Long Appliances Poems
Long Appliances Poems. Below are the most popular long Appliances by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Appliances poems by poem length and keyword.
BEFORE THE TECHNOLOGY TOOK OVER.
How beautiful were those days
When tech had not touched us
To spoil our minds and hearts
When life was simple and plain
And ambitions too were not very rosy.
When poetry music and art
Use to inspire us to touch the sky
On the wings of our imagination
As then our dreams too were simple
And love use to empower our hearts
To swim across any deep ocean
While singing the songs of love.
When television had not snatched
Our leisure hours from everyone of us
And we use to dance and sing
On the call of heart touching tunes.
When mobiles had not spoiled our minds
While snatching from us,
Our peace of mind
When computers were a remote cry
And internet had not ruined the purity of minds.
When as children we use to enjoy the life
While playing the Gend Tadi* (throw balls)
Or even the Gilli Danda*
As they all use to fill us with a serene joy
Which the new technology has snatched
From our kids and younger generations.
How beautiful were those days
When we use to enjoy the company
Of human minds and hearts
Unlike the numerous appliances
Which we keep close to our hearts
instead of love, music and friendship.
The new generation would never know
The beauty of those precious joyous moments
Which used to embrace our hearts
And were the result of love and affection
Which always come from non tech things.
Ravindra K Kapoor
Kanpir India 29th Oct. 2016
Inspired poem from a Photo published by Julia Ward on face book.
* Indian village simple games which are played with the help of a rubber ball and two wooden made Gilli two side conical small rod and Danda ( a little bigger rod).
You lay sleeping, and I, awake, focus on you’re steady breathing in hopes it will lull me into at very least a meditative trance, if not actual sleep.
I stare into the blackness of the room, it’s expansiveness surprises me, intrigues me, then scares me, so I close my eyes blocking out the night. Rolling over I huddle into a ball and try to sleep. The electric hum of the household appliances fill the void, your occasional snores and snorts intersperse their melody. You lay sleeping, and I? I lay still resisting the urge to get up as I believe if I just lay still sleep will come, eventually.
You roll over and cuddle me. You lay sleeping, and I lay awake but happy wrapped in your arms, your knees snug up behind mine. I feel the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest and try to mirror it.
Slowly surly my eyes get heavy, the thoughts dissipate from my mind and I feel the heaviness of sleep being to over take me. BING, my phone intones from the living room. At first I ignore it, too tired and cozy to care, then I begin to wonder who it could be, and why. I have to know, and besides I’m thirsty, and I could pee.
You roll over, and I get up. You lay sleeping and I scroll mindless through my phone, the bright light making me squint so I put it aside.
“You ok”, I hear from the bedroom. “Yup”, I reply.
You instantly fall back into your easy slumber. I sit there in the darkness tired but awake.
I wish I could be you for just one night, sleeping so peacefully and easily.
How do you do it? Why can’t I?
You lay sleeping ….
Let me write one chapter of my life
A chapter that is free from brokeness
One word built upon another
That foundation word is agape love
Pity that some of the foundations laid remain
Amiss because the most important stone
A foundation stone from above was absent
That rock, brick, or cement block weakened
Nothing solid to hold it together just pile of stones
That is shaky or brick with no morter _ready to crumble
First little tremor or heavy rain and the rock moves
One and then another soon the safety net of home gone
Let the final chapter read the foundation repaired
The home saved looks better today than at anytime
Freshly painted, floors repaired, comes with all modern
Appliances, looks better than when it was built eons ago
(Used some metaphoric language with irregular meter)
(This is a fictional poem)
I was struck by lightning and now my body is electrified.
My body has tons of electricity inside.
I can power things just like a generator.
My wife is making me power all of her appliances and I really hate her.
She has her blender plugged into my nose and the oven plugged into my ###.
I cause a power surge whenever I pass gas.
She has the refrigerator and the toaster plugged into my ears.
Someone please help me, I can no longer stand it here.
This is very demeaning but she doesn't care how I feel.
I have to live in misery just so she won't have to pay an electric bill.
Form:
Buttocks push; breasts boast
through non-existent crowds.
A choreographed squall
above the whir and clunk
of loaded appliances.
Hispanic girls acting out
in a Laundromat.
Hips gesture, hands stab
and tussle with unwashed issues.
I’m distracted by the overheated hum,
can’t read the print
of my paperback. Words run
naked over yellow pages,
sweat and lay down
under a fierce fluorescence.
Skimpy shorts and gang-inks.
The porous sound of feral hormones
seethes over some slight,
branded onto a Facebook page.
They flop onto the slatted bench
produce a smart phone,
scroll through pictures,
moue and glower softening
as baby shots are thumbed.
Melting smiles, then
they hold up the cell for me to see.
When they get up
the backs of their thighs
are marked by the wooden seat.
Washing spins on.
oh hello-
my name is frigidair and I am
a (retro) refrigerator
for food
I have been in this apartment
since 1950
a nice kitchen but I cannot move
so not sure about
the rest
I am tall as a person
and a bit fat
a lovely creamy white
with drawers
(and an egg compartment)
and of course a freezer
I am restored a restoration
not quit an antique yet
but feeling my age
my father was general electric
and mother was pink
my sister was turquoise
free standing happily I hum
all day
and all night and sometimes I
clunk
I look crooked but that's the floor
I seem to be going
downhill
inside me are good things
like meat and poultry ice cream
milk eggs vegetables juice
fruit
please be careful with my door
oh some of my shelves are lopsided
(well that's old age)
and lets not talk about the cracks
but I still work
and some say I am quite appealing
I've aged well in this heritage building
or at least that is what
I heard (and the word vintage)
did I tell you they restored me
to be frost free
(they put me to sleep for that)
the girl likes that about me
I like it when she caresses me
with a wet damp clothe
she is quite proud
of me
and I like this room big and roomy
and the window
looks out on a lovely garden
that's so nice
and the little things the girl has
on counters so pretty (she is)
she always puts some flowers
by the sink for me oh how sweet
its really a good life for a refrigerator
although not sure how much time
I have left
(no regrets) and to all refrigerators
let me say keep cool and plugged in
__________________________
September 10, 2015
Free Verse Personification
For the contest, A Tribute To Major Appliances
Honorable Mention
Our house was built in 'sixty-eight,
a long bi-level, brick, and white.
A retro queen I was those days,
and avocado made it right.
The kitchen was my favored place –
appliances in "sixties" green;
refrigerator, matching stove,
completed well that retro scene.
For many years they lasted well -
and replaced once; the find was tough!
But later on, my luck ran out –
no avocado kitchen stuff.
The second fridge broke down one day;
a new one had to come real fast.
A plain old white one took its place,
and I was left distressed, aghast!
My retro strove looked lonely, sad
without its avocado mate;
Its matching fridge, now she was gone –
he knew this soon would be his fate.
Oh, how I miss those retro days!
Appliance colors were such fun!
That avocado cherished green
refridge and stove, compared to none!
Now stainless, white, is where it's at –
appliances, their brilliance lack.
Perhaps the pendulum will swing –
bring retro avocado back!
September 11, 2015
His knowledge was his untapped wellspring,
After 93 years of learning anew;
He valued knowing something about everything,
From construction & farming, to baseball & screws.
Early in life, a dairy farm taught him,
To think on his feet, with vast common sense;
Learning math at the sawmill, he estimated lumber,
And rebuilt old motors, appliances & fences.
For years he delivered, automobile parts,
To Tar Heel cities & Outer Banks towns;
Till one day, Wayne County rewarded his smarts,
With leadership to run, their buildings and grounds.
A Lion's Club/Odd Fellow—active for decades,
Making differences in the lives of many;
A loyal church member, a Jack of all trades,
Directing great efforts, that helped countless plenty!
Later in life, he started Smith’s Crafts,
With Logs that told Weather--Cow Clocks that told time;
Wrote a book on a bell, he loved to autograph,
Reading local history aloud, literary passion sublime!
His legacy is people, warm and loving,
Celebrating them in visits near and far;
Shelton Eugene Smith, Sr. a one-of-a-kind,
Honored by many, remembered by all!
(In honor & Memory of one of the world’s most fascinating men)
Times were hard in Grandma's day
No electrical appliances had she
A ringer washing machine for washing the clothes
And a whistling gas kettle for making the tea
No electric lighting
Just a lamp filled with gas
That's what I remember
When I was a lass
Kneeling down, scrubbing steps
And not just her own
With a bucket of hot water
And a block of donkey stone
I remember on a Tuesday
Grandma used to make
In a willow pattern bowl
A pineapple upside-down cake
Sunday was trifle day
With custard, cream and jelly
Then at twenty to four we'd settle down
To watch ‘The Golden Shot' on the telly
Grandma used to take washing in
For all the neighbours in the street
Then when it was clean and dry
I’d fold it in piles so neat
We were very poor
And didn’t have much to boast
But we were happier then than people are now
The ones who deserve the least have the most
In the still of the morning, before the sun has
shone her face,
Before the light reaches out and traces my familiar space,
Quietly I retreat, with meditative thoughts,
The gentle steady breath of our sleeping dog,
The murmur of appliances, running night and day,
Funny I don't notice, after the sun has pushed her way,
Nearing 6 a.m., quiet as can be, cherishing these moments
Grateful for the Sanctity.
January 11, 2017