Long Twister Poems
Long Twister Poems. Below are the most popular long Twister by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Twister poems by poem length and keyword.
Warm your heart with what’s left of summer, warm your heart and put on a thick skin for winter, open all the resorts and hotel all over the town and fill them with tourist where destiny is bound.
Fire and storms will come, twister, tornados, typhoon, hurricane, cyclone will take you up to the moon and when the earthquake levels everything to the ground you can find solace on the other side of the town. When the fires burn the hill, just look up to the skies and keep still, it is purifying the land so the next generation can sing a happy song.
Warm your heart with what is left of the summer, warm your heart and dine with me in winter. I will give you discount on every suite and I will give you half price for a table for two to romance in the breeze. Get the whole family and come and have some summer fun life goes on for the battle that is not yet won.
Many businesses are down and total devastation is left in the town but somewhere in the middle of the ruins, there is hope. You can clear away a spot, set up a mobile kitchen, an entertainment corners and bring the caterers in.
The tourist bus will arrive in your town and they will greet you without a frown, the ships will come too and you will have business for the rest of the year so don’t fear.
Warm your heart with what is left of the summer get your friends and family and join me for dinner, Aunt Jane cannot come because her grieving is long,
She cannot get over the loss of her entire family. Three boys, a husband and four dogs perish in the fire. She was away when the fire started; she is inconsolable and she is vulnerable so we visit her from time to time to tell her that life is divine. She will always have a seat at this table.
Warm your heart with what is left of the summer and let’s go shopping, before winter, we will get something’s from the gardens store because we are going to do a big barbecue outdoor.
You must get some household gift, kitchen counter and table items. You will go to the electronic store and buy many things galore; business is very slow so you will bring some people in the town and have blowout sale all year round.
Warm your heart with what’s left of the summer, take a trip to Japan, China or America, just let it all go and get ready for the big show.
Winter is around the corner so enjoy what is left of the summer; just warm your heart.
Lights out, lights out!in the run about, the critte
rs flee to me. Storm, blazing lightening, air too w
arm My friends with fur feel a curse On the wi
nd- a sense of berzerk Huddling together, kit
ty close for good measure Ozone green, bir
ds stop the preen Feels like a train is
gliding by, so close nigh Rumble the
ground before the sound The animal
s knew-I had no clue. we shudder
in this shack back to back. A -
growl here, a hiss there, out
A banshee on the wind, mak
es me want to flee Ye
t the TWISTER keeps
us here, shaking me
nagerie Slamming ra
in above our h
eads- Oh the d
read! Here we
must stay
- as buildings
rock and sw
ay Perha
ps
- for
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Baile con migo, hips made from the rhythm of merengés and cumbias, samba, swagger and a pinch of azucar mixed into my backbone.
My first language was Spanish.
Learned from sweet stories told by my papi at bedtime.
My tongue a formation of the stardust of my heritage,
An intertwined galaxy of rolled r’s and the pledge of allegiance.
It was something I would soon forget after I was told it was wrong
Taught a new way to introduce myself “mi nombre es” turned to “my name is” after the girl in my class told me she couldn’t understand me.
So I was taught to reject the language of my family and to be proud to call myself American over Mexican.
Now my Spanish 2 native class seems so god damn foriegn and I can't seem to remember what comes after domingo on my pop quiz.
I would learn to hate my name, much preferring something like Tiffany,
Leaving behind my silent TL and X that sounds like an S because they said it was strange.
When I visit my grandmother all I could do is nod or shake my head,
Because her native language sounds like a tongue twister I can't seem to master.
So she reminds me that the colors in my soul and the rhythm in my bones are blessings and that I come from the Incas, the Mayans, the Aztecs, los Mexicas, who built an empire nunca imaginado.
That we are a children of an oscuro pasado,
A mixture of pain, sadness and oppression,
But we inherited the strength.
We have inherited the passion.
She reminds me that my name holds the power of the most legendary Aztec princesses who ruled with the grace of the most beautiful flower.
So this is for the women that still name their children in nahuatl and the men who wake up on Sunday mornings to listen to Vicente Fernandez with their fathers,
And families that still pass on recipes of arroz con pollo.
Because we are the sons and the daughters,
And we hold the stories,
The journeys of the remembered,
Those who walked through deserts, waded through rivers.
We wear their legacies on our shoulders with pride,
And we do not lose ourselves to broken perceptions,
But rise above with the help of our powerful stories.
Our melodies, our galaxies,
Por que somos Latino-Americanos
And we will not be forgotten
It was Christmas time in Anansi’s house
But Anansi was snoring loud and deep
While all the house was up and busy
Sneaky Anansi was pretending to sleep
Anansi imagined lying on the beach
Soaking up some hot Jamaican sun
Christmas time with all its merriment
For Anansi was never, ever fun!
Poor Anansi - it’s such a crime
To not have fun at Christmas time!
Last year whist fixing the Christmas baubles
He was jumping up, extremely mad
Because all the baubles kept flying off
And the crooked angel looked very sad
When he tore off the wrapper from his gifts
He always hoped for a nice surprise
But every year his presents were the same
Eight pairs of socks and two colourful ties
Poor Anansi - the church bells’ chime
No fun for you this Christmas time!
And Christmas dinner was never enough
Because his wife entertained the whole town!
Cold scraps of dinner left on a plate
And a squeeze to find a spot to sit down
And playing party games was such a bore
Card games he never had the knack
Charades would leave him a little confused
Legs tangled with Twister or stuck on his back
Poor Anansi, you can bet a dime
No fun for you this Christmas-time
Never anything good to watch on TV
And the Queen spoke too posh and too slow
He didn’t even have a favourite book to read
Poor, poor Anansi with his Christmas woe
But there was just one thing about Christmas
That Anansi couldn’t wait to partake
Every Christmas his wife would prepare
The most delicious, scrumptious Christmas cake
Every year he sliced the biggest piece
Leaving his family to fight for the rest
Delicious, scrumptious with a scoop of ice-cream
This Christmas cake was always the best
Anansi made sure that everyone had gone
Before he scurried down for his Christmas treat
He looked in the oven, the cupboard the fridge
But couldn’t find any Christmas cake to eat
“Surprise,” said his wife from behind him
“We are having fruit salad for a change!”
Then she handed him a large Christmas bowl
Filled with tropical fruits of all range.
Poor Anansi - it’s such a crime
To have no cake at Christmas time!
To have no cake at Christmas time!
To have no cake at Christmas time!
Dear Lil sister. .
Hey pretty girl how you doing these days. How's life treating ya, hope it
hasn't been to cray. I noticed you were down, well how bout u talk to me. I
just wanna uplift ya, see you become who you were born to be. I know your
life has been crazy, Lord knows it to. But all those trials and tribulations
they won't break you. I know you hate that man from your past for touching
you the wrong way, you never told no one n it bothers you to dis day. It
created a dark cloud that covered your heart, now you have trust issues
can't tell the enemies apart. Night after night you pray to God for a fresh
start. Low self esteem, but baby your a work of art. Yeah i know you was
sad growing up without a father. As the years go by life seems to get harder.
I know you wanted that affection, the love you deserve as a daughter. Moma
tried her best but some things sh couldn't have taught ya. I know you wish he
told you, how beautiful you are over n over again. How all of your power
cums from deep within. Those weren't the cards you were dealt so you seek
refuge in other men. Trying to fill that void that has always been missing.
Now your in a situation and too scared to leave cause you think to yourself
nobody will ever love me for me. Countiuosly talking to yourself, and crying
secretly. But baby girl that's a lie I say differently. Your a daughter of a king,
so that makes you a princess. Your father hates to see you cry, that's why he
wants to give you his best. You are heirs of royalty don't u ever forget it. You
ARE victorious let me hear you admit it. Please baby girl don't be another
statistic this world wants to see down, so handle your business. Never follow
the crowd honey be independent. Cause when those checks come in, they'll
have a lot of digits. Always remember to remind yourself how beautiful you
are.I don’t care if your tall, short, white, black or covered in scars. Being
beautiful starts from the heart, so love yourself first. And always know that
the best comes after the worst. Hang in there hun, I know life's a twister. But
you can always count on me. Sincerely your big sister.
What a special time of year....
I,Santa and my minion of elves
making a gazillion toys for all
the giddy girls and boys.
Just what are some of the things they
will find under the tree? Let's see !!
Colorful cars that go vroom vroom
and twin engine planes that zoom.
Remote control trucks that
tumble around the room.Oh these
things simply can't come too soon!
There's the cute little doll house
with a canary canopy and the stocking
stuffed to the brim with sugar coated candy.
Oh my, what about the indestructable
tank with the turret that pivots or the
tried and true toolset equipped with
screwdrivers, pliers, hammer
and yes, even a rack of rivets.
I almost forgot about the long-legged dolls
with their fancy silk sweaters and dresses.
Oh how girls love those that talk or cry,
or ..... yes, even make little messes.
Then there are teddy bears,dolphins,
monkeys, ...stuffed animals of all kinds.
Oh, is it possible for the youngsters
to get these tantalizing toys out of their minds?
Chutes and Ladders,Candyland, Twister,
Guess Who, a smorgasboard of board games.
Oh yes, after this Christmas Day,
nothing could ever be the same.
Then there are cd's, dvd's,mp3s
you name it, even cell phones to call.
And no, that's certainly not all.
Catchers mitts, frisbees,yo-yo's or
better yet, a new leather basketball.
Robots, Light Bright,Spirograph,
we are busy making toys for tots.
And I don't think I need to tell you
No matter how you slice it... there's alot.
But I'm running out of time here you see
and there's no limit to what
can be found underneath the tree.
Every year Christmas provides a new story.
I know I hold a special place in
the hearts of people both young and old.
But I will be the first to admit
Christmas is not about me or what's
under the tree, but might I be so bold
as to say we must not forget that the real
Christmas story is all about love.
It starts and ends with the gift of Jesus
sent to us from His Father above.
For without that very "special delivery"
Christmas Day we wouldn't even celebrate.
No, as a matter of fact, December 25th
would simply be just an ordinary date.
Him
Beautiful - Handsome - Androgynous
Charismatic - Understanding - Unifying
Knows your pain...
Your desire to belong - Yearning
Want for something bigger
Your purpose... Meaning
He will fulfill all the desires of the faithful
The avarice... The political seekers... The powerful
The meek
The poor in spirit --- The elect
He knows God’s laws --- God’s word
Deep familiarity with Jesus
He brings light
Bears light
A new light --- A new way
Appeals to the minds of men
Curiosity
Carrying prophesy
Holiness in his left hand Deviance in the right
A magnet-To-Soul Iron filings
He is
Once disrobed
Much too late to recoil
The ultimate
Numerology master
Twister of wrong for right
The man of perdition
The
Antichrist
(c) 2025 Emily C, Archer
Cuba…Mamma Mia…like most of the Caribbean; part of the 1492 slam…
Slavery, sugar plantations… invasions, upheaval, independence…
Then the American kisses; with a slight twist…who initiated the ’disses’…?
Was it Blaine…is he insane…?
Was it Marti…the heart of the party…?
Or Teller…many say he was the real speller…
Or Estrada Palma…could he have been the calmer…?
Was it San Martin…any questions of his parting…?
Or was it Batista…is he the real twister…?
With his interwove of expansion…then stagnation and dissatisfaction…
Coupled with his increased economic regulation plan…
Was this the spike for the revolution…?
Enter Castro; was he the real maestro…his thoughts, his plans; communize the land…?
Centralize, non-democratize…ostracize, reorganize…
The politics…were they laden in tricks…?
The CIA; not here to stay… but what role did they play…?
When they realize the RAF size…what will they emphasize…?
With great plans to defeat…did they end in retreat…?
Now with Eisenhower…speculations of a great shower…
But after only months…fixation shift to ouster hunts…
Severed diplomatic relations…the new sensation…
Impositions of trade embargo…the ‘Fargo’ in my cargo…?
The ‘Bay of Pigs’…will you understand the gigs…?
The ‘Cuban Missile Crisis’…what was this Tri-fit…?
The military games…were these substances in flames…?
For a superpower war…or the everlasting scars…?
Of suppression, political persecution…migration, and interventions…
In Angola, and Ethiopia…from Nicaragua to North Africa…
To the Congo…to some say; ‘Jah Mek Yah’…?
Cooperation with Russia…was this the real crusher…?
The mid-eighties…the beginning of their ending gaiety’s…?
The dissolving of the Soviet Union…continuation of the country’s isolations…
Reduced rations…the new fashion…
Unpainted buildings…now the in-thing…
Old vehicles with limited repairs…any scares…?
Lack of electricity…did it colour the ethnicity…?
A country on the verge…is there a new urge…?
Tourist attraction…one logical concoction…
Amidst the flow…of system many Cubans know…
The US now attests…it is in the country’s interest…
Cuba has withstood the test…put the embargo to rest…?
Though thine two grown
former babes in crib age,
now lead checkered lives,
no longer monopolize my time
as though their persons went backstage
either one embracing, judging,
and negotiating positive
chutes and ladders with courage
evoking glee this papa
helped both beautiful lasses
avoid being risk averse
navigating life with minimal damage
though to get ahead of the class,
(asper the eldest Eden Liat)
credit karma fairly and squarely attributed
to herself with encourage
meant from this papa, who oft time
felt he lacked any clue
akin to a hobbled battleship left
to drift at sea, whence,
upon landfall sub
sequent lee forced to forage
in a foreign dominion (akin to being
among Settlers of Catan),
plus devoid of instruments to gauge,
an optimal strategic operation,
thus figuratively groping in the dark
(unaware of a brewing twister)
guided by blind faith
doth admit saying sorry,
but apologetic homage
would disqualify thyself,
a "FAKE" mastermind
undeserving of just desserts,
unfairly via diktat plucking sweet treats
awash within Candy Land,
a deceptive image
entrancing, luring and, spellbinding
ultimately incurring trouble,
particularly when Shana Aubrey
(younger by about
twenty six months)
garnered lion's share of parental attention
necessitated mandatory intervention
due to language
skills, plus pronounced
developmental delay,
where supreme social service
sages gentle massage
wrought divine prestidigitation
as one after another
case worker did overencourage
to counteract congenital
cognitive setback (coalesced in utero),
now finds das dada envious
(cuz, aye got mired, hogtied,
and bogged down with
obsessive compulsive trivial pursuit,
hence warrant so lucky as thee Punim)
steers ship shape body electric
round her uncharted cerebral
cape of good hope passage.
What knowledge do you have of my home?
Have you taken a walk through the cemetery?
Walking on my tracks, footprints of eternity.
Have you read about the deserts?
Thus roar, thus blow filth,
Have you, met the survivors?
Felt have you, their struggles?
In The dusts that destroy,
That whistled as they sizzled,
So you shouldn't be judging,
For you're senselessly irking me,
For a fool that I am not- is the fool that is you.
You believe in the reporter,
Who experienced little of a quarter,
Of the life he broadcasts,
You let the television fool you,
Have you walked the fine line?
Have you let hunger define you?
I did. Oh I did sweat in the dust,
Trekked through the cracks,
And I, stood face up with the sands,
So you shouldn't be judging,
For you're senselessly irritating me,
For a fool that I am not- is the fool that is you.
I breathed within a twister of dust,
So you wonder not of my eyes as they carry,
The memories of the old struggle,
So wonder not of my skin either,
As it bears the manuscript of my old life,
Yes I move immaculate, but do you know of my heart?
Let you not be fooled by my slenderness,
My strength far flows beyond my weight,
So I lift a whole continent with my pride,
And if I have to, I will put my life aside,
Just to fix a smile on mama Africa's face,
So you shouldn't be judging,
For you're senselessly irking me,
A fool that I am not- is the fool that is you,
Mama is beautiful, yet you only see,
As far as her horn, and the slums,
Where the strongest among us might've been born,
Yes mama is beautiful, yet you neglect to see her exquisiteness,
How could you go to my house,
To only document the cracks on my walls?
Couldn't you walk in to my living room'
And maybe peek in to my kitchen?
Thence you might see the beauty that is my home,
How long will you only look at,
Just the color of this book's exterior?
When will you ever walk in it,
To see the beautiful illustrations within?
So you shouldn't be judging,
For you're unreasonably riling me,
Cause the fool that I am not- is the fool that is you.