Long Bookstore Poems
Long Bookstore Poems. Below are the most popular long Bookstore by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bookstore poems by poem length and keyword.
You Never Know What You’ll See on Elm Street
Take my hand – follow the plan,
Let’s go for a walk down wide Spruce Street;
Friends to play with and neighbors to greet
But now that we see all that we can
Let’s turn the corner and go to Elm Street.
Questions run all over your face
Where is Elm Street – a magical place?
A kingdom where marvelous wonders live -
Where fairytales dance and marvels sing?
I can only say: “You never know what you’ll see on Elm Street.
Your eyes now look like giant white saucers,
Glowing and shining in the moonlight darkness,
Not a word, not a bird’s song, breaks through the sunlight
Look very carefully so you won’t miss the delights…
Our hearts beat loudly with wild anticipation
Every hair on our heads stands up in great animation
Peek round the corner! Open your eyes! Tiptoe lightly!
Don’t disturb the surprise.
What’s that on the corner – I can’t believe my eyes -
One of Santa’s eight reindeer all decked out in lights;
What is he doing here at the end of July?
Do we see snowflakes in the summer sky?
There in the sidewalk - a long jagged crack!
Where will it lead us – how will we get back?
Look – red ripe tomato plants grow up through the sidewalk
All we can do is wonder and gawk.
Who is that calling us – how do they know our names?
We’ve never set foot here - we’re not even famous;
Our friend Mrs. Smith from the village bookstore
With snickerdoodles and lemonade at her front door.
There on the parking strip flags of red, white and blue.
Fifty bright stars flutter on a field of dark hue.
How did they get here from Main Street in July?
Did they walk, skip or run just for our eyes –
Sit here on the curbside – rest from your quest
What’s coming next – only a guess -
Way down the street more adventures beckon
Pause just awhile – wait just a second.
Now a scary fierce giant stomps high in the sky -
A high flying ogre – dark as the night;
Only a cloud ship gliding on frisky breezes -
Heave a great sigh the giant can’t reach us.
At the end of the street we’ve finally come.
Turning back now -look at all of the fun.
The reindeer, tomatoes, flags, clouds and the cookies
All wave good-bye and with wide-eyes you ask looking
“When can we come back to Elm Street?”
A walk down Elm Street with G-Man and AJ
July - 2008
My co-worker posed a theory to me
That our boss was born one hundred years later than she was supposed to be
Neither of us could exactly put our finger on why, but I had to agree
No makeup, unbrushed hair, bad teeth
As though she just awoke from a long, troubled sleep
Her mannerisms seem out of sync somehow with contemporary company;
Solitarily sorting books in the back room of the used bookstore she manages each day
to remain distant and dazed, as though unfamiliar with a world that has dramatically changed
Nobody knows how old she is, but I’d guess upper-middle-aged
She never seems relaxed or at home with where she has landed, always looking around as she walks through a room or doorway, ever vigilant
She shows up each day looking like last night was another rough one, but her speech and ways seem oddly quaint and well-bred,
strangely legalistic and more formal than needed in this squalid environment.
She simply doesn’t seem at home in this place;
She can stand two feet away from me and a co-worker as we’re sorting while joking and, while our hands are busy working, our minds are away playing,
But she is immune to the general contagion of the strange repartee and laughs exchanged, seeming to hear nothing we’re saying.
Never laughing herself nor conversing, guarding her thoughts, observations, and history from judgment, and getting lost in her own world such that the sudden awareness of the presence of another person can induce a violently startled jump the other way.
And I know what that’s like, as I’ve spent many years in that state,
so it is painful to see it in another neglected appearance
and another needlessly nervous wreck of a person who is
wishing to just go home or one day somehow escape this place
where her body has ended up by way of a misdirected fate.
But today she took my co-worker and I by surprise when, after being shown a book with a cover featuring a picture of Jesus playing golf, she smiled widely and lively, and she replied,
“That’s ridiculous! Everyone knows Jesus only played tennis!!”
It was just a small joke, but it was like seeing a rainbow in the refracted light on a dark sky
It gave me hope that, despite being meant for a time perhaps one hundred years ago, in this day where she was nonetheless sent, she may someday come home.
I'm afraid that this poem was too long to post in one part; here's Part 2, full title:
Dragons Make Great Heating Systems
(Until They Discover That There’s More To Life…)
The next month we received two plane tickets, for free,
to go out to old “CA”; his life film to see.
In a bookstore he autographed our copies and then we had tea;
the manager was told, we were his, “Family”.
“Such a gifted young dragon you folks have raised.”
He declared, he shook both our hands and pulled up a chaise.
“You folks have given us all a great gift;
your dragon, his talents, our spirits did lift.”
A free tour of the studio, we got that week and on the weekend,
we went fishing, in dragon's favorite creek.
We got autographed pictures and souvenirs’ galore;
we’d never seen such publicity before.
Back home we flew and to our surprise;
our piano, we heard, was playing inside.
“That piano is ours!” I shouted and rushed through the door;
it was no surprise; I should've known, of course.
There sat our new dragon, playing without any care.
“Welcome home”, he said, “come and see what I’ve prepared”.
He’d cooked up a giant supper, for us to eat;
it included steamed pears, cole slaw and even chipped beef.
Wine he had poured as we took our seats;
such a succulent display of tasty delicacies.
We knew what would happen, as he filled our plates;
when he showed us the cookbook, he’d written, to date.
So just know, if for heat, a dragon you choose;
be prepared with a backup, for he, you will lose.
Especially if his insomnia reigns, if he dreams, is creative;
your life will soon change.
We ate very well for a couple of years;
then our eyes, once again, shed big giant tears.
Here came the plane tickets; we had a great trip.
We toured his studio kitchen; grew larger bellies and hips.
Home once again, we received another treat;
Dragon three’s an inventor, though he can’t boil a beet.
He’s managed to build us a new heating device;
in the summer it cools, like we’re sitting on ice.
It costs nothing to run and dragon three’s fame;
We all celebrated with a glass of champagne.
All the dragons will visit, on the big holidays
and we feel very blessed, that they share our family name.
With most of the people we see every day…we’re like ships that pass in the night.
We see there’s someone over there…but we don’t often experience their light.
One of the things I love about working in a bookstore is how our ships slow down as they pass one another in the night…how, for a moment, we get to experience…and share…in one another’s light.
An old man came into the bookstore…every step he took was strained…
His shoulders were stooped forward, his head bent down…and in his left hand he held a cane.
With his posture fixed in that permanent position…his eyes only able to see his shoes…I imagine seeing all the books on our shelves was difficult to do.
Most people who walk into a bookstore like to browse by themselves…in the warmth of the books they love to bask…so we welcome them in as they enter and let them know…if they have any questions…to ask.
This man browsed for a while…up and down the bookshelves he did look…when he finally approached me at the counter he said, “I’m looking for a specific book.”
“You found it!” He said as I handed it to him…his smile made his face seem to shine
“I bet it was on the top shelf.” he said… I nodded…as his eyes shifting up to meet mine…
And with that we began a conversation…he said he once lived in Dunedin…told me how he rode his bike before to his accident…how he was so much more active…how there was so much more he could do…before his body was bent.
He said it’s amazing how fast life can change…how it doesn’t always go the way we design…how his life changed that day in his car…when he was hit by another car from behind.
He’s already had surgery on his back…and more surgeries are planned….
He’s in town to consult with his doctor…about surgery on his right hand.
We talked for a while…and I found myself forgetting about the curvature of his spine
as he told me about more about his life and I told him a little about mine
He paid for his book, put it in his backpack and as he shuffled out the door
I could swear the light from his ship, like mine, glowed a little brighter than before.
I thought about him, again, as I closed the store…after turning out the light….
glad our two ships had a chance to meet and not just pass each other in the night.
I believe in synchronicity and the wonders therein contained…
I believe in angels and miracles and the mystery of the unexplained.
Chrissy was a friend of our daughter…growing up their friendship was like glue…
I remember in high school they dyed their hair school colors…Ali orange…and Chrissy blue.
I remember one summer she came with us to North Carolina…that’s what good friends do…and in moments when we stop to think about her…Chrissy was our friend too.
It’s been a number of years since she left us shocked and mystified…since our good friend Chrissy…committed suicide.
Her life was filled with sadness…so much agony and strife…and, one day, when no one was looking…she ended her short life.
Chrissy was young and funny and beautiful…at least on the outside for all to see…she was thoughtful and creative…she even wrote poetry.
But inside Chrissy was a troubled soul who lived in darkness and couldn’t always see the light…this morning I was thinking about how I miss her smile and all those poems she’ll never write.
How we all wish Chrissy had understood…she had friends and family nearby…
who were willing to do anything to help…who weren’t ready to say goodbye.
On my walk I wondered how she’s doing…hoping she is happy and feeling fine…and I appealed to the Other Side saying, “Chrissy, if you’re happy…please…give me a sign.”
Just something to let me know you’re not sad and lonely anymore…
and then I saw it…a five dollar bill on the ground in front of my bookstore!
I picked it up, said “Thank you, Chrissy. I’m glade you’re well, my friend…and in my pocket I placed the five dollar bill…I never intend to spend.
Was finding that five dollars just a coincidence…or was it as synchronistic as it seems?
Was it a way for Chrissy to tell me she is safe and no longer hounded by her dreams?
Was it just a random five dollar bill dropped from someone’s pocket…or a sign sent from Chrissy down to me? You can draw your own conclusions…but I vote for synchronicity.
And I implore anyone who is depressed today…to remember you have friends and family near by…willing to help in any way they can…who are not ready to say goodbye.
988…IS THE SUICIDE AND CRISIS LIFELINE: HELP IS AVAILABLE
After retiring from our country’s military service a couple stopped in the bookstore…a couple I was proud to meet…they were thinking of moving back to Florida but, given the current political climate, were afraid to walk together down the street.
My heart went out to meet there’s…I shared their feeling…felt bereft…which makes me, if you listen to the people responsible for their pain, a member of the radical left.
Of course with vitriol they misuse this term…in the same way they misuse woke…hoping the hatred they feel…their prejudice…will that same hatred and prejudice in their followers evoke.
From where I stand as I watch what they’re doing with a mixture of anger, shock and sorrow…let me tell you about the world I envision…the one I’d like to leave for the children of tomorrow:
It’s a world I don’t see as radical…for how can anyone object to a world where we treat all its creatures with dignity and respect.
A world where we concentrate on peace not war…where people are taught to think!
Where the environment is cherished…where the air we breathe is pure and our water safe to drink.
Where all guns are not banned…where we understand everyone is not a threat…
but where mental health assistance is easier to obtain and guns…much harder to get.
Where inserting ourselves into any woman’s right to choose is considered a mistake
only family, friends and doctors need to be involved in one of the most heart wrenching decisions she will eve have to make.
Where all our history is taught…all our wonders as well as the atrocities we’ve inflicted on our people and our land…Where if a parent doesn’t want their child to read a book that’s fine…but where no book is ever banned.
Where people don’t have to believe in a God…or if they do they can choose any God above…where we look into the eyes of those we don’t know with curiosity, kindness and love.
Where no-one is ostracized for who they are or how they look…seen as inappropriate or incomplete…where everyone feels safe and secure walking down the street.
This is the world I envision and I shall not apologize to those who label me the radical left…
This is the world I will stand up and fight for…even if…or when…I…am the only radical left.
Her and (Between) the Two Men Part 1
She had just met them, the two men.
And of course at first she would appear an innocent child;
With an innocent face but caught between the two men.
Her smile could make a bachelor’s taste by the night;
Like dreams over shadows of a teenager’s eye.
Her thighs could drag a man’s feet to a jury. Her eyes;
Could provoke a blind man’s sight to the chest of a juvenile.
But at times she would appear a crazy child, a lazy child.
And she would pride between the two men. She would cry;
A silent tear and she would choose to die inside.
She gave it a try at once and a dozen times thereafter. Her life;
Was a talk of the town, she’d frown;
She’d frown—but ignore. She was the gem of African beauty.
And the voice in her told her to be calm but she would ignore.
She would act as though she did not know.
She had brutal eyes of the beholder. She was still younger;
Than her first daughter when she met her sudden lover,
He was a little older than her but kind to be a brother.
He was a man. A fighter. A warrior, but a drifter.
He had become an intruder, an abuser,
And their friendship could not sustain its vulnerable matter;
But her and between the two men.
She had just met the other, and on way to the other.
She had escaped from the other, O what a saga!
Her and between the two men.
She could not bend to mend a broken heart;
But decided to desert the inner self to a fallen kind.
She submitted herself to the civilized kind. The broken kind.
The material kind. And she was a teenager. She was enticed;
By fairy tales of the working class. And she would miss a class,
To quench an old friend’s thirsty days. But the two men retained theirs.
They kept a secret. And the secret between the two men became a little curious.
And curiosity is relative. It is never absolute. You’d rather be a coward;
But curious for rhetorical matters to unfold beneath the mountain of lovers.
03102015-2147
Onalethuso Petruss Buyile Ntema
The Voice of a Shadow: Life, Reality and Mental Inspiration Poetry, 2016
This piece explores the elements of lust and vulnerability.
Author of 'SOUL SEEDS' 2014
www.bookstore.xlibris.com/Products/SKU-000725775/SOUL-SEEDS.aspx
Dragon really shouldn’t have borrowed the penguins, away from the Zoo.
Now he was their baby sitter at the lake, from morning till night, so true.
Not to mention a catasaurus was now stalking, his delightful little friends.
The Trolls volunteered their time, to help defend those cute ones, to the end.
He wanted to take them everywhere, wherever he could and had ever been.
Though most of those we’d been kicked out of… Well, here we go again.
First we passed our illustrious church, where the organ and voices rang on.
But as the penguins began to sing, it came out a screech, so I hurried them along.
Next we went to the local Ice cream Stand, where the Trolls devoured icy delights.
Brain freezes naturally ensued, so the penguins sat on their heads, what a sight!
The crowd applauded such an ingenious save, now penguin hats, are all the rage.
The Mayor gave them animal service vests, so in the news, he wouldn’t be upstaged.
This allowed them into the Mall, where lit fountains flow, a fascinating place, indeed!
Dragon became their slide, as the kids marveled at their fancy whoop-de-do deeds.
Next dragon herded them to a western shop, for sunbonnets, cowboy hats, and duds.
The mayor up for re-election, again, came along, and also got completely, gussied up.
Next was a candy store, where Dragon bought them a few, Yep, they’re like all kids.
A sugar rush ensued. Dragon reeled them in, before: who knew what, heaven forbid!
He even had to get them, out of the skylights, not easy for a bird that doesn’t fly…
But by directing them to the ice ring… he let them wear off their lengthy sugar high.
At the Mall Food Court, was sushi, and the children got to feed, the penguins they knew.
Naturally, the further they went, the more crowds ensued, until they bid the mall adieu.
But first they went to the bookstore, as yes, penguins like to read and be read to, too.
They’re now planning a penguin adventure book, ‘All the Things a Penguin Can Do’.
Then leaving the crowds, they went home on Dragon’s back, a lakeside nap, overdue.
Now I ask you very simply, if the penguins were yours to baby sit, so true…
Where, oh where, would you go… with such a precious little cargo, and you?
This simple story I relate to you exactly as it unfurled…reminding me there is still pure beauty and innocence in the world.
A mother and her daughter entered the bookstore…at guessing ages I am poor…I know enough not to try to guess the mother’s age…but her daughter was five…or maybe four.
They browsed around the bookstore for a while…up and down every aisle they looked…then they exited the store…without purchasing a book.
I could see them talking outside the window…I imagine there was a lesson the mother wanted her daughter to learn…because a few moments later…by herself…the daughter had returned.
Soon she was at the counter…book in hand…and in a voice so pleasant and nice asked, “Sir, could you please tell me…this book…what is the price?”
I told her $4.99…she smiled then I said, “Wait! There’s more…with tax this little golden book comes to five dollars thirty-four.
She thought for a moment and this is my favorite part to reminisce…then held up a twenty dollar bill and asked, “Is the price of the book less than this?”
And I had to smile as I witnessed the beauty and the innocence in this little girl with her hair flowing down her back when I told her, “Not only is that enough…but you’ll be getting money back!”
Once again with her beauty and innocence now on full display…she smiled…handed me the twenty dollar bill, picked up her book…and began to walk away.
“Wait!” I cried as she walked away while still within my range… “I’m glad you have your book but you forget your change.”
I will remember forever her expression…it was a smile both innocent and grand….when I counted out fourteen dollars and sixty-six cents and put it in her hand.
I could see how her mind was working…how lucky she felt…I could tell…
Because after coming in with one bill…
she was leaving with her book….5 bills and 4 coins as well.
“I’m rich!” She said smiling at me. “Richer than I was before….
I nodded thinking how we’re both a littler richer since she walked into the store.
As she left I silently thanked her for reminding me in this world there is beauty and innocence still….
a fact I will remember every time I find within my hands…a twenty dollar bill.
The thing about a hug is how it can show up at the most unexpected time…
in the most unexpected place and yet…
when it does…chances are that unexpected hug is one you never will forget.
We sell socks in our bookstore (on a display stand we installed),
Colorful book-related socks that come in sizes large and small.
But the sizes are written in the tiniest hard to read font
so we make sure the customer checks…to get the exact size socks they want.
An older lady came up to the counter to buy two pair of socks…
immediately I saw the confusion in her eyes…
When I said, “Make sure when it comes to those socks…that you have checked the size.”
Her confusion wasn’t with the socks…it was with me instead…
When she asked “Qué?” And I realized she did not understand a single word I said.
She entered with her family but they spread out leaving her alone…
which meant, when it came to helping her, I was on my own.
So with Google translator on my phone I walk around the counter
(wondering how I was going to handle this at all)
then showed her one of the pair of socks was grande (large)
while the other one was pequeña (small)
Now, fully committed, I entered the next part of my plan…
I showed her which sizes were for a mujer (woman) and which size was for an hombre (man)
She looked at me…nodded her head…her smile was undaunted…
as she went back to make sure she was buying the size and socks she wanted.
After ringing her up…I showed her the price…she took money out of her wallet
and as we counted it together I knew this would be rough…
because I could see her wallet was empty…and she didn’t have enough.
But once again Google translator made something easy out of something hard…
When it said in its best Spanish (and I repeated in my worst),
Tienes una tarjeta de crédito? (Do you have a credit card?)
After she nodded held up her card, smiled, then payed her bill
she motioned for me to come around the counter…to join her on the rug…
When I did she put her arms around me and gave me a big hug!
A wonderful hug that came at an unexpected time in an unexpected place and yet
It is one hug I know…I will never forget.