Long Bagels Poems
Long Bagels Poems. Below are the most popular long Bagels by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bagels poems by poem length and keyword.
It's halloween I'm babysitting, little horrors crawl from their cradles
I'm not a happy chaperone, these kids are becoming quiet unstable
Frankenstein's unscrewed some bolt, his head's hanging by a cable
Dracula drank five Bloody Marys, now he's talking complete babel
Wolf-boy's climbing walls, I nailed his paws rendering him incapable
Wicked witch's making potions, with soiled diapers and sugar maple
The crazed Mummy's eating bandaids, he looks even more disabled
Evil twins are slashing each other's faces, I'm running out of staples
Skinny skeleton kid's choking to death, stuffing his face with bagels
The exorcist cannot stay still, keeps spinning her head on the table
Johnny's home! chopping doors, I'm outta here my heart's not able
Halloween Monorhyme Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
10/30/2021
At a U.F.T.* event,
The sign was printed large,
Obviously placed there by
The person left in charge.
What it said was no surprise
For schnorrers** often show,
But “Please take only one!” I thought
Was not the way to go.
It referred to bagels, which
Were piled upon a plate,
Looking like the most pathetic
Ones you ever ate.
Though quite unappealing,
Even with a cream cheese schmear,
There are those who might take two –
The sign made that quite clear.
An admonition will not stop
A schnorrer in his tracks,
But add some sorry bagels and
The food staff can relax!
*United Federation of Teachers
**greedy people who take more than their share
Jumping the jam,
I am peter pan,
doing a man,
don't know his name at this dam.
Down-stream is a clam,
up is a nap-
I creak when I walk,
never stop for talk,
just smoke a lot,
and hope for a magical robot,
to intercept the hotness right outta the golf.
Reading a lot,
speeding at the shop,
rotating at the main evacuation,
suffocating during masterb#***$!
Stoning without stoners to bank it,
waiting for sin to just spank it!
I read the riddles,
and rape the shingles-
right off red roofs,
of old men sitting in bagels.
I retort the regime,
I run from the scene,
I do all the same drugs,
I hate all the same thugs.
Remember when we 'matured' and went off to college
And they classified all us guys as wimps or as jocks
The latter got the girls, the press and the glory
While the former were ridiculed, scorned and mocked
And though we took courses to become
Lawyers, accountants or docs
Half of us wound up on Wall Street
Trading bonds, options or stocks
A few of us joined the Army
For campaigns like "Awe and Shock"
Many more became computer specialists
Who liked to think outside the box
Yes, there were those who found cures
For diseases like hepatitis and chicken pox
Others who delved into eternal mysteries
Like Saturn's rings or the vernal equinox
But now we're on the brink of retirement
We've had our fair share of hard knocks
We've decided it's finally time to relax---
To enjoy eating creamcheese on bagels with lox
There was a store in Brooklyn selling
Food we’d often crave.
The owners were a couple
Known to all as Ruth and Dave.
On weekends I was sent there
Walking just a few short blocks
To buy bagels, cream cheese, whitefish
And some thin-sliced salty lox.
At times there was baked salmon
And if my mom had the urge,
On chocolate-covered jells
And graham crackers we would splurge.
It wasn’t every week we’d get
Those yummy foods to eat.
We knew a trip to Ruth and Dave’s
Was for a special treat.
So many years have passed I’m sure
That Ruth and Dave are dead,
But I can see them smiling,
She with braids piled on her head.
I left out riding my bike down
first street over looking the
wildly calm river artist's lined
bicentennial entrance way where
Thomas Edison Rockefeller
and Ford feasted on clams
my mind wandered about
the timing of the dem lights to
brighten the garden lofts above
the streets soft jazz from
Billie holiday rang out down
old Hendry street my heart strings
mingled with the Sunday drivers
passing by after mass fondly
trying to pick me up leaving
the shops it was noon it was
damp the sun peeked in behind
the gulf today a few children
skipped by carrying balloons
while the fishermen tossed nets
near the shore sand collected
beneath my toes as two boats
docked this was home my life
an yet the Caribbean whispered
to me waves slammed against
the stone walls I felt a few sprinkles
I quickly dashed into the book store
on the corner while the aroma of fresh
French bread gather all of my senses
luring me to a sit down with brunch
tiny raisin bagels diced mangos
inside a vintage wine glass
one thousand sparrows flew
backwards within the breeze
as I rest on the steps of St Francis
A hands-on workshop was such fun
In Montreal today.
We made real bagels, all from scratch
In a yummy, local way.
Our teacher made us feel at home
(Makes sense - he lives there, too!)
As, patiently, he demonstrated
What we had to do.
Eleven of us washed our hands
And tied our aprons on,
Then measured the ingredients
And mixed ‘til they were gone.
We kneaded and then shaped the dough
With Will to supervise,
Then watched them boil and added seeds
And, much to our surprise,
We made delicious bagels
And our group felt really proud!
As a born and bred New Yorker,
I was thrilled and also wowed.
If you visit Montreal, make sure
You find Will’s class and go
For a wonderful experience
That will delight you so!
just take off a layer
or walk around
topless
i am the archpriest
eating sugar puffs
i am the prelate
eating bagels
i am halfway
in
and halfway
out the window
the mother-in-law wants it off
i am not for sale
my successors are labouring
like hercules
the hidrosis is formulaic
like glib one-liners
"it's bad for the bones and
you'll catch a cold"
bring on the catarrh
the indisposition
the bogeys
the runny front bonnet
and collectivist honk
the towel over the bowl
of hot adam's ale
seduce my soul my doxy
my concubine
a night emission
i make love to the air conditioner
Our lady cashier, Karen, daydreamed again
right past me in a nearby grocery ,
her fingers fumbling over my selection
of cold cuts, bagels,and lemon powder
while a haze seemed
to grasp her thoughts under some frozen
moment of autistic innocence
like a crystallized trance.
So I followed her inside a dreamscape
while Karen narrated
this countless parade of jays hovering
above a sea of orange dahlias . In a flash,
she mumbled about Einstein, asking this man,
" Oh, did your growth hormone intake work
based on relativity's law?" Gently, from a distance ,
she relayed how Joplin wept, tending
children in a monastery--- an abstract recording
through Karen's uncut version of life's tinges.
Faltering in her own universe, she lisped a melody,
"If this were truly heaven, then death
would be it's own reward." And this lady
gently fixed her tidy uniform,
then peered into my eyes ...unseen by anyone
except myself in the din of late afternoon.
" Oh it's you, "Will that be paid in cash,
through coupons or credit card?" Smiling,
I gave some money and walked away...
moved by this rare instance of naturalnesss.
11/28/2016
The Best of James Tate Contest..Space Cadet
The holiday cabin smelled of wet pigeons
but it was lakeside and cheap.
The lake was not popular,
too deep and weedy for swimming,
too shallow for docking boats,
yet it suited our make-do mindsets.
Of course,
we were romantically attached at the hips,
feet glided upon air
as we wandered upon the pebbly beach
fingers entwined in a dank mist.
Graham crackers and marshmallows
were unpacked
alas the firepit was soaked
with too much leafy fog.
A desultory fire was sparked
in a damp bed beneath a mildewed roof.
We had only tomato soup, tough bagels
and a pack of Marlborough.
We had not planned for chills and hunger.
Inevitably the vacation
grew lukewarm.
Runny noses and sneezes,
the cheesy smell of wet footwear
all seeped deeply into our gestalt,
philosophically
we bailed on the quickly drenched dream,
and each other.