out of the
people that are not like them, we don't know, but what I do know is God has seen it all and things are going to chance you will see, sometimes I just want to kill myself to end it, but my heart feels there is another way out, baby never give up your life for nobody your life is too precious to me remember when you think that my child. a knock on the door who can that be a young man standing there I opening the door he steps in with a smile held out his hand do you remember me, yes I do he came with a kiss hold me so close baby girl you are so beautiful to me.
less
The people of this world are like the three butterflies in front of a candle's flame.
The first one went closer and said:I know about love.
The second one touched the flame lightly with his wings and said:
I know how love's fire can burn.
The third one threw himself into the heart of the flame and was consumed.
The alone knows what true love is.
Rumi
I sit alone in a silent field of fairness,
under saffron rays kissing sunflower serenity,
among dawn's daisies and dusk's dandelions -
watching buds floating away with whisking winds.
Fate does not favour my quest to soar freely.
In a meadow of humanity's betraying breaths,
our buttercup souls become ambushed by a suffocation of sighs.
When there is no justice in spiteful judgement,
visions of Basilisk slither with a deadly gaze.
Envious eyes poisoned by potions of venom,
abuse the selfless mistress of my garden's muse -
but without Eve there would be no Adam nor Eden.
Weeping on the grave of her past self,
her fatigued spirit struggles to fight and rise.
I watch darkness ascend in springtime,
when her mind portrays a veil in the misery of mist.
I feel like a helpless flame burning in ivory wax.
Untreated wounds with time festering
into an ebony existence of self deprecation.
I can see butterfly hunters with their narcissistic nets,
chasing my imperfectly perfect empress of empathy.
Her heart hungers for a plethora of petals,
to hover from a ruby rose to lotuses of liberty,
but predatory birds like harlots and hussies,
have lured her into a withering winter colony of thorns.
Sorrow stitched her eyes closed with merlot thread,
as her sanity sits upon the edge of heaven and hell.
The Devil wears a hat with an emblem of her sins.
The bewitching conspiracy of his crimson eyes,
tempting to massacre the magnificence
of her invisible crystal wings of bronze and gold.
In a martyrdom of self-sacrifice,
love reminds her that kindness glows softly like fireflies,
as she tries to find light in a tunnel of lost thoughts.
The universe echoes her cosmic whispers of life,
as psychedelic ink shimmers like starlight in her veins,
pouring compassion into a selfish blank canvas of hearts.
Cherry blossoms tint the air pink
and she's looking at the world through their gaze,
but knows like everything,
their fragile beauty is only momentary.
A Dragon Squirrel Brigade
Dragon got home from the Army, wanting to be totally, in control.
He wanted to be a Drill Sergeant, to teach the recruits, to be bold.
He gave them all a blankie, and a binkie they could keep, I am told.
They’d throw a rock, and shoot in a blink, like the knight’s of old.
He’d practice the squirrels, now, waging a fight, in an old Hawk War.
A sling shot army, his name to fame, who could dare ask for more?
An army waiting, as they fly at our birds, yep, here’d come the corps.
The gumball tree is ready, yes, ammunition does abound, in galore!
Yep, they’re better than those darn possums, I say, sleeping in the day.
They’d Shoot, hanging upside down, slingshots and gumballs, into play.
Dragon marched them up and down, the trunk, and limbs, in the array.
They’d find the perfect spots, to shoot from, at their whim, in the foray.
Seems, they also learned to jump, into an amazing flying squirrel act.
The flying squirrel missed his target, got caught, in a boy’s hair, for a fact!
A kid then threw rocks at the troops, as the hawks were forgot, you think!
Unfortunately, they are squirrels, and some times, do some squirrelly things.
They closed the town down, with a hornet’s nest in every Road. That stings!
Nobody dared go down the streets, a curfew had been struck, in a blink.
Yep, at that moment, the Hawk decided to stealthfully, swoop in for a bird.
A gutter frog jumped on the hawk’s back, forcing him, to the ground, I heard.
At that, our first hero was made, as gutter frogs joined the squirrel brigade.
As the squirrel was removed from the boys’ hair, the barbershop became…
A place for squirrel nesting supplies, so the curfew was lifted, fast as it came.
A gutter frog offering this advice, became the new General, in this war game.
Squirrels, were tired of marching, and being yelled at by Dragon, that night.
They replaced him with the gutter frog, with less smoke and fire. Alright!
But Dragon’s work was done that day, as the troops were ready to fight.
Finally he was a Hero, for he had turned the tide… He was so very proud.
The moral to my story is:
The troops got a Drill Sergeant, but didn’t need him any more.
A General is enough to carry on, for a Generals’ planning is better…
Than a young Dragon’s power and fire… as, yes, Dragon went off to play.
Written by Carol Eastman 2-8-2015
I take the Flyer and push it to my side.
I made a lot of effort for this sight.
Please let me alone.
,,Can we go ahead and talk in a much more warm tone?"
Cringe.
,,I think it's pretty"
So egoistic.
An inch
I am just going to stay quite, let's just see what the teacher has to say to both of our work, that's more realistic.
The last inch
,,Mia, look in your suitcase"
You saying that with that amusing face.
When I opened it,
I saw the trash of an candy and threw it in yours, back coming to sit.
TheyTalkTalkTalkTalk
Ouch
,,miaaa, don't listen to these losers when they bark",
He winks.
,,You alright?", no my heart sinks.
Am I going to still stay here and act like, no my eyebrows movement icks and the shaking lips kick.
Standupstandupstandup
The chair,
It clirrsclirrsclirrs
It will fallfallfall
My hands close my mouth which is going hurt to call,
to let out words,
for making everthings somehow work.
,,May I go to the toilet please",
,,Sure, is everything on ease?"
I left and closed the door.
beatbeatbeatbeat my hand signals me back: ,,Could I step in the room to make everyone thinking nothing was to worry for? But my heart"
Splaaaashh, schhhhhhhhhh (did I relax now?), splaaaash schhhhhhh (ah,no!!), splaaaash, schhh (I am cry i n g a g ain).
Could they come in? No am I dumb boys can't come in.
I need to go in again, just 20 minutes a thin.
Just walk
Towardstowardstowowards
,,mia"
I need to ignore-
Runrunrunrunrun
He's not following, is he?
The stairs a muddy, after every step I will see them classy.
Right?
,,Mia, here are your things?"
,,Thank you"
Smilebrightsmilebright
Why does he behind us observes us?
They defiently didn't took my stuff.
Oh, he did.
He packed my things.
------------------
Break
-------------
I'm just going to sit somewhere else.
,,hey, can I sit next to you?"
,,sure. Is rverything okay?"
,,yeah, no worries I am just sick"
,,Ah, okay."
Pleasekeeptalkingpleasrkeeptalking
Whyaremytearsstilldripping?
Shedoesn'tpayattention
Yayy.
Oh, him.
I should smile-
Why is he there?
,,Is everything alright?"
Justnoddnoddnodd
,,You know it wasn't him who did that, It was the boy with who you were joking with."
I didn't cry about that.
Couldn't he think?
,,i just had headaches"
,,I wish you well"
Justnoddnoddnodd
He was next to you,
but could'nt even Formulare sentences a few.
While sailing out on morning’s tide
A mermaid on a rock I spied
She was a lovely half-fish girl
With a necklace made of whitest pearl
She smiled and blew a kiss to me
Then disappeared into the sea
She surfaced back behind the boat
And lazily began to float
I grabbed my friend and pointed aft
He thought that I was truly daft
For mermaids don’t exist, you know
My friend quite plainly told me so
No sooner had he walked away
The mermaid came again to play
She sunned herself upon some rocks
And combed her flowing silken locks
I hailed the Captain of our ship
But she had given me the slip
The Captain answered to my call
But saw no mermaid there at all
The Captain thought me quite insane
As my wondrous tale I did explain
When he returned back to his duty
I saw again my ocean beauty
She floated there upon a wave
A subtle wink she slyly gave
And then she flipped her lovely tail
Swimming along as we did sail
I called all of my sailor friends
To show them her curvaceous fins
They asked if I was feeling well
When my story I began to tell
I pointed to the mermaid fair
But when they looked, nothing was there
They thought that I had lost my mind
No mermaid out there could they find
They left and shook their weary heads
And sleepily went to their beds
My head was in a dizzy whirl
I saw the ocean waters swirl
Then once again she came in sight
Swimming in the pale moonlight
I yelled and danced a frantic jig
As they hauled me off into the brig
“He’s lost it” I did hear them say
As they sadly went upon their way
Through the port of my little cell
I watched the sea waves rise and swell
Then suddenly next to the glass
I saw the little seaward lass
She took the pearls off of her neck
And tossed them up onto the deck
Then off she swam into the deep
As I wearily slipped off to sleep
When came the early light of dawn
I stretched my arms and gave a yawn
Then my good friend upon the ship
Ran down with pearls fast in his grip
"You won’t believe the sight I saw"
He said to me, face filled with awe
Last night while I was by the rail
I heard a voice give me a hail
Next thing I knew, here came these pearls
From underneath the ocean swirls
"Quite right you were", he said to me
"A mermaid threw these from the sea"
I winked and said “I don’t think so”
For mermaids don’t exist you know