Long Throwers Poems
Long Throwers Poems. Below are the most popular long Throwers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Throwers poems by poem length and keyword.
Curiosity came to visit
My mind the other day.
The disused farm shed was filled
With boxes, bags, and bales of hay.
The boxes could have had anything,
Any type of something cool.
Dusty cans, old flame throwers
And an old milking stool.
And then it occurred, the wooden boxes
and tea chests were the real gold mine.
Dripping years of age, and ages of gone
Stocked with empty moonshine.
This shed would look great
Just boxes and crates lining the wall.
The ancient beams and rusted iron
Sort of like an artistic hall.
Paintings clinging to the timber
Natural red and green in pop art style
With shades of grey hanging around,
Something sexy once in a while.
Curiosity came to visit
In an old rusty barn.
It’s now a funky art room where
People laugh and tell their yarn.
Dear Mr president
I seem to be in a spot of bother,
Would you please grant me a pardon
before you depart the oval room,
Seeking a change of reality
I ran away and joined the circus
well actually it was more a sideshow
Ringmaster said I’d fit in better with the midget contortionist,
however I was drawn towards the Siamese triplets,
joined together at their knees and elbows since birth
We got up to all sorts of hi jinx and Shenanigans life was great,
til the one in the middle decided to leave our troupe,
Me being their best friend they asked would I do the separation,
eager to help them I agreed to perform the operation
Not having a clue about surgery
I decided to knock them out with a sledgehammer
borrowed from the strongman,
and use the knife throwers sharpest blades,
I butchered them remorselessly for hours,
was a very difficult operation,
but wholly satisfying for me anyway,
Unfortunately but not unexpectedly,
the middle one suffered the most cuts and bled out pretty quick,
the other two died days later in multiple beds,
I was put in some hospital for the criminally insane,
and doped up to my eyeballs on potent medication,
actually settled in quite nicely here,
Worse part though is I had a fantastic combover like yours
now they shave my head every other day
Some say they’ll never let me out,
only occasionally do I think of going on killing rampages,
I’m not getting on to well with the parole board, “mostly democrats”
but hope to marry the midget contortionist, on our next imaginary visit,
The circus was disbanded, shortly after,
and they all live on welfare now,
bunch of really great guys.
I’m a republican
PARDON GRANTED
By David Kavanagh
ALL ABOUT THE LIPS
He has seen her before
But today he saw her for the first time.
She walked his way
Her smile and laugh carried across the field
The field was freshly cut
The aroma of fresh-cut spring grass,
Frisbee throwers jumping, catching, laughing
Light breeze and warm sun,
Everybody smiles with happiness.
Beautiful day as she bounced up the stairs.
Getting warmer by the minute
Her bright glossed lips show their luscious fullness.
Like Heinz ketchup out of a bottle
Slow with anticipation, he fantasized about her.
They locked lips. Oh, those horizontal lips!
Lips finding each other repeatedly
Tongues started flicking
He stopped to breathe.
Imagining her full natural mounds,
Her moist vertical silky covered lips.
Man’s desirable dreams.
She walked by bringing him back to reality
As he watched her walk away
He smiled, going back to reading his Nook.
The Amnesic Liturgy of Nomadic Gestures
we keep on our foreheads impatience sharp as a lunar scythe
the mulatto day laid its tired body on the cold flagstone
in the transparent eye of the horse the velvet raven startles
beneath bear furs we carry the three bodies of morning
the thornbush remembers the ceremony on the yellow millstone of newspaper
three crystal wings for each nomad with their mechanics
the tree inventories our voice when its trembling crown
gathers sensations in a translucent orbit of smile
we inaugurate the hour of love on the collarbone when green sky collapses
how we transform the bent knee into severe balance
the die with glowing numbers rolls the player's palms
fertile whisper slows the burning tongue of the white thigh
silence unties its deep wells I hear the sky with fingers
the transparent clarity of the eyelid signs the violet evening's pupil
great monuments fall drowsy in their fanatic dream leaning
you keep the red apple on your head the error of foreseen arrow
the prey has hidden in the hunter's ankle without dangers
I with mouth full of seaweed with nostril snowed by ice
unprotected by fear I dig with the comb's teeth the exile of names
on the bell in its monotonous beating remains the golden pollen
on the rough bark of words a hoary forgotten breeze
weathered by rains at the radiant dwelling of lightning
slow multiplication pulverizes meaning and about this
your nape brings back the penumbra of serpents discus throwers
you throw the umbrella of echoes far like a liquid miracle
proportional trunks for the almost confluent sleep
advisory restlessness has left us for the silent ball
with its hay mask stuck to cheeks paled by moon
tomorrow anyway you'll resume the journey across green plains
in the shrill acclamations of the grasshopper the forgotten lamp
the fork twists itself toward velvety darkness
the warm wax of the kiss protects us from dizzy grass
we breathe deeply listening to the memory of drowned waters
To all the Garbage Throwers
Who see this as a game
I just wanted to let you know
I thank you just the same
Right after I clean up your garbage
I see you put it all right back there
Even if I put it under a rock to bag later
You take it out and throw it everywhere
Yes! I see we are playing a game
Oh I love games, that's true
So I just wanted to thank you
For the game I play with you
I will learn to smile each day
As I pick it all back up
Even though you continue
To throw around your McDonald's cups
May you learn to shine beautiful
May you find a reason to smile
If this helps give it to you
Then I'll go the extra mile!
For perhaps I need to learn patience
Perhaps you need to learn respect
Perhaps I need to learn see the bright side
And perhaps you need a little regret
But whatever path we are on
Whatever lesson we have to learn
We can turn it all into a game for now
Question is... who should get the last turn?
I went to park on a summers' day
To people watch and find escape
Bikers and skaters and joggers too
Frisbee throwers, a patriarchal zoo
But of the characters of this parade
A boy and his dog seemed the most brave
The boy would climb a tree the dog would follow
Right up to the top or even a hollow
Across a bridge into the lake
The dog right behind not a moment to waste
Such a friendship they had two silly clowns
Adventures abundant ups and downs
And the dog and the boy wore the same smile
Oblivious to onlookers true to their style
The boy maybe ten the dog maybe two
In the park for the day all part of the zoo.
Tongues of solar flare writhe in combat kiss
—flame-throwers unleashed
iron words h a m m e r e d in fire
ferrous words melt-morph into heart-welts
once under skin
hear the fevered air burn with cheers;
c a c k l e s of c r a c k l e s and h -i -s -s -s
bellies of tears full of fire; fire feeds on gasoline tears
fire-eaters’ —bellies full of flames
turn inside-out; fire-breathers shape-shift
from love doves to squawk hawks
bonfire of marital bliss consumed by wildfire
desolation burns holes in lacy i n* t i* m a* c y
ashes
fall
from
s o l o
cigarettes
. . . nuclear winter in summer
t h r o a t s of songbirds c h a r r e d
. . . silence
follows blaring —w h o o s h— of serpent fire
purification in cremation of all OratiOn sound
liability and liberation
animate to dissipate in snaky smoke of HeLL-wraiths
apathy clouds form they rain on red heat
smother a smolder mother a cease fire
ember-ice; scalds freezes t–h–a–w–s
whets flesh — and wets fire extinguished flower bed
ashes laid down
—passion’s quiet confetti paves a path—
w. a. i. t. s
— s l e e p w a l k s
… d r e a m s
It was on a Sunday morning in the village where I stay
Out walking with my dog, I heard some pensioners say
Did you hear about the earthquake, it was somewhere in our State
No magnitude has ever been like it, it's impossible to relate
Quickly I headed home, to view this terrible news
Upon turning on the TV, I'm in horror at what my eyes now view
The awesome Golden Gate Bridge, against an azure bluey day
Lies broken, distorted and twisted, as if it's foundations had given way
The camera now focuses on the mainland, capturing plumes of choking black
Freeways lie twisted and contorted, trains running from their tracks
Gas lines spew throwers of flames, sirens resonate in blaring sound
What was level hours before, have dropped from it's original grounds
Many reporters are now on the scene, as they pan out across the blue
From the helicopter of CNN, Alcatraz disappears from their view
Slowly the island it sat on, as if by magic, now it has gone
Words are heard through the speakers, what the hells gone wrong
The daylight turns to black, a city lies in shreds
Memories of 1906, when three thousand plus were dead
All through the night, tremors came and went
Has history repeated itself, the San Andreas Serpent
I am awoken in the morning, having left the TV on
Panic stricken reporters screaming, most of San Francisco's gone
Where once stood a city, lie pillars of battered ruins
Deep gorges surround them, in bloodied scattered strewn
There's a break in the programme, it's from Yellowstone National Park
The land is starting to rise, incredible is the remark
Geysers that once flowed often, have receded in their shower
Are we about to witness, another of her powers
Back to the CNN studios, more footage of the morning
Towering inferno's in sickened tears, the clock, the warning
I fall to my knees in remembrance of the date
It's December the 21st, has earth met it's fate
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/fantasy-17.php
they say that
the traveling carnival
will visit our town soon
whether the weather
has been lately
somehow filled with gloom
and I'm just lurking
by the railway tracks
waiting for the ghostly train
and feel in my bones
that something wicked
is on it's sinister way
buy the ticket,
take the ride!
shout the jolly jesters
through danse macabre
balloons and darts
to the house of wacky waxworks
the imaginarium
lures everyone in
to explore the forbidden
fantasies of lust
with unknown consequences
something's just wrong
with this carnival of rust
what about the somber freakshow
the panopticon
the maze of terrors
thrills and spills
skeletal knife throwers
bizarre exhibitions
dark amusements
or a carousel that kills
beware the carnivores
of the eerie carnival
don't go there when it arrives
beware the devilish attractions
don't believe
the bait of fun times
[Guitar instrumental intro]
I feel just like tinder
whenever you are around
you get to your sparking
and embers form around
I can't help but start glowing
you set me all on fire
you know it too those embers are for you
you set my world on fire
[Chorus]
Combustible!
but only for you
How did you turn my world upside down?
Keep me up all night long!
Combustible!
You sear me with your kiss
I am eager for your glances
and hang on every word
[Verse 2]
And when we get behind closed doors
and we are on a page
I am afraid the bedclothes suffer
the housekeepers deserve a wage
We barely eat
We barely sleep
We are at it again
Like twin flame throwers amen !
[Chorus]
Combustible!
We burn down the house
We don't see anyone else
The world fades away
and you steal my breath away
I can't help but start glowing
you set me all on fire
you know it too those embers are for you
you set my world on fire
[Chorus]
Combustible!
But only for you
How did you turn my world upside down?
Keep me up all night long!
[Guitar Solo]
And when we get behind closed doors
and we are on a page
I am afraid the bedclothes suffer
the housekeepers deserve a wage
We barely eat
We barely sleep
We are at it again
Like twin flame throwers amen !
[Chorus]
Combustible!
We burn down the house
We don't see anyone else
The world fades away
and you steal my breath away
[Outro]