Long Throw down Poems
Long Throw down Poems. Below are the most popular long Throw down by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Throw down poems by poem length and keyword.
I can't judge you for judging me, I'd just be judging you too. I can't point a finger at you right now, three more will just be pointing back at me. Two negatives may make it right in Math, but here in the real world two wrongs only equal disaster.
So be patient with my impatience and I'll love you through your hatred. These daggers called words we're flashing in our faces might just find their way to somebody's throat. Let's throw down our daggers and smoke the peace pipe, let's wave our white flags in the darkness.
We may not be at peace but let's not be at war. We may not be friends no more, but let's not be enemies. For we better be strangers to each other than casualties of enmity's battles.
Let's walk away and breathe again than stay together and burn to ashes.
Woke up this morning
With news headlines spawning
I do not know if it's winter yet
Because of old age I often forget
Got to realise how weird it is
When I can brush my teeth
And scratch my nose
But try as I might
I just can't touch my toes
Wasn't too bothered when
Often times back ache set in
And even when Viagra
Didn't give me the desired vim
But this is not a funny joke
The morning when I woke
And begin to realize
That I could twist my hip
Do a jig
But try as I might ,
I just can't tough my toes.
Pinocchio was a lier
Kristine Keeler was a hooker
And Lord Lampton got exposed
But trouble comes in different parcels
But where mine is heading
God only knows
When my wallet drop on the floor
Bend down to pick it up
Like brass monkey in winter
The entire lumber vertebrae, froze
Often times mi get a pain in the neck
When it comes, I can deal with it
Sometimes mi love to dance
Do a foxtrot and even a quickstep
But that is no compensation
When mi toe nail look like talon
And size ten no longer fit mi
But try as I might to cover them
With knitted socks, mi get since when
Its a doomed attempt
Flexibility is now a distant memory
And back ache now my closest friend
Mi know young people
Will laugh at old people's talk
But it only seems like yesterday
When I too was laughing
But today , I am walking the walk.
The same thing whey a reach mi
Is the same thing a happen to mi friend
But if you think it can't reach you
You better think again
Mi used to be a little sprite
Do head spins and bouncing somersaults
Do some boxing, and throw down a fight
But time travels faster than lightening
And my black hair overdosed on whitening
So before you reach my milestone
Heed my warning, get enlighten
That one day, not so far away
Things are going to be past memories
Because try as you might
You may bend your knees ,
Scratch your nose
Try as you might
You just can't touch your toes.
Sotto Poet, first Sonnet and Constance La France, second Sonnet
Oh Cupid, luscious whiff of magic love,
when "love" comes it is a blissful feeling;
I lay in bed gazing at stars above,
Cupid, spread your wings and bring my darling.
Oh Cupid, rejoice with a flourish blow,
our love grows more intense and more divine;
sexy seductress Venus you should know,
you are sublime- like a fresh spring design.
Oh Cupid, find your petals to throw down,
from candles lit- a whiff wafts in the breeze;
and skies open . . . flowers make a love crown,
for seeing my Venus fills me with ease.
Shall we share this sweet enduring impact;
for to your love- I will always react.
Dreamer, can you feel my kiss on your cheek,
the flutter of my hands upon your hair;
my sweet aura is one of great mystique,
the fragrance of flowers drift in the air.
Dreamer, you called upon Cupid for love,
to bring desire, passion and bliss divine;
but I am of dreams and from high above,
oh dreamer, lets stargaze laying supine.
The gold moon shining on us is fleeting,
for already the birds stir in the trees;
soon dreamer, the dawn- we will be greeting,
my love, I must leave you on the morn's breeze.
And you will awake dreamer- with charm;
soon, a lady will be holding your arm.
____________________
October 15, 2022
Poetry/Sonnet/Venus Dreamer
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1494-576-15
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Collaboration
Sotto Poet and Constance La France
"The Gallant Night Kisses Victory"
As Night lowers herself victorious
over his moving fortress
she is draped transparent surrounded
by a milky mist, a myriad of dazzling stars
She remains unconquered
Victory cannot see her
The Gallant Night Kisses Victory
The scent of cinnamon and green apples
surrounds his crown, his sword en garde he checks,
“Was that a sound, the crackling of kindling on fire perhaps?” his heart pounds
for a while, he treads onwards, fallen branches, gold and russet leaves under foot,
each leaf a bless'ed and cursed story, what they've seen in Lost Lovers Woods,
He thinks of witches and spectral phantoms
walking towards him over his hallowed Hollow Hills grounds
An Autumn breeze cool fingers invisible trace his lips
His pale armour dewdrop and moonlit dappled
His noble neck, she licks, a taste of war he’s been in battle
Tiredness overcomes him, his emotions burnt and rattled
Sleep calls to him, but he does not sleep
He watches over his emotions, keeps them like soldiers
under control, in tight, in neat, concealed
In the Quiet Time he hears her haunting whisper
she strokes his hand on sword and drugs his mind
“Throw down your gauntlet King, the Victory is all yours,
I am your Night,
And you are mine.”
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/xOCDUQ2zuXE
Until The Ribbon Breaks – One Way or Another
Hay now, now sing this corrosion
Of winter wastes and Red stars white nights
And waring tribes a bully on the block
To kick you when your down
The ones meek and mild
But can stand tall n defend their ground.
So hay now, now, sing to me a man of fragility
Of many means and wants all and nothing more
But to have dominion over the land, you wanted a war
now you can't win, you have not a war but a massacre
A genocide, you are your only suicide
If you want a war WE can bring you your war a jihad
If the cultural empire strikes
You will know war, but why fight return
To your frozen land of winter waste before its to, to late
Leave this sovereign nation
Let your people rise up
Throw off the yoke of opposition
Put down your guns
and turn and run no one will get hurt
So sing, now, hay now, now to me of this dominion
Sing of a white house in a red square of mother Russia, your dispair
Of white wastes, throw down your oppressor
As we bring the Rain to wash away his stain
You are better than one
A little pale pathetic man
A man-made of a killer in a high place
OH! Mother Russia!
Sing down, down, down this oblivion...
You have nothing to lose
We said it once will say it before
Cast down the crown of a ruined nation
Time to cast off the chains of subservience
Rise up and be free
END THIS WAR!
Before it's too, too late...
for the Ukraine
On a horse at the crossroads a pistol in his hand
Dressed in dark clothing he looked fine and grand
Waiting in the moonlight for the York coach to appear
With cool nerves of steel; he showed no fear.
A gentleman by day and a Highwayman by night
Only carried out his crimes when the moon shone bright
Nicknamed Captain Luna; there was a price on his head
If you didn’t part with your valuables you’d end up dead
He heard it in the distance; the approaching coach
A lady friend had requested a necklace or a brooch
He'd heard some well to do had attended a ball
They'd be dripping with jewellery; he wanted it all.
He moved onto the road as the coach drew near
His face covered with a black mask to instill fear
He ordered the two coachmen “slow down to a stop
And throw down those bags you have on the top”.
He then shouted to the passengers" alight if you please
And line up if you will, over yonder by them tree’s”
Three ladies and a gentleman dressed in clothes so fine
Adorned with jewellery that twinkled, in the moonshine.
He said “you and your fine jewellery must forever part
Please fill up my leather bag and I'll let you depart”
The ladies were crying thinking that they'd all die
They thought anything Captain Luna said would be a lie.
He went through the bags and pulled out a silk dress
And thought to himself this will fit my lady friend Tess
He picked up his leather bag and into the night rode away
Leaving his victims quite shaken and in total disarray.
Written 15th day of April 2020.
When mining thoughts, how deafening the ring
We search the walls of silence for a vein
A golden verse to strum on soft heart strings
To touch someone and stake a poet's claim
We chip away, in rubble, as we pick
It falls as wads of paper on the floor
When suddenly a glowing candlewick
We've struck the mother lode of metaphors
And as the liquid gold flows through the pen
In words of love and matters of the heart
The muse begins to tingle deep within
While he assays the worth of this new art
These nuggets that we find could be for sale
If bells are ringing, don't throw down the pail.
(LOL)
by Daniel Turner
I fight for me, I fight for my son
Knowing that when the day ends than the night will come
I stand with my head high with red eyes
Not worried about them because to me they're just dead lies
Why stress what I can't control
I'm doing my best Lord bless my soul
I know its going to be distractions in the way that contest my goals
But Im in it to win it until my eyes close & you rest my soul
I've been against the wall with my head in my lap
My biggest fear that I feared to hear was hearing that my brother's were found dead in the trap
But they dodged that bullet & instead ended up behind bars
Lord knows pain bleeds from my soul, a true poet blinded by scars
I lost my father when I was young, he was signed to the stars
I question why him because he didn't bother none in life but still for some reason he was taken from ours
But happens that's life so I got to keep it moving, I can't slow my pace
The truth will get out then all secrets are ruined, in life I've did so much dirt I ain't want to show my face
But I grew up quick no huddle, I had to plan around the blitz right
Any minute knowing it could go down so I stayed ready for the throw down like I was picking a fist fight
But no opponent, I was fighting myself
Blinded as a young kid, addicted to fast cash enlightened by wealth
Use to be in them streets thinking any minute I'm done bro, watching them guns blow
Than God blessed me with a seed & broke my obsession with greed
Told me to think smart and not sink into the dark, so no longer hopeless but awoke with a stronger focus, now my only goal is to watch my son grow.
In the vortex of a maelstrom, I was rudely thrown
drowning in turbulent waters for an error I bemoan,
a blunder of loving someone who chose to whittle
away at my heart until it became fragile and brittle
Bereft beyond the point of caring if I lived or died
My eyes were scarlet, burning from tears I'd cried
But they became transfixed, immutable on a fire stoked
for my normally tenuous demeanor had been provoked
I was a genteel lady, who demurely acquiesed to love
but it was time for me to throw down the gauntlet glove
I was chafed by what had been just an interlude for him,
an escapade, a mere dalliance, a rascally romantic whim
I drew a rough sketch; in likeness of my vagabond swain
an abstract portrait, in Picasso's style, the face of my bane
Black eyes were hollow, blind orbs that would never see
that his triflling peccadillo tryst was a brutal betrayal to me
The painting was delivered as twelve bells pealed midnight
I watched as he unfolded it, but carefully kept out of sight
A formidable opponent I had become to his knavish ways
By moonlight I saw his face turn pale; his eyes were glazed
* November 3, 2017*
Eight Word Challenge-5
Hosted by John Hamilton
8 Words required were: Brittle Immutable Formidable
Tenuous Interlude Sketch Bereft Demurely
Gazing out my window pane,
so much comes into view.
Is my sight a reality,
I really have no clue.
Raindrops dew on leaves,
flowers humming with bees,
a cardinal perched on the sill above,
and higher yet flies a dove.
Sun breaks overhead,
beams of light
bounce off this garden scene
vanishing into the shadows in between.
All creatures big and small
nestle into their nook or cranny,
safe and warm like a glowing hearth,
a place I should really fancy.
But now it's time to close these shutters,
throw down the sash, no words to utter.
I will go to bed and get some rest,
not to come back here, I think it best