Long Button up Poems
Long Button up Poems. Below are the most popular long Button up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Button up poems by poem length and keyword.
If I had wings that I could fly, I would spread my wings way up in the sky and swirl around in the air and survey the moving vessel in every corner and watch every bird landing in trees.
I can see them moving around the sky in droves with weather suits and button up nose; flinging alteration in the air and watching the centipedes driving in the clouds, and when the work is almost done, I will land on the house top and have some fun, and make a new map of pleasant hill.
Look at you walking around in boots, with strings laced up to your ankles while flying saucers are watching you from behind seeping underneath the clouds with a vision that is extremely bold and you with a heart of steel must answer to the deal before the day is done.
The ornament is whistling in the trees and the birds are whispering a message to thee and the wind is getting stronger and my heart is growing warmer and my spirit is dancing on its eels while the seagull’s flaps their wings landing in the middle of the sea with a serenade coordinated for the visitors.
I have been observing the skies for months with a giant rocket and thunderous cannon, I have a brand new ship that can penetrate depths and iron shoe that can scale a hundred steps, and when the tide is high I can fly bountifully above every obstacle before I escape. We have some business to put to bed before the new fleet arrives, so get ready for the big surprise.
Look at you walking around the fence, looking for the lion that is hiding in the den, I have been waiting for so long for you to harmonize with me and sing this quiet song, I want you to clear your throat and bellow the message aloud without a doubt.
Look at you walking without shoe it is a pleasure to meet you. The air is clean and the panda is climbing on the tree, hold on strong to your future dreams and prepare for this life long journey, the road is clear and you are almost there, look out for the sign and measure it with the divine.
“Hey, Mom”
Hey, Mom!
I can’t sleep.
I’ve been awake for hours.
There are dragons at my door.
“Come crawl in beside me,” She said
“I’ll chase them far away.”
Hey, Mom!
I stubbed my toe.
It hurts really bad.
“Let me see.” She said
“Oh my gosh. I think it needs a kiss.”
Hey, Mom!
Johnny said I’m fat.
He makes me mad.
I want to clobber him.
“Come here a little hug will do,” She said
“You’re a diamond in my eye.”
Hey, Mom!
Can you take me to the park?
I want to ride a merry-go-round
And play in the sand.
“Let's ask a friend,” She said
“I’ll pack a lunch.”
Hey, Mom?
Could you tie my shoe
And button up my coat?
It’s cold outside.
“I’ll walk you to the corner,” She said
“And see you on the bus.”
Hey, Mom!
Can I stay up late
And watch TV with
You and Dad?
It’s time for bed
My little one
A little kiss will have to do.
Hey, Mom!
Would you read me
A bedtime story?
Sure, my little one
Now, It’s time to turn out the light.
“Sweet dreams,” She said, “Sweet Dreams.”
That’s what Moms do.
Hey, Mom!
“Happy Mother’s Day”
Oh chestnut candy horse mane
Do your top button up blow the
red rum fluff away and jump the
brook
As I find it in the quiet best in-between
when the traffic stops at red lights
To detect the frequency of the waves
pitching and cresting from the blades
and turbine of the wind farm way up
high on the hilltop
The nurses footsteps walking the ward
beat beside the Doctor calling official
time of death
An unfurled rainbow green , red , blue
and orange flag coat of arm's celebrating
intertwined
Look Mr Fantastic ferrell Fox is swaggering
up and through the part residential city center
back alleys preening his whisker tips
Listen how a distant echo of a siren can be
heard and a blue flashing light seen as 1
of the 3 critical emergency services hastily
speed to a horror scene only for the brave
See under moonlight how menacing shadows
of rats the size of bunny cat's scale the walls
to make the gothic bird's above a building
rooftop scowl the night away
Look a man with his hand out hailing a taxi
cab saying to the driver take me home quickly
I'm back at work at 5am not doubt with a
massive hangover in check
Listen to the drunken homeless man arguing
with himself whilst playing rock , paper , scissors
over who gets to suck the bone or the cardboard
in order to sleep warm
Goodnight Liverpool
Sweet Dreams
God Bless
It's way past my bedtime
I'll see you in the morning
When the day shifts story a new begins
Does your workplace make you wear a uniform
Because you’re a firefighter, nurse or a cop?
Do you proudly wear your dark blue trousers
With that sexy white button up top?
Are you a chef cooking in a ridiculously tall hat,
Or a judge with an outlandish toupee,
Who gives terms of punishment out to the criminals,
Then tells the guards to take them away.
At work uniforms worn say we belong to this group,
Say allegiance, say honour and truth.
I guess that’s why the bikie gangs around town
Give logoed jackets to rambling youth.
But me, I’m simple, I wear smart casual at work,
During the day I am out of sight.
It’s when I get home, alone with my girl,
We dress in uniforms all throughout the night.
It doesn’t mean we belong, or have honour or code,
Or any real deep meaningful duty.
It means we love the implied power, the roles we can play,
Is a mental abstract form of beauty.
I have an old gray button up shirt
Like the cowboys wear with rugged jeans
It fits big and covers me up completely
So that I feel like I’m living uniquely
I love this old shirt that cost a pretty penny
Because I purchased her at a magazine with plenty
Of beautiful pieces to match and select
I chose her on the part that I like best
Her ability to cover my upper body fully
So that I don’t have a need to feel unworthy
Because of my chubbiness or lack of flair for flirting
This one piece of clothing makes me feel assurance
I love her pockets on the front that seem so enduring
And give me a place to put my smokes even though
I quit them in 2013 before I met my ex-husband
That smoker who will never quit – the alcoholic
I split up from him but didn’t let my shirt go with him
He liked it and if he’s had his way, he’d have took her with him
But I can only say – he’s gone and my shirt has stayed
She’s will me til my dying day or hers, whichever comes first
Button up, and strut,
grab the cane and the hat,
she’s got her favourite clutch and such,
who knows with girls and their pearls,
The lights shine bright,
the greasers start a fight,
but it’s Saturday, so it’s quite alright,
sittin in the club,
waitin for some grub,
grab a tab, we jab and josh and slosh,
The bass stands upright,
and so does the crowd,
she’s got that beaded dress fitting so tight,
curves singing out loud,
bunny hopping to beats,
and keeping that scotch real neat,
Hair up high, in a beehive,
oh behave darlin we’re daring to dance so close,
we got those air ride dreams of pure hope,
concept cars and velvet ropes,
let’s take it to the show,
We saved all week for a night like this,
a little shine, a little bliss,
didn’t take much cash to feel first class,
just a jukebox glow and a dance that lasts,
now the prices climb and the nights get thin,
but oh, we remember where we’ve been,
Beep boppin to the retro gaze,
it’s easy to look back in a lavender haze,
in Button Down Town, we shine what we’ve got,
pressed up dreams and a Saturday shot,
yeah, we lived it up proud,
in our button down crowd,
Beep boppin to the retro gaze,
it’s easy to look back in a lavender haze,
in Button Down Town, the nights felt long,
chrome bright hopes and a jukebox song,
yeah, the world spun slow
in that lavender glow,
Autumn gently grabs the lungs,
squeezes out the resin of summer.
Slaps you back into seriousness.
Rips children from laps
extends silence into issues
invites another ring of fat.
Time to button up living
roll another 4 inches of insulation.
Praying the old motor can handle another season
of less margin for error.
Autumn has risen to eye level.
Ordered sparrow into his beige feather hut....
Put poverty at the doorstep of the ice cream man
under damp pointed jewels.
A chorus of wind chimes is shrill
like a voice of metal and ice
winter will quarter autumn
cement its feet into death-
I am feeling fraught,
And, stupid too,
I don't know what to do.
I need to open a screw-top bottle,
Which I am about to throttle.
Bottle tops and lids on things
Also, those with tin pull rings.
Exasperate me.
I feel useless when I buy
Parcel that I can't untie
Tags that are too small to see
That should open the cling-wrapped purchases easily.
To button up a shirt or blouse
That used to take seconds
It could take hours.
Time is of the essence,
So it's said
Then there is another saying,
"You are a long time dead"
It must be my thinking that is askew.
As I furiously shake the bottle,
That I can't unscrew!
Old Expensive
The snow is falling, so, I button up my head,
above it, Someone’s sound – “above a street lamp”.
Music, leaks in, the lampshade sways,
hanging above a stained in bed;
Freddie gave it all for champagne.
Until, the thin applause fell flat!
Outside amongst the frozen sparrows,
and the cutting snowflakes, snowblades;
I see the monsters of winter, No!
I see the monster that is winter; coldly
emerging from its hollowness glade.
An old man in his expensive wilderness
rushes by, his white distorted knuckles
try to squeeze the breath, slowly from
his bitter dream of heavy coins and light notes.
While back at home! His wife shaves her skin,
to make him thin! She stands in a timeless mirror,
in a seamless hall, surrounded by a reflection of wealth!
This has now revealed itself as their poverty,
tangled in a bruise memory of blueing veins.
Comfortably! The monster sits; waiting in their counting house.
I button up my cardigan
The weather's closing in.
I'm follically challenged,
not my hairline, but my skin..
As the clouds begin to gather
and wind whips up to boot..
I twist my collar skyward..
deploy my bumbershoot.
And so.. I hurry past you,
we nod but hardly share
the time of day and just pretend
there's no time left to care.
"Is there fear of being open?"
as enclosure keeps me safe,
Suddenly I'm conscious:
all
these
layers
start to chafe.
Old wounds that pierced my skin
don't need to hide away.
The strangest gift;
these scars;
require the light of day.
But what if..
Summer's sun is early?
A transformation starts..
We feel the authenticity
warming up our Wintery hearts?
For what we crave is
Love.
Acceptance, sister. Brother.
But first we have to open up..
be honest with another.
Feel the raindrops on our skin.
Unbutton the protection.
Release us to the elements of
humanity's affection.
For deep within us all
there's stuff we hide away..
Exposure to the open air
and brightness of the day..
..it might be when the healing starts.
Wind, sun, or snow or rain.
Outside it may be different.
But inside..
we're all the same.