Long William tell Poems

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


Blue Yodel

He was the Yodelling King of Whitby.
On a calm clear weather day
You could hear his practice yodels
On the cliffs at Robin Hoods bay.

He would stand there at the bar
In his Tyrolean feathered hat
With dark brown lederhosen,
Black cloak thrown over that,
To hold then all enraptured
When he got up on that stage
Setting female hearts a beating
No matter what their age.
His repertoire so varied, 
From classical to rap,
With the occasional dance,
Sometimes breaking into tap.

Booked at the Alhambra Bradford
He attracted audience motley
All of his dedicated fan club
Some from as far away as Otley.
Then he strode on that stage
And his throat suddenly dried 
And on the brink of stardom
His career withered and died.
They still talk of it in Eccleshill,
Bowling, Idle, even Runswick Bay
And many a tear is still shed
About  that fateful fateful day.

He’s still Yodelling King of Whitby,
Still holds the pub under his spell
Particularly performing his finale
Of excerpts from William Tell.
Stardom no longer beckons 
It’s lustrous lure dispelled
By the hurtful memory of
That Bradford performers hell.

Some times in his cups
It really gets his goat:
Yodelling King of the World maybe
But for the drying of his throat.
Form: Rhyme


Paler Than A Phantom

My credit card has
an outstanding balance,
I'm tired of paying
interest and fees;
can somebody bail me out, please!
My woes are getting
deeper than madness,
I'm spinning
in a frantic dance,
while nightmares are getting worse!

I'm paler than a phantom
in a Broadway play,
I am an ordinary guy
in a plaid shirt and faded jeans:
I go unnoticed by everyone
looking so pretty,
and through this chaos
of mundanity, I avoid grins!

I rubbed Aladdin's lamp and waited,
nothing happened;
I wondered if he had invented
this alluring fairy tale
for his own selfish greed!
I'm better than William Tell,
I can shoot an apple
from yards away;
didn't David hit Goliath in the skull? 
with a stone, I applaud his bravery;
He saved many lives
and avoided a windfall!

My soup is all broth
without a single pea,
bees buzz, they smell
honey in my hot tea;
at least, I have something
to keep me busy,
I catch them with a net,
they'd love to bite me!
It's a great distraction 
from headache and worry!

I'm paler than a phantom
in a Broadawy play,
I've bought a ticket
to drift away
in that swift crowd 
that's so unfriendly and rude;
yum! I smell hot dogs
roasting, I'm wowed!

I'm paler than a phantom
in a Broadway play,
my pockets are empty;
all I got is my freedom,
my pockets are empty:
home is only blocks away!
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Cell Phones

I reckon I've seen about everything in my nigh four-score years.
Obnoxious teens, obnoxious elders and unpleasant Wall-Mart cashiers,
And those baggy pants with the crotch nearly reaching to the knees,
But folks with a cell phone in their ear compare to none of these!

Some people sport spiked hair dyed orange, red or green.
Others with rings piercing their lips - a weird sight to be seen!
Gorgeous ladies flaunt tacky tattoos that seem mighty *****.
Plus all of that, they have a cell phone glued to the ear!

Vexatious ringtones on some cellular phones cause me to cringe,
'Specially if in a fine bistro or church my serenity they impinge!
The "William Tell Overture" in a concert is mighty fine to hear,
But please spare me that tinny tune from the cell phone in your ear!

Some use their cell phones while driving - to all others oblivious,
Never minding that such inattention could be very injurious!
Seems to me 'twould be tricky trying to concentrate and steer,
With that consarned cellular phone sticking in the ear!

Cell phones are an improvement in communications, I suppose,
With their music, cameras, computers and a dial that glows.
But, alas, for future generations I often wonder and fear:
Will babes be born with a cell phone protruding from the ear?

Entry for Simon Rogerson's "Let's Explore Digital Technology" Contest
(13 Feb 22)
Form: Rhyme

The Executioner As Scrambled Humorist

within the under belly of
this hob bull ling Leviathan beast
induced roaring hungry soundcloud issued
within abdominal folds
finding they in creased

never diminishing, matter
whether I turn north, south, west or east
this adult desired,
soon after he envisioned
buttered crispy dish eyed fancily feast
culinary cut throat Michelin meisters
(pit a less lee) pitted
against Pillsbury doughboy greased
imaginatively gobbling hectare
thousand island inlaid
juiced kickstarting least

unable to pay thee Monsieur's consigliere –
damn, hard cold cash just shy by a nickle
aye first taken got taken hostage
as a wreck loose poet,
the anti write cadre
strip searched
every stitch of clothes I wore,
then subjected me to an aye tip pickle
pun hush ment,

where this deplorable basket case
stood aghast as hounds from hell
got loosed by thee Don Rickle
lathered canine chops
slapped by foamy salivating tongues
poised to ham er and

make mince meat out this pop sickle
but...lo and behold, as vicious
snooping doggy dogs
approached within a hair breadth
minecrafted fingers fluttered
in the air asper ready to tickle

whereat the snarling killers (bon jove)
rolled with faux pas in the air
kicking, laughing (or a similar
fox simile thereof),
inciting Major Domo tuff flair
his nostrils (like...well
an amazing dragon)

with blood red eyes didst glare
while fur sprouted over his bare skin
honor ably dispelling every last hair
which bizarre circumstance, an opportunity
to escape from this thieving Magpie lair

approved by the ghost of Rossini,
who suddenly prestidigitatiously
magically brought to my defense William Tell
(in the guise oven
instant activating App) pull lick caisson
thus juiced by a whisker avoiding a scare.

Perhaps the realm where dormant ideas germinate
will coalesce into sturdy tomes even if posthumously late
recognition gets affianced with a memorialized slate
where no body will lie,
cuz this mortal will get his ashes sprinkled
intermixed with wildlife,

who will unknowingly consecrate and sanctify
rack and pinion traction, 
where dost dust will fertile lies
to become reincarnated
via blessings sans creatures who defecate or urinate.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Bit of Humour To Kick Start the Week

FRED THE PERV.

Kinky Fred stole knickers off the line
One summer night his haul totalled nine
His spree ended in tears
Got an extra ten years
When Judge Sue said that red pair were mine.

LARS.

A young astronaut from NASA called Lars
Blasted off from Cape Kennedy to Mars
But then there was a glitch 
When he pressed the wrong switch
Last seen heading at warp speed to the stars.

 PETE.

A young pianist from New York called Pete
Could play William Tell using his feet
But he fell of his chair
And he started to swear 
Was booed off and thrown into the street.

JOHNNY GABLE.

A mean old waiter called Johnny Gable
Saw a man choke to death on a bagel
He then shifted his body
To the side of the lobby
Said forgive me but we need the table .

O'TOOLE.

A forgetful pilot Johnny O'Toole
Was over the north sea flying to Bule
Then both engines spluttered
Under his breath muttered
Looked at his gauge and screamed no ruddy fuel.

OLD GANGSTER.

An old gangster rose from rags to riches 
Got rid of all his traitors and snitches
They'd find in their bed
A racehorses head
Or find themselves sleeping with the fishes.

THE BAKER.

An unwashed old baker from Idaho
Had filthy fingers when kneeding the dough
Folk choked on his paella
Some died from salmonella
Got closed down and ended up on skid row.

O'KEEFE.

A fella by the name of O'Keefe 
Was the long serving town's police chief 
Someone stole the mess cookies
Everyone blamed the rookies
But it turned out O'Keefe was the thief.

AMOUROUS MICHAEL.

Amourous young Michael from Mayo 
At a girls house he tried to stayo
She started to shouto
And then kicked him outo
Said she" you're not staying no wayo."

NIGERIAN POEM THIEF.

A sly poem thief from Nigeria
On the soup caused a mass hysteria
He stole soupers work
Soupers went beserk
On the run now cos he's in fear of ya.




Written 18th august 2019.
Form: Limerick


Premium Member Straightforward Othering Kh

"Plain women know more about men than beautiful ones do."

                                                             Katherine Hepburn


Beauty in the mind of the beholder

Labelling prejudice masks of projection

Cursive weaving loops of adornment


          Venus hidden under Mona Lisa’s smile

               Mirror mirror on the cat walk’s wall

                    I know nothing but that I know well


Narcissus marvels in the golden pond

A snake slithers from an apple tree

William Tell shoots again from the hip


          Marilyn shows off curves of delight

	       Bows to a cross of enchantment

	            Takes another sniff of cocaine


Hepburn revels in passing Morning Glory

Seduces independence unveils her charm

Stakes claim on Goddess of smashing seduction


          When the looking glass shatters to pieces

	       Burrows wrinkles deep in the face of time

	            Cinderella throws a shoe at the image 


A crossdresser debunks devouring myths of fatal femmes

Hermaphrodite mounts a quick challenge on Trojan horses

And after all its a plain man’s ride in a beautiful world


          No serenade and no rodeo when Juliet receives

	       Romeo disguised as a bank clark from hell

	            Counts his losses when costumes fall short


And yet we classify the beast and its false allure

When instead we are better advised to take value

From upright meaning without mascara and shadows


          The scribe challenges such categorization

	       Dips his nib into a fountain of truth and

	            Chuckles when lip sticks kiss true virtue



03rd January 2020

Abnormality

Abnormality

God knows I don’t want to be normal
I want to stick out in a crowd
You have everyone look at me
And have them ask, “what in the hell is that”
I never want to wear a suit and tie
I want to go out in short pants and a muscle shirt
Black in color with a big dragon head on the front
I want to go into Macca’s and order a Whopper
And drink a forty year old New Coke
While eating a whole case of Twinkies
I never want to comb my hair or trim my beard
I want to wear glasses Elton John would turn down
I want to listen to the William Tell Overture
With lyrics added from Vanilla Ice
Maybe drive the wrong way on the freeway
Or hitchhike in the middle of the road
God knows I don’t want to be normal
I just want to be me
With all my quirks and strangeness 
So accept me for who I am
Because I am not going to ever change
No matter who or what
I will always be the best me I can be

Some of us have secrets - William Tell



"Some of us have secrets – William Tell." 

Some of us have secrets. 
Well, we all have secrets, William Tell. 
We sweep them under the carpet, 
or trade, for better things. 

Some things we exchange, 
they see us captured and seized,
canaries singing in gilded cages, 
well, some not so gilded;

some are chirping up 
an opera, orchestra vulgate,
the percussion, 
rattled and deceased.

We pretend to live in golden ages
the buried deep inside us - we, 
claw a way out of the hidden 
musty mausoleums

haunting 
all
the poetique 
people.

The external jest,
they love it all, 
they smother us
in their velvet words,

or drown us in 
a baptismal tide 
of touch and tell, bugs,
truth or dare, 

a looney tunes overture.

Some of us have secrets. 
Well, we all have secrets. 
We sweep them under the carpet, or trade,
for better things. 

The Apple plucked from the tree
like a story, before bitten, 
placed on a head
stood against a wall

William Tell

for better things

(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Ring

I rested my eyes and I heard a bell ringing
I wondered what this afternoon might be bringing
I gathered my wits and peered out through the blind
Frankly, intrigued to know what I might find

There’s children stood there and they look so unruly 
I sense that they’ve all got it in for yours truly
I think to myself with a shortage of mirth
The lot of them should have been throttled at birth

That bell is still ringing, it’s donging and dinging
I’ve got a sore head and my eardrums are stinging
And would you believe that those kids are now squealing
You’re likely to find me soon… clung to the ceiling

Will somebody please silence that flaming bell
I so want a crossbow like William Tell 
I feel myself shaken and then shaken faster
Then… “Lunch time is over; please wake up, Headmaster.”
Form: Rhyme

Paler Than A Phantom

My credit card has an outstanding balance,
I'm tired of paying interest and fees,
can  somebody bail me out, please
my woes are getting deeper than madness 
I'm spinning in a frantic dance 
while my nightmares are getting worse! 

I'm paler than a photom in a Broadway play,
an ordinary guy in a plain shirt and faded jeans,
I go unnoticed by everyone, looking preppy;
and through this chaos of mundanity, I avoid grins! 

I robbed Aladdin's lamp and waited,
nothing happened, I wondered
if he invented this alluring fairy tale
to make magic for his greed; 
I'm much  better than William Tell,
I can shoot an apple from yards away!
Didn't David hit Goliath in the skull
with a stone, I admire his audacity:
he saved lives and avoided a windfall!

My soup is all broth without a single pea,
bees buzz, they smell honey in my hot tea,
at least, I have something to keep me busy.
I catch them with a net, ah, they'd love to bite me!
It's a distraction from my headache and worry!

I'm paler than a phantom in a Broadway Play,
I bought a ticket and decided to drift away
in this swift crowd that's unfriendly, restless, and rude,
yum, food stands smell of hot dogs roasting, I'm wowed! 

Holy crap, I'm paler than a photom in a Broadway Play,
my pockets are empty, home is only a few blocks away!
Form: Lyric

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