Long Waylon Poems

Long Waylon Poems. Below are the most popular long Waylon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Waylon poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Male Slang Footle Names - final part

Always on the Road

Trucker
Tucker

Feed that guy

Bony
Tony

A Boy Scout Always Prepared

Ready
Teddy

He’ll Put You Away

Jailer
Taylor

At the Valentine Date Auction

Gimme
Timmy

Stay at Home Dad

Mommy
Tommy

Our Loan Shark

We owe
Tio

Swear to Him

Promise
Thomas

They Sure Need Improvement

Tanner’s
Manners

Head in the Clouds

Spacey
Tracy

Fibber

Liar
Tyler

Will you . . .

Marry
Terry?

Where is He Anyway?

John Doe
Waldo

Hey, Anyone . . .

You know
Udo?

Bon Voyage

Sail on,
Waylon

Do You . . .

Fancy
Yancy?

The Weirdo

Wiggy
Ziggy
boy
Form: Footle


Premium Member Aint Nuthin To Do In Lubbock Texas

Ain’t Nuthin To Do in Lubbock
By David J Walker

The Killer came to town 
Jerry lee Lewis and his pal
Jim Ed Brown 
Playin at the municipal coliseum
To a sell out crowd 
Payin up to 5 bucks 
Just to see ‘em playin loud
But…	that Ain’t Nuthin
Cause Asleep At The Wheel an
Jerry Jeff Walker  an The Mains Brothers,
Waylon n Willie and a lot of others
Includin Alvin Crow were still knocking em dead at
Back to back weekend shows 
At the Cotton Club 
While all the musicians in town 
went to see Stevie Ray V 
wailing on his fender
At Stubbs where Lou kept the BBQ ribs
And the cold beer comin 
Joe Ely was there being cool
playin pool 
tradin licks Jesse guitar Taylor 
And Some fool still says….
Ain’t nuthin to do in Lubbock
Form: Rhyme

Buddies

Old Hank, The Possum,
Waylon, Willie and Johnny C
Would join me in the bar
And sit and sing to me
Always taking a break as
I replaced each finished drink
Then on with the music so
I’d no chance to think.

At times there were others
But always those five
They lived in my mind
And helped me survive.
So many years ago
From my hazy past
Sometime somehow  
One drink was the last.

There are some debts 
I know I’ll never repay
I remember with thanks
Every time I hear them play.
One thing never changed 
Andr they’re still with me
Old Hank, The Possum, 
Waylon, Willie and Johnny C.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member City Country

How about a movie?
But first let's go to brunch
One or two mimosas
We can skip the lunch

Midtown at The Regal
Showtime is at 3:00
I have two first row tickets
For "Breakfast at Tiffany's"

I know it's one of your favorites
That's why I want to go
A day that's really special
Made just for you, you know?

After, a stroll through Central Park?
Let's people watch 'til it gets dark
And I may ask you on a lark

If it's okay to hold your hand
A horsedrawn carriage, a hot dog stand
No, that's not our dinner, first a band

I know the club for you and me
The Waylon is the place to be
Smokin' hot and all country

And after, when we've had our fill 
Of Manhattan club scene meets Nashville 

We'll find some late night bar and grill
And finally eat, relax, and chill

To be with you would be a thrill
I'll plan these things for you, I will

Someday, one day...until, until
Form: Rhyme

Jennings

(Dedicated to Waylon Jennings who died February 13, 2002.)

You were the balladeer in the movie 'Moon runners' that was made in the 
seventies.
Several years later you became the balladeer in the Dukes of Hazzard on TV.
You guest starred in an episode of Married with children sometime in the 
nineties.
You were a fantastic singer and I'm sure that most everyone agrees.
When you died, the music industry suffered a great loss.
You would've died in 1959 if you had won that coin toss.
Ritchie Valens won and he died in that plane crash instead of you.
You cheated death in 1959 but you weren't so lucky in 2002.
People loved you and they knew that you were a credit to the human race.
You were famous for years and now you're in a better place.
Form:


Premium Member Country Isn'T Country Anymore

Country isn't country anymore
Every time I listen, I get a little sore
They forgot about the trains
Mama's eyes and summer rains
Daddy's hands and growing pains
Country isn't country anymore
Now they still wear hats and cowboy boots
But they are no longer holding to their roots
They are getting it all wrong
It's just not a country song
We all can't sing along
Country isn't country anymore.
Let me hear Hank sing Your Cheatin' Heart
Kris and Johnny can tear your soul apart
A sad song can make you cry
Drink all night and say goodbye
She's gone, I wonder why
Country isn't country anymore
Patsy, Merle and Waylon are all gone
There's not too many left to carry on
The sound of a steel guitar
Sawdust and a rowdy bar
Where an outlaw is a star
Country isn't country anymore
Form: Couplet

Leaning On the Lamp Post of My Dreams

Cossack Cowboys
Riding Llamas
That they dress
In pink pajamas
Teeny boppers
Blowing bubbles
Biker chicks
Causing trouble
Nuns in Habits
Punks in chains
One or two
Of the deranged
Rubbing Buddha belly
Cravers
And the band
Harvey Danger
David Bowie
Elton John
Both of them
With Spacesuits on
Vegetarians 
Eating chicken
Love it fried
Finger licking
In a line to 
Meet and greet Obama
Now I wish
I'd brought my Mama
On the T.V. 
Slicing, Dicing
Infomercials
Are enlightening
Lindsey Lohan
There's more trouble
Send the Police
On the double
Michael Jackson
With his monkey
Chandelier
Swinging junkies
Bottle Rocket 
Ridding crickets
Dolly Parton 
Doing dishes
Tubs of Crisco 
Set for wrestling 
Bee Gees do be 
Disco dancing
With Bruce Jenner 
Wearing makeup
Dolly's kitchen 
Filled with soap suds
Rubber band
Bumper babies
Call me odd
Don't call me crazy
Shooting stars
Carry Uzis
Washed up stars
Drink beer in Koozies
Donnie Osmond
Singing show tunes
As Marie blows 
Animal balloons
Circus Barkers
And their Minions
Waylon left us
Shooter Jennings
Heidi Klum
Without makeup
To say the least
She looks a bit rough
American flags
As rainbow banners
Peal, scratch, and sniff
Talking bananas
Hookha smoking
Manatees
Oh yea...
and then there's me
These are just a few of the things that lean
On the lamp post of my dreams
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member In Collaboration With the Stars At the Claremont Resort, Health Spa, and Tennis Club

Bay area's crown jewel, The Claremont,
Where age 24 Steve Jobs and I talked,
Well, him--as to the future--I was shocked,
The guy aimed high, humble, who want for naught.

An unscheduled stop by a young Prince Charles,
That shook the hands of this Hawaiian kid.
Isabel Sanford's inebriated,
Big Head for A. M. Talk Show With The Stars.

The moment when Chris Kristofferson and,
Geraldo Rivera stuck in the lift,
Then there's Joan Baez mom, a bit of a rift,
Some more late check-in, Waylon Jennings band.

The resort, like San Francisco, midway,
Pearls in an oyster, San Francisco Bay.

***Same hotel where the late Ricky Nelson band stayed with wife Kristin who's actor Mark Harmon(--sister) from the show NCIS, who also visited there, whereto, I have already submitted a sonnet.



Date: 08/26/2019
Form: Sonnet

Come On Over Saturday Night

Some fried chicken and fried potatoes,
pot full of beans, and sliced tomatoes.
I hear catfish sizzling in hot oil,
and some fresh picked corn waiting to boil.

Old folks sit at the big oak table,
kids sit down wherever they’re able.
There’s fresh churned butter and sweet cornbread, 
enough food to keep an army fed.

After supper and the dishes done,
we head on outside to start the fun.
Children chasing the fireflies and bugs,
men drinking some shine from old stone jugs.

Making ice cream by turning the churn,
each little kid waiting for their turn.
Old folks rocking in their rocking chairs,
kids sitting around on the porch stairs.

Well daddy plays a mean guitar beat,
you wanna get up and move your feet.
Then he’ll softly strum on that six string.
while grandma and momma start to sing.

Grandpa’s up and he’s raring to go,
stomping his feet and giving a show. 
Dancing line forms over on the right,
can’t beat another Saturday night.

 
After the kids have been put to bed,
moonshine still filling the old folk’s head.
They sit back telling tales of back when,
and wishing they could be young again.

Me and you’ll sneak down to the creek bank,
listen to Waylon, Willie, and Hank.
We’ll lay on our backs and watch the stars,
talking of how we’ll make this world ours.

We’ll snuggle under the full lit moon,
and let nature play its gentle tune.
Everything is gonna feel all right,
when you come over Saturday night.
Form: Rhyme

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