Long Tonne Poems
Long Tonne Poems. Below are the most popular long Tonne by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tonne poems by poem length and keyword.
Since there was no stone to close Jesus’ death tomb
According to modern Christian myth, it had vanished,
But as of the Gospel version of this story, boom,
In Luke 24:2 the stone was rolled away - astonished?
Matthew 28 verses 1 to 6 tell us squarely, no tact,
That an angel appeared to the two women, the Mary’s,
To the next of kin in Jesus’ life, mum and partner, fact,
Which defers upon these two people the quandaries.
Jesus had caused such a kerfuffle amongst professionals,
In the medical scene he’d had an important remark,
That the poor should also receive treatment, nationals,
Did it in public even, brought medicine out of the dark.
So the continuation of this new strand of medicine,
Had to be engineered, and the two Mary’s saw that,
So, I detect, they told a lie about the internment scene,
Because they suggest strength by angels having hat.
When you do exercises too much or strain excessively,
You can see an angel if you believe in them, reflection,
So I deduce that Mary and Mary moved the stone actively,
And cremated his body without guilt or hesitation.
A lie can often hint the original truth, when you tell one,
And so the real story can be deduced, concluded, traced,
And the Gospel states that the stone was set aside, tonne,
Not disappeared implying god had resurrected and aced.
Extreme fundamentalist parents tell their kids smugly,
That the stone had vanished without explanation,
But you can see clearly that Christianity was born really,
From the two Mary’s and the gardener’s cremation.
I see we are open again.
It’s time to welcome old friends.
The homely, the lonely,
they who want only
to have somewhere to place their rear ends.
The people I bear are so glad.
The stories I hear are not bad.
Where I smell the beers
and I taste the tears
of the sad, and they who are driven mad.
So come in, come on, come over - come over and take a seat.
I am here to help you take your mind off your feet.
All day I sit here waiting for everyone who comes.
I am your barroom bar-stool, who welcomes all your bums.
Here comes a raving beauty, this is gunna be fun.
An hour glass figure; tight blue jeans - where do those legs run?
But why has she stopped walking?
Can’t she just stop talking!
Oh no, wait - this bloke’s fat and ugly and he weighs two tonne.
Barroom stools have feelings too.
They just don’t see a pretty face,
although they love to touch the cheeks
that are in some other place -
So come in, come on, come over - come over and take a seat.
I am here to help you take your mind off your feet.
All day I sit here waiting for everyone who comes.
I am your barroom bar-stool, who welcomes all your bums.
Now here comes the girl that I’m looking for.
An hour glass figure and parts to explore.
Her blonde hair’s amazing;
I feel like hell raising,
for bar stools like you also like to score.
The life of a bar-stool is a life worth living.
Supporting the souls who need forgiving.
I’m hoping each minute the perfect one comes,
‘cause I’m sick of tired of supporting old bums.
I see we are open again.
It’s time to welcome old friends.
The homely, the lonely,
they who want only
to have somewhere to place their rear ends.
The people I bear are so glad.
The stories I hear are not bad.
Where I smell the beers
and I taste the tears
of the sad, and they who are driven mad.
So come in, come on, come over - come over and take a seat.
I am here to help you take your mind off your feet.
All day I sit here waiting for everyone who comes.
I am your barroom barstool, who welcomes all your bums.
Here comes a raving beauty, this is gunna be fun.
An hour glass figure; tight blue jeans - where do those legs run?
But why has she stopped walking?
Can’t she just stop talking!
Oh no, wait - this bloke’s fat and ugly and he weighs two tonne.
Barroom stools have feelings too.
They just don’t see a pretty face,
although they love to touch the cheeks
that are in some other place -
So come in, come on, come over - come over and take a seat.
I am here to help you take your mind off your feet.
All day I sit here waiting for everyone who comes.
I am your barroom barstool, who welcomes all your bums.
Now here comes the girl that I’m looking for.
An hour glass figure and parts to explore.
Her blonde hair’s amazing;
I feel like hell raising,
for bar stools like you also like to score.
The life of a barstool is a life worth living.
Supporting the souls who need forgiving.
I’m hoping each minute the perfect one comes,
‘cause I’m sick of tired of supporting old bums.
SINLESS EYES - a collab with JAMES FRASER
SINLESS EYES
Nine solid months unto her womb is he,
breathing and heartbeat they do as one.
Carrying him safely, his husband sees,
providing food and money his daily home run
'til the day his son pleas to be out in the sun.
(always then his aim is to be a good guy)
Though it will take a long long time, his son--
sinless eyes, no smiles, when the children cry...
His son grew then unto the world he spree
where he is exposed to gases, bombs and gun.
Along the streets, he and others learn a key--
that learning curve adhere but some remains undone.
Shoulders bruised, torn, from bearing a tonne,
some lost souls wander, their life gone awry--
falling short to wonder later how it all began,
sinless eyes, no smiles, when the children cry...
Can later bestow some better decree,
outlasting evil by following a model-- a nun?
On returning to God by following thee,
from this day, forward, man shall never shun
to battles that last even 'til midnight sun.
Answers possessed on the strings of whys
and never again to ask for a hired gun.
Sinless eyes, no smiles, when the children cry...
Darkness is beaten, light has won!
Wisdom now reached, cocooning the guy,
a new day now welcomes another son
sinless eyes, no smiles, when the children cry...
©O. E. Guillermo and J.A. Fraser
9:40 pm, December 01, 2014
SINLESS EYES
Nine solid months unto her womb is he,
breathing and heartbeat they do as one.
Carrying him safely, his husband sees,
providing food and money his daily home run
'til the day his son pleas to be out in the sun.
(always then his aim is to be a good guy)
Though it will take a long long time, his son--
sinless eyes, no smiles, when the children cry...
His son grew then unto the world he spree
where he is exposed to gases, bombs and gun.
Along the streets, he and others learn a key--
that learning curve adhere but some remains undone.
Shoulders bruised, torn, from bearing a tonne,
some lost souls wander, their life gone awry--
falling short to wonder later how it all began,
sinless eyes, no smiles, when the children cry...
Can later bestow some better decree,
outlasting evil by following a model-- a nun?
On returning to God by following thee,
from this day, forward, man shall never shun
to battles that last even 'til midnight sun.
Answers possessed on the strings of whys
and never again to ask for a hired gun.
Sinless eyes, no smiles, when the children cry...
Darkness is beaten, light has won!
Wisdom now reached, cocooning the guy,
a new day now welcomes another son
sinless eyes, no smiles, when the children cry...
©J.A. Fraser and O. E. Guillermo
9:40 pm, December 01, 2014
What is the purpose of life?
Can't even keep your wife!
Then there's holding a job.
Are you really that much of a kxxb
Life is surely about family
Why can't it be for me
Am I that screwed up?
Over floweth does the cup
Is this just another blip
Or am I travelling on the one way ship
What is wrong with me
My loved ones I can not see
Why do I make them suffer
It's my fault I'm a fluffer
They deserve better than me
They should have stability
Why do I feel alone
Can't even grab the phone
If only I was passed
The family have tranquility at last.
The black dog is on my shoulder
Really getting bolder and bolder
He canvwait untill im in focus
Then i can give him some hoous copus
Failing is something I can't do
Unfortunately this is not true
I am a massive failure
Larger than a 10 tonne trailer
I don't feel to good today
MENTAL HEALTH what can I say
Slashes on my arm to feel pain
What can I say about my brain
It hurts when you lose control
If I didn't the family would be whole
Not very nice when your thoughts are strong
When you feel you don't belong
Woke up today feeling embarrassed
Because of actions arm's are a mess
But today will begin a new chapter
After all I am the Black Dog Catcher
Wiltshire is a lovely place too be
A county with plenty of history
Neolithic rocks from north to south
You can even see a white horses mouth
With walks over undulating ground
Find the mystery of the giants mound
You can see where the soldiers train
On the expansive Salisbury Plain
With white horses carved into the hill
Walk around them enjoy the thrill
If you are not able to do the walks
Visit the heritage centers hear the talks
But if all else fails jump into the car
You can easily see them from afar
No queuing required and it's free
Come to Wiltshire and you will see
Stonehenge, Avebury stones too name but afew
I guarantee you will go phew
Ingenuity of the people before
Its amazing, it will not bore
Moving those rocks that weigh a tonne
Without machinery just father and son
Carving horses into those chalky hills
Showing us, all thier artistic skills
So visit Wiltshire and see these sights
Plenty to do from morning to night
Let the country air cover your face
Do this slowly it's not a race
Enjoy your trip to this county
Paradise Yes without the bounty
Meet the locals and have a chat
Enjoy a cider you can't beat that
frail and afraid to be forgotten, i feel old and worn,
too many times, iv had my mere being torn,
forgive me if i will not reason,
it feels as if everything is treason,
i have lived a life of betrayal and mistrust,
but trust is you, in us, i must,
i am trying to fight my fears,
lonely now, i free my tears,
flowing strongly like never before,
oh this pain, i cant bare much more
not seeing you here,
not feeling you near,
reality has hit me like a train on the run,
its like the weight of the world is on me, it weights a tonne,
i want to be free of the constraints that hold me,
but i am terrified, what if this couldnt be,
wat if i cant relive myself of this ongoing pain?
what if i have to go through it all over again?
give me a hand to hold,
show me how to be bold,
when i felt the end was near,
you tod me you were right here,
i was so close i could taste freedom,
i didnt know who i was or whre i was from,
i just wanted it to end then and there,
but you should me a way that i could bare,
I was so close, i could hear peace calling me,
it was there where i should be,
but i turned away
and said goodbye death, today is not my day.
Form:
I judge men by the colour of their teeth,
And by the colours of their teeth I group them:
The Whites we have,
The Blacks we have,
The Browns we have,
And the Yellows too.
Life we all start as Whites, and with good care
Whites we remain.
With less care Yellows we become;
With yet lesser care Browns we become;
And with least care to Blacks we turn.
‘Tis thus that our descent down the rungs of color
Often bespeaks our personal quality.
By effort and discipline Blacks, Browns, and Yellows
are sometimes to Whites restored:
So it is that men can choose what color they'll be
If by tooth not skin we judge their color.
There is song and speech in the colors of their teeth
From which can be gleaned glimpses of their habits
and hints of their mettle.
But neither song nor speech we find in their skins
Which are born mute, live mute, and die mute.
So if ever you hear my skin speak,
Spinning tales of my habits and mettle,
Rather look up my teeth and hear their side.
They lack a tan but speak a tonne--
That much I know from my years on earth.
The whole truth they may not give
But what you get is closer to it!
Getting of a London bus
On a sweltering day in June
Trying not to swear or cuss -
I knew I’d be home soon.
The shopping bags were heavy
They seemed to weigh a tonne,
But I knew this was the levy,
For my cuppa in the sun.
My senses all were bristling
As I reached up for the pot
When the kettle started whistling,
With the water bubbling hot.
Holding handle and the spout
With a gentle, slow gyration,
I warmed the pot throughout
With expectant jubilation.
That rich and sweet perfume
Of tea leaves as they brew
Fill my senses and the room
With the wonder they imbue.
I set my China cup,
Upon its saucer on the tray,
Eager for that first sweet sup,
I pour without delay.
Tea, deep brown and steaming,
Softened by a splash of milk,
Sends my taste buds reeling
When I sip it’s liquid silk.
For some, it’s like a ritual,
For some just rehydration
For some a joy, habitual,
A wonder of creation.
For me it’s like a refuge
From the storms, the stress and strife
When drowning in life’s deluge
This Elixir of life !