Long Ate Poems
Long Ate Poems. Below are the most popular long Ate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ate poems by poem length and keyword.
This is the box, That John made, This is the bread, That kept in the box, That John made,
This is the rat,
That ate the bread, That kept in the box,
That John made,
This is the cat, That chased the rat, That ate the bread, That kept in the box, That John made, This is the dog, That barked the cat , That chased the rat, That ate the bread, That kept in the box, That John made, This is the horned cow, That kicked the dog, That barked the cat, That chased the rat, That ate the bread,
That kept in the box, That John made. T
What could I eat today? I wonder.
How about some kale? Suggests my roommate Under.
I’d much rather eat live mice, or an ink pen or bird pooh off a tree.
But I try not to say it, for it might seem mean of me.
I did eat it once. Accidentally and it was worse than it looks.
I know you don’t believe it, but I’d rather eat hooks.
Fish hooks, coat rack hooks, or hooks on a string.
Kale as a food is my very last thing.
Would you rather eat a nose? An ear? A baby’s bottom?
Who the heck are you? Oh….it’s my great grandma Autumn.
I’d rather eat a rat trap, a mouse nest, and a squirrel’s tale.
I’d rather eat almost anything than that horrible awful kale!
When I was a kid on Halloween night,
I would plan my costume to give a fright;
You my young brother did not,
and complained they were too hot;
So, I got more Halloween fun delight !
My Halloween bag was full of sweet treats,
because I knocked on doors on all the streets;
You said better give me some,
and you better not tell mom;
(Hope YOU are sick from eating all MY sweets !)
____________________________________
October 17, 2019
Poetry/Non-IP Limerick/"You" Ate My Sweets
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1189-273-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, If I Were My Brother
sponsor, Bobby May
Second Place
I ate no goodies for a year
lost weight as fast as others put it on
sixty-four pounds gone
did it one of the worst possible ways
ate lettuce
drank water
for a year
nothing else passed my lips
my tiny waist was laughable
my mother offered to make me a suit
she did, and it was marvelous except way too small
I laughed when I saw it.
That’s a baby suit, I told her. I cannot wear that!
The waist was only twenty-eight inches.
my mother had measured wrong!
She told me to try it.
The waist was too big; I could spin the skirt.
my mother had made a point
while I was seeing myself heavy
others knew I was starving myself
I began to eat
I admit that I won’t hand in my homework before the deadline
but time is a difficult concept when you are covered in scales
that weigh you down and you are a perfectionist procrastinator
your claws dig into the task and wings are covered in fantasy
The reptile of your imagination attempts to take off in fancy
but the crumbled pages of flight control head space object to
imperfection smudged lines grammar syntax and repetition
while you as the writer and the protagonist lose absent plots
Fumes spout from a brain on overdrive and lost speed control
maybe the magic mushrooms were out of date and sedatives failed
to settle down a mind full of passion and hard graft lost in space
when agitation mixes with insomnia and pills’ antagonistic effects
Surely the teacher can’t fail you on effort ten out of ten for trying
to create more than a title caption that wiggles from the shivers
not to conform to old templates and hand in sub-standard work
a genius does not submit to outdated prescriptions nor norms
You decide that a kind flaming pterodactyl came to your rescue
takes the blame in brilliant disguise for creating blank meaning
Miss that is when it occurred to me to become a dinosaur instead
you will appreciate that there is a distinction and you are a dragon
09th February 2021
Charles Bukowski ate my girlfriend
He started with her head
Fiddled with her like finger food
Putty in his hands
Charles Bukowski took my girlfriend
Slapped her hard upside the face
Now she likes it dirty
So this poets been replaced
I'd like to say so long Charlie
As far as I'm concerned
You can hit the literary highway
Never to return
Charles Bukowski took my girlfriend
And showed her a good time
As I'm watching from the shallow end
Of my kiddie pool of simple rhyme
Charles Bukowski ate my girlfriend
Chewed her up then spit her out
Now that good for nothing Charlie
Is all she talks about
Kapow! Here’s mud in your face!
Poetasting rhymes, rhythms and nuclear waste.
Playing in mud pits, kitchens and certainly laced
Everyting that’s made . . . in this mysterious place.
Prob’ly shouldn’t eat this mud in this pie,
It may be somthin’ that’s all just a lie.
Interesting reads and certainly flies . . . beyond belief . . .
High above all that’s high in the sky.
Grand Master Chefs with their heads in the sand
When they pop out unleashing their impossible plans,
Amaze me mind with swirling twirling expands
Me into magical worlds of colorful lands.
Creating recipes so fabulous and untamed
Makin’ somethin’ outta nothin’ - sometimes insane.
Like potters awakening monsters in clay,
I read with a fever . . . Poet of the Day.
New poems always put a smile on my lips,
“What’s this,” I say, “that puts new pounds on my hips.”
Feeding my soul with soupster’s gluteness glips
Coming to life like birds pecking their way thru the crust,
Flocking to screech that it’s Poetry or Bust!
Come one, come all! Don’t miss the bus!
It’s time to unleash the beast . . . in all of us.
I’m not sure I’d eat mud pie turned into soup,
But I’m sure it tastes better than anomalous poop.
No bird brains here, weird just expressing our scoop,
You’re all wonderfully wonking a world worth a damn,
Nothing here can poss’bly be wrong or a scam . . .
No hackers allowed, A.I.s or plagiarizing posers,
Only original awesomeness of incredible composers.
I see you . . .I feels you all . . . eating this soup . . . making the call
To the restaurant that feeds the needs of us all.
No one here starves, no one at all.
So, thank you for being you
And always know that it's true
you’ll always be welcome
in my sandbox of blues.
It was our third-grade field trip to the Dinosaur Exhibit
We would be touring all the lands that dinosaurs inhibit
I remember the teacher saying “keep your hands inside your pockets”
Then she paired me with the meanest kid, his name was Tommy Rockets
“I dare you to take an egg,” Tommy whispered giving me a stare
The nest was full of eggs, if I took the smallest who would care?
The next day at school every child was questioned.
The museum curator was out to teach us a lesson
The egg had grown overnight and was hidden in my coat.
They made mom take me to the doctor so he could check my throat.
They poked me and they prodded, ran machines against my feet.
They questioned why I would choose that specific egg to eat.
The news showed my picture on every single station.
One reporter called me Dino Boy. I was an amateur sensation
When the egg finally hatched I had to hide the birth.
The animal that was born was extinct from this earth.
A Flaming Pterodactyl in all his blazing glory.
No one believed me, but who could make up such a story?
At first, he was easy and stayed in my closet through the day.
At night he’d fly around but never go astray.
Then I started getting blamed for things when I wasn’t even there.
Like vegetables gone from gardens leaving soil bare.
Kitty cats so high in trees the firemen couldn’t reach them.
Children so riled up teachers couldn’t teach them.
We moved from one town to another and another.
Each time it was the same. People felt pity for my mother
The next morning I woke up to a chewing sound
crunch, crunch, and crunch.
That’s when I noticed he ate my homework for his lunch.
My Flaming Pterodactyl again was causing havoc.
With a trail of Cheetos, I led him to our attic.
I made sure he was comfy then I headed off to school.
No one there believed me until they found him swimming in the pool.
Now he’s our school mascot in all his flaming glory.
A Pterodactyl that … sorry he ate the rest of this story!!
February 1st, 2021
Written for the contest: and then a flaming pterodactyl ate my homework
Sponsor: John Lawless
I was a happy child
Carefree, talentless, happy
Jumping around and singing tunes
Tunes of bygone joy and unbridled dream
But they scorned me
They mocked the child I was within
They tried to make me like them
Children whose child within was slain
But I persisted
By God I persisted.
I refused to sing only their tune
Refusing the cocoon of their songs
But the scolding were gone and the whips came
With each Whack, a memory flies away
Heavy groaning and bitter tears litter the courtyard
Croaked voice and battered mouth
As each day passes, the singing becomes lower
Till I started humming their tune
Then I stopped altogether
Leaving only the silence as my precious dinner.
6 Italian sausages
Cooked
Remove from skins
Chopped fine
In a bowl mix
2 cups of cream cheese
1 cup of parmeseam
1 cup of shredded mozzarell
3 tablespoons of minced garlic
3 tablespoons of chopped basil
2 teaspoons of oregano
3 egg yolks
3 tablespoons vermouth
2 teaspoons of chopped anchovies
Mix well. Set aside.
25 sliced tomotoes
Pizza dough rolled square
Using a dry lasanga noodle
Cut pizza dough in to retanglaur
Squares.
In a loaf pan layer pizza dough
Five tomato slices five dollops of cheese mixture. And top with sausage.
Layer again using same method.
Cover the third layer and using a pastry brush, eggwash the top and bake until the top is golden brown.
1 fifth of vodka
1 fifth of brandy
5 cups of toasted almonds
1 cup of toasted coconut
3 cups of dried raspberries
2 cups of a strong brew tea
1 cup of sugar
Mix together and cover for me here weeks.
Serve with a chocolate cake.