Long Barrette Poems
Long Barrette Poems. Below are the most popular long Barrette by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Barrette poems by poem length and keyword.
Yepper-doddle, today I’ll use my own noddle.
My prized antique frame sustained a despised bust.
Wanting to show my man the tough dough in my crust,
I found strong glue and told that goo I was nonplussed.
Next, I grabbed frame, soda and sat on my sofa.
Three tries – no prize, so with both eyes quite wide,
I called the glue a boob lube, dumb as a square loop,
and threatened to incise its worthless insides.
I rose, fetched pose and a calming balm libation,
then returned to pestering with less sweltering.
Glue applied, both sides, I made my hands a vice
and, well fries n’ flies, I squeezed degrees of might.
Bullet sweat, my muscles clinched like a barrette,
I pressed longer than tourists eating pullets.
Then when gingerly, tenderly letting go –
glue thoroughly, tauntingly offended me -
son of a bee, ugly as his glue-mom-harlot,
refused to seam my antique frame back to its gleam.
Past bummed, I stood to sweetly summon my husband,
but my feet stuck to carpet, mucked as a tar pit.
CayCay Jennings
October 16, 2018
Star crossed champions of mirth
Wild hair and wild eyes, both
To the world they say with arms raised to the sky,
"What a pity, for we dearly love to laugh!"
Arm in arm, singing their favorite show tunes
But in the voices of Donald Duck and Calamity Jane
Gallivanting through the city, doing the Charleston in the street
These two have no interest or talent for growing up
And made the world lighter because of it
Willy Wonka in his purple jacket,
Holding the door for her with his cane,
Him with those dreamy eyes
Pale eyes that swim in her perpetual smile
A smile, a voice and a soul that lit up everything for miles
She sits, glowing in the window,
Like a princess in the white room, wearing her little barrette
But she isn't well at all
And so she left this world, Roseannadanna did, one morning
And the twinkle in his eye twinkled off into space
With her dimples, impromptu cartwheels and spinning skirts
Four years wasn't enough to fill up the laughing box
The glass elevator is lonely looking down on the world
Wait, wait, wait, BAM!
Would she want him sinking there in his spats?
A wop, bam, boo! No, choose instead to keep that wicked grin
Dance down the aisle of the plane, show that funny funny face
Embrace each Saturday Night gone by
To Gene and Gilda, geniuses of love and light hearts
Pop the cork on the champagne and roller skate through this life!
~For Heather Ober's Famous Couples/Duos Poetry
Contest
Today my husband and I decided to clean out the car, together.
Only I thought I was doing it alone, until he came out.
Okay, I quit, I said, knowing what happens when he gets in my WAY.
Remember I despise cleaning!
It’s something I only do when forced.
Today is force day.
We are exchanging cars.
I unloaded my car on Thursday night.
What a fright!
There are seventeen unopened boxes, waiting in the hall.
And six bags of stuff someone might be able to use twenty years ago, on the couch
Inside the front door.
If my mother showed up even after a four hour car ride,
I could not let her in.
She’d have to drive around for an hour or so.
I truly wish I was kidding.
I’ll just unload the five hundred pounds of birdseed, he told me.
Pretty soon we were fighting over a five dollar bill and a barrette.
The man doesn’t even have hair.
Those boxes and bags can wait for a week or two.
I’m in no hurry to go through them
Until I realize my wallet is missing.
I know I should not whine or frivolously fret,
but I believe I have lost my pet marmoset.
I have also lost a blue barrette, a red tea set,
and a beautifully carved purple aigrette.
They all went down in the drain,
putting me in a particularly uncomfortable cold sweat.
I did not mind losing Jeanette,
a snake who was never an exceptionally kind or loving pet,
I am sad about losing my baby’s bassinet
and a tiny edge of my bathroom’s finest moquette.
They both fell down the storm drain,
when I paused to look at my rapidly disappearing tea set
Way down deep in the bowels of the sewer,
and I am especially sad to lose my pet marmoset.
Here comes another person.
She has lost a briquette, diskette,
and a sliver of yellow georgette.
Written 2-28-2019
Contest: Down a Storm Drain Gone Forever
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Mommy and Daddy drove out to get their new baby n a winter storm
They were on the road for an hour because there was ice on the road.
We did not know if we were getting a brother, a sister, or a puppy.
Grandpa had suggested puppy; we were stuck on this idea actually.
They came home from the hospital on a much nicer day.
Daddy was carrying a baby wrapped in a blue and white blanket.
You have a new baby brother, they told us.
My identical twin and I fought over him at first.
Catlike mewing and whining got to me. I decided she could have him.
He had curls and fat cheeks and said funny things when he turned two.
He was the most amazing wonderful creature in the world then.
At three he was getting into our things and messing up our room.
I was ready to trade him for a puppy, snow cone, barrette or a dime.
At five he got his first bike. At twelve, my twin and I got our first bike.
I said it was not fair,, but he was a “boy”, so our father thought it was.
At nineteen I had a new baby; my brother came over a lot to see her.
At eleven, he loved her – carrying her around, feeding her the bottle.
He rode his bike to my house every day in the summer to see her.
This is when I got to know him and got close to him for the first time.
I recognized his sweetness and his giving nature,
and I was proud he was my brother.
Karen keeps it all
she has buttons and bows
her very first doll
there are sixteen drawers in her closet
none of them close
some are full of ruined old panty hose
Karen is a crafter, she throws nothing away
her husband keeps quiet, he has no real say
for she might need this and she might need that
she has a a rubber chicken and a Frisbee hat
she has an entire dresser full of patterns and stuff
if you suggest purging, Karen runs off in a huff
She might need that piece of cardboard or that old barrette
Try to sneak something into a garbage, she will most certainly fret.
She keeps it all, it is clutter she values the most.
She is a terrific crafter, but not ever ready to host.
I wish you the true ..........
Knowing fully well you got enough wishes
To come are fulfilments and celebration
Enjoy each moment of your day's period
These are my wishes for you
Have a good fun off delicious dishes
To count on worthwhile memories in administration
Till come such next year in myriad
Being at the middle
Everyone does eye the top
Up there are many vibes and vices
While you eye, they wish they were
May you never be laid idle
May sickness never put thy muscles to a stop
Throughout living, shall you onto life add spices
To count on putting in enough care
Growing...
Grow others of you
Learning...
Learn how life fairs
Praying...
Pray love abounds
Wishing...
Wish there exist no regret
Laughing...
Laugh at childhood owned blue
Hiring...
Hire joy to manage your affairs
Listening...
Listen how lovely birthday song sounds
Putting...
Put it on tightly, thy nice barrette
All day long
Waiting is now over
Thou still look so young
Keep enjoying- grace of the new crossover
Slowly, Mickey Mouse wafted by
as I gazed at the cerulean sky.
The warmth of a cool Chardonnay
I’d sipped at the end of the day;
had me drift in and out of a sleep.
As Mickey transformed to a sheep
all my thoughts coast into a haze.
While the hammock so gently sways
my conscious is thoroughly freed,
from the book I intended to read.
The sheep, soon pierced by a jet;
floats like a fluffy barrette
past the tops of the trees
blown by the soft summer breeze
as the last of the cobwebs dissolve.
I’ll make it my earnest resolve,
I say to myself, or out loud,
as I watch another white cloud,
troubles can take a backseat;
doing nothing at all is so sweet.
There was a young girl called Paulette
with a temper that was hard to forget
she had a baby doll called Georgette
and one day when Paulette was upset
because she could not find her barrette
she threw Georgette and was full of regret
oh so sad, she put baby in her doll bassinet
and lay all night in bed weeping till the sunset
she acknowledge to herself a spoiled mindset
promising that her spoiled ways she would reset
___________________
November 10, 2021
Poetry/Monorhyme/Paulette - 1
Copyright Protected, ID 11-1405-680-10
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Paulette 1
sponsor, Julia Ward, Judged 12/14/2021
When warm and gentle winds
flutter and lull the lustruous lilacs
so discontent of the primroses,
the drooping willows
deepen in their sorrows,
and as in an angelic apparition:
there comes into view
a friendly ballerina dressed in blue
to perform an ardent ballet
in her red dancing shoes that match
her golden,glazing barrette...
unlikely a hand-manipulated marionette!
Unpretentious and pretty ballerina,
invent another unrealistic aurora...
like the one that appears in the northern sky,
to make believe that is still daytime:
to attune your mood to a symphonic music
that can be enjoyed by us!
When the blue-jays refuse to sing,
use your rhythmic swing
to overwhelm us with sheer delight;
this sentimental season
repletes with amazing surprises:
to render and choose,
to keep in our thoughts and heart
the purpose of true reason!
Irresistible and elegant ballerina,
perform a dance rarely seen by critics...
be of a joyful spirit without nostalgia,
be remarkable in your gestures and steps;
a daisy opens its petals at sunrise,
invulnerable joy carries you to crimson skies...
to increase your strenght and make you shine
more than the radiant sun above the horizon...