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.
Life has no physical form or shape. Life is an essence we all calculate
We calculate our days by looking at a calender to see
What month, day or year were at.
Days go by quickly sometimes we lose track of what day it is
We keep track of time my wearing watches on our wrist.
By keeping a few clocks around the house.
A clock can be placed on a wall, Near your bed
You can also see what time it is when you look at a microwave
When you take a glance at the stove.
Clocks tell time in most appliances or devices we have or possess.
There's no excuse to lose track of time unless
There's no clock to let you know what time it is.
A motionless moment which exists within a timeline.
A timeline full of dates and numbers
Sometimes I attempt to view my timeline within Facebook
Just to speculate how much time as gone by
There are times I browse through my yearbooks.
Once in a while I grab a yearbook I have stored away
Just to go back in time and remember all those beautiful times
Times where I shared with friends and classmates
I sometimes ask myself what has happened to them
Where can they be in life?
Do they still live in the same hometown or have they moved away to another state or possibly another country perhaps.
Some get married and eventually have kids
Others stay single and roam around freely
Some become single parents raising children on their own
Some become homeless because they struggle with life.
Some cannot cope with life so eventually they end up leaving a little early.
Eventually within time those are the people we most miss.
Others get successful careers and live an extrodenary life.
Sometimes we have high school reunions every ten years.
Thats where we catch up on classmates whereabouts.
Whereabouts which were unseen to foresee
I ask myself will I stay in the same place or leave somewhere else
A timeline created by humanity. The race of a special species called human beings. Everything exists within time a given moment.
A particular numerical moment existing in methodical order.
Everything occurs within an illusion of beauty.
The time we all try to pursue with excessive speed.
When we push into unexpected situations, historical events within life changes within an unexpected manner.
Only humans have the power to change their timeline events.
Events which occur in proper order.
Years P.M. (Pre-MacDonald's).
Woolworths. Huge chain. (Chains break with age.)
Elevated trains. All over New York.
Five and Dimes. That was what you paid.
Ceaserian birth. In Rome?
10 cent comic books.
10 cent ice cream cones with sprinkles.
Big finned cars.
No such thing as a Pizzeria. Only certain taverns. Delivery? You nuts?
Butcher shops. Merkel Meats, etc.
Divorce? Who?
Dirt sidewalks in Queens.
No such thing as a driveway.
Tab cola (ugh!)
Old 7 oz. Coke bottles. Never tasted the same after.
Personal memories- My two cousins and I clad the entire basement in aluminum
foil- to make a "ice-cave" jam stage. Lots'a money, lots of hours.
Cesspools.
Coal furnaces. Pot belly stove in kitchen.
Family, seemingly demented, all piling in car to park right behind an Idlewild
runway take-off spot. Oh, the ears!
Jet crash at idlewild- we wound up driving through the debris field. Awful.
The 15 year old girl next door stabbed 7 times in her bed mid night. Who?
The first color tv sets early 60's- 2 choices, green tinted or purple tinted.
Saddly, this had to be butchered cause it ran too long..will be reworked another
day..
Queen For a Day. How pathetic!
Mickey Mouse Club.
Daniel boone coonskin caps.
Huge pool table in basement- played daily for years.
1956 chevy family sedan my Dad put a "Flattery" sign name on. Often asked,
why? Cause "Flattery will get you nowhere!" he'd quip.
Tools his favorite gift.
The wonders of Christmas, Thanksgiving, 6 o'clock family diners every night.
Always with mashed potatoes. (50 pound bag in pantry)- livin cheap.
My Dad never made $200 a week in salary- all his life. Lived on delivery tips and
his wits (reselling take-away appliances when he delivered).
We never had to pay for appliances because of his job.
Warm family love- unbroken- never a parent argument. Never.
No heat upstairs in our kid's bedrooms.
What's a shower? Old claw legged porcelain tub.
A 5 flowered vine livinroom chandelier of brass. worth a fortune now, if owned.
Sliding paneled doors.
Running to greet my dad when he got home each night during "Popeye".
Fried Liver. UGH!!
Smiles...
A childhood of pure wonder!!
Oh if all today's kids could be so lucky!!
Ah, the great American food mind!
Nobody else could ever make such a find...
The American "Red Hot", or HotDog..
A national tradition...
Superb in every edition....
But my son and I,
When to the movies we went,
Had a hotdog, and money was well spent...
Why can't we make Hot Dogs like these?
If they asked, to find out,
I'd fall on my knees...
Tried every brand...but just
not quite right...
So I stewed it over, and went
on my way...
Until one fateful day...
I came across kitchen appliances
on sale...
I don't need none...wait! Did I
forget the bun?....
And somehow I found special
hot dog makers...
I'd seen them many times before,
But never in an appliance store...
Roasters, steamers, spits and lots more...
I ain't got no clue,
What most are for....
Then I remembered the movie show,
And suddenly, Eureka!, I did know!
They had those odd machines,
Automatically turning hot dogs,
on little rollers...I said, wow!
Gotta get one of them!!
Found them on line,
And I espied their great cost...
$500 bucks minimum,
of course...
What the hell, ya only live once...
So I ordered one up....
While I sipped on my cup....
It soon came,
and Amazing it was!!
Much better than I'd hoped...
but yet, still just a little something off...
I thought to myself, I gotta figure this out...
Went to the store,
Plastic pulled out...
23 types of mustard, relish and such,
Three different buns,
different in shape, size,
and touch....
And now, every brand of hot dog in the store...
Had to be twenty or more!...
It took me some time,
But when I was done,
I knew he right mustard,
I knew the right bun!...
The band came over to play that night...
I served everyone hotdogs,
It was so out of sight!!
Well it took lots'a time,
and money too...
But soon enough,
Everyone knew....
You needed Hebrew National Franks,
Though their cost was so dear...
But after these investments,
I had little to fear...
So from then on,
it was Coney Island in Queens..
I was the hot dog king...
Nothing else meant a thing!!
So if you need a real tasty dog,
Come see me here,
Where I'm high on the hog,...
And for a mere five bucks,
you can have a dog...
And say "Oh Shucks!"
I have no idea how on earth i got here
I am a prisoner in a phantom prison of fear
I wish to escape and live my life a fugitive
But the warden watches me and i can never leave
My heart once whole is in pieces like a pizza
And its so cold as if my chest cavity is a freezer
I always thought as long as the sky remains blue
That there will be someone who will always love me true
But I am here alone, the dead end of all dead ends
Gossiping with ghosts, my only true friends
Standing in confusion at the crossroads of darkness
Shivering from this bitter winter that whirls with madness
I am a puppet with too many string attached
They treat me like an object, neither born nor hatched
Made to break my back, the inevitable daily bread toil
Earth is a title of deeds, and i own not a speck of soil
The world is still at war, super powers and alliances
Selling you currencies and electronic home appliances
In the name of technology you have to pay your bills
In the name of good health, you have to take your pills
I grew up innocently fast, a wide-eyed young fella
Clumsily surfing the modern tides, era of the bachelor
Television and movies; social media and smart phones
Heartbreaks and divorces; mortgages and quick loans
Made to believe I could be anything I wanted
Only to be made sleepless as my mind is haunted
By unfulfilled dreams and never-ending bankruptcy
Dog eat dog world still, deeper bites and lesser mercy
Every morning am washed ashore, to play again the same role
To drag my feet through mud as I try to reach a landlocked goal
They program me with no progress, no happy day i see
My fruitless efforts entertain them; the powers that be
Am always trying to catch the bus, while age tries to catch me too
Am getting worn out every year, just like my fake-leather shoe
All the struggling and running is in vain, it winds up down one place
The grave is soon to have me, whether i slow or quicken my pace
I will never be happy, life tastes worse than a plain meal with no spices
Am set like a bomb, about to go off in my midlife crisis
Luck is a poor man who in this world was never born
"Life is a gift!", whoever said that is a con
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
Peace is though difficult
Yet not impossible to uphold,
All the kings of the states
Must remain self-concerned,
Without poking noses
Into the affairs of others,
Curbing cupidity
To expand the territories,
Subjugate the nations of the world,
Enforce the so-called personal visions,
And put the humanity
Into new-fangled trials.
All the weapons
Latest, conventional or primitive,
Precious or utterly worthless,
Nuclear or less potential
Made of common explosives,
Be spoiled,
Be thrown into the deep waters
Of the unexplored seas,
Wherefrom no devilish character
Could ransack them back.
When some is killed
Neither Hindu, nor Muslim,
Neither Christian nor Jew is killed,
But a man: a child of Adam and Eve,
The same red substance
Pours out of his injured ragged body,
And it pains me.
All the weapon producing units,
And the blood spattering gadgets:
The tanks and cannons,
Mortars or machines guns,
The armadas
With the squadrons of fighter-jets,
Submarines that navigate
Secretly chase the nautical targets,
Catapults and all the missiles launching frames,
Be thrown into furnaces
To be remodelled and redesigned
Into of the earth moving machinery,
Instead of the appliances
Colouring the Earth red.
All the medals or symbols
Of chivalry be taken back,
Combatants and men
With the crowned shoulders,
And medalled chests,
Who often move in the battle-fields
Puffed with the martial pride,
Imparting, rendering
No service to humanity
Be employed to plough the lands,
Plant the gardens,
Make the dams and reservoirs of water,
Feed the cattle and get them milked on time,
Engaged them
To perform some rewarding assignments.
Upon the earth,
There must not be a single
Blood-claiming weapon;
If men are incensed
And fight is unavoidable,
They must fight with knives and rapiers,
Swords and shields made of gossamer,
All the time heeding
Lest they should break;
And all inhabitants of the world
At least once a day must trim their nails,
Lest when they are indignant
And resentful should scratch
The skin of fellow beings or their own.
Form:
Tick...Tock...Tick...Tock...
(Aye apologize for straying way
outside thee usual canon -
a poetic souffle,
boot desperation
finds me cent less,
Thus i pray
for divine intercession, this may
day call sent out, far
chump change moo nay
(near zero dollars
in checking account)
this near crack 'o dawn
to rescue me - okay?
----------------------------------
aye yie yie,
aye ham awake
at two o'cock
in the morning
ye yie yie,
aye ham awake
at three o'cock
in the morning
ye yie yie,
aye ham awake
at four o'cock
in the morning
keenly aware of major
appliances conversing ad-hoc
no doubt conspiring to sock
this dirt poor dada
directly in ma keister,
where i take flight
amidst a flock
of seagulls honking
at my unintentional
"FAKE" chutzpah to block
their instinctual migratory path
from swift tailored kick
in the buttock
as iterated above
from energy guzzling
electricity trapping shock
king lee vengeful
Peco powered accouterments,
whence this air
born papa chock
full of anxiety, asper
no where to
turn and jock
key for getting,
perhaps stealing myself
as a stowaway aboard
an unattended ship at dock
or as a las resort resort
to a life of crime
with deliberate intent,
where "the fuzz"
take me to lock
up, no way most certainly
not a place
to sing sing about,
and most likely end up
a scape goat kid
ding lee bullied a knock
on me noggin will
find me seeing mock
believe stars, which warrants
emergency medical
treatment by "Spock"
of star trek fame, whose
Vulcan antidotes wok
like a charm and find me
well on the Scottish peck
road less traveled,
which sends me Bach
to the future,
where i encounter
my pluperfect self
(barely recognizable
richly adorned other self),
with many a golden lock
compared to mine limp hair
resembling plastered schlock.
Every man loves to stare at appliances because they feel it’s so fun,
I actually saw a beautiful oven that I really don’t want to share with anyone!
You see, with this oven you’ll find it to be so exquisite and unique,
And I know placing my bread stick inside this oven would be a wonderful treat!
This oven gives off so much heat that there is no need for a timer,
And there are no fancy name brands makers for this oven it is created by Vagina,
Whenever cooking with this oven I love to keep the doors opened up wide,
And this oven is known to buck and shake so you got to be strapped in for the ride.
This oven is built strong and once inside you’ll notice it’s pretty wide and deep,
Once my bread stick feels the heat from this oven it will instantaneously reach its peak,
Some people might find this weird but I like it when the oven makes its noise,
That means the heat is so high that the pleasure is being fulfill with joy!
Whenever this oven is outside of its box it definitely would get all the looks,
But inside this oven is the only place that I want my break stick to be cooked!
And of course it matters for the oven to be kept clean before every use,
I’ll like to get a little rough with this oven but not to the point of damage by causing abuse.
This oven is so special that you can gain access to it from both sides,
Of course there is the front door entrance but the back door is something I’ll like to try,
You can look into this oven and see that the maintenance has been well kept,
And once the linings around the oven become warm the entire oven becomes soaking wet!
This oven is so perfect and unique that it would be difficult for others to find,
I’ve been staring at the outer box for awhile but I’m craving to make this oven mines!
The dough has risen and my bread stick is now ready to be cook and get shoved in,
I just hope that I can gain access soon to this appealing, charming, and enchanting oven!
“The heat has risen so I believe its now time to cook within the Oven”
Form:
whilst perusing the gallery o’ conditioners of
air,
a hand comes flying up toward him,
insistently shaking & uttering the man’s name
as if he is supposed to remember---
“john doe here, how are you?” remarks the man,
a salesman with tag on shirt,
quick on the chase of a prospective customer over
their way from the appliances to the
big screen TVs &
a bit bewildered, looking up to recall the face
possibly, a face to match a name already said &
suddenly the man being handshaked
remembers this guy from his
teenage years---
the man had flowing red hair back then,
said his brother was a supermodel &
no doubt, he had gotten the residual ladies as a
result,
heard back then that he had a great romance with
Lucy who went Swimming quite a bit in north
Dakota &
though his hair had been shaved, he was still
that tall skinny red haired guy whose eyes bulged
out of his head, regardless of how what kind of
chemicals his mind was racing with
at any given time---
but he saw the look in the handshaked, vaguely
remembering guy’s face,
something of an anti-social behavior,
something in the way of “i don’t really give a
flying ****,”
and he retracted into a place of insecurity---
the handshaked man doing his best to be polite
remarked,
“hey, how’s it goin’?” &
the skinny red haired john doe said with
embarrassment, “i’m selling appliances---
but that’s not what i’m really doing. i mean,
i’m working on something---going to school,
gonna work in forestry---yeah, that’s what i
want to do.”
so the handshaked man nodded & smiled,
said “sounds good”---
being cut off by the john doe---
“are you gonna be around the store for a bit?”
sick of the whole situation &
not wanting to reminisce about times that
hold absolutely no significance whatsoever anymore,
the handshaked man declined &
as he walked out of the store
he wondered just why someone would flail themselves on
a person from the past,
only to retract in embarrassment,
before even finding out just what it is that
the other party was doing with their own life.
Mere Minutes Into May Sixth, 2019
Heron entombed within b44 man cave
at Highland Manor Apartments sitting
in catbird seat after shower and shave
attuned to silence permeating airwave
wondering what comprises silence music
to these keenly attuned ears as agave
tastes sweet on tongue curious just now
if those hard of hearing or deaf crave
distinct absence, albeit low toned hum,
sans various appliances buzzing this knave,
who relishes solitude and absolute quiet
though this facility, most appeal aye rave
constitutes very minimal cost courtesy
rental assistance, which provides us to save,
(that plural includes missus) feels a slave
hidebound to maintain tidiness, lest we
find ourselves homeless prospect I stave
off (just barely), analogous keeping wild
animal at bay, though grim prospect suave,
and debonair "FAKE" facade I don trumpet
merely self employed to distract grim fate,
which loomed large months few months gone
necessitated third automotive, repair spate
chilly linkedin (racking ma pinion), asper our
2009 Hyundai Sonata (sedan) original parts
(battery included) amazingly last years behave
ving admirably despite slew of upkeep sending
checking account into intensive care, a grave
situation kickstarting precarious mental health
(amazing how being penniless - dirt poor) brave
driver cannot withstand blistering maintenance
costs sustaining car, more money versus engrave
van tombstone, and more painful experiencing
a negative checking account balance, thus fave
veering disliking existential hardship, where entrenched
panic attacks (despite pharmaceutical magic) death gave
enticing option, cuz quotidian struggle undermines
affinity to enjoy life, liberty, blah blah to thrave.