Long Canned Poems
Long Canned Poems. Below are the most popular long Canned by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Canned poems by poem length and keyword.
There's facts and small truths and jokes about life,
Canned laughter and the occasional song.
And there's always argued political opinions,
From big to small, right and wrong.
The guests talk, on topic, of their own field,
Never deviating from what's in their head.
And I listen and think and ponder and learn,
On the informative ideas that are said.
Of course there's the occasional crazy guest,
Living underground in the housed up bomb shelter.
Believing world war three but forgetting air conditioning,
So freezing in winter, then in summer they swelter.
And the ads, the commercials of modern,
Selling things to folks on the go.
It's our weekend airwaves filled full to the top,
It's our local radio show.
Their March
So, you dropped by to learn where the Future soon will be
And what the fascist’s creed will ultimately decree.
Constructed oh so steadily by Republican traitor calls
The fascist acid seeping through our legislative halls
Broadcast destructively by media incompetent,
Misinformation besets the right-wing ignorant
Low-grade intelligence collects the rotted theme
So, votes are banned, Rights are canned to complete the fetid scheme.
While the Democrats administer the distractions fascists breed
Democracy’s chipped away - Constitution’s left to bleed
Can’t see the forest through fascist planted trees
But only on distractions do left-wingers work to please.
Our foundation’s being eaten while our building’s being cleaned
Fascist erosion’s fed while Democracy’s demeaned
Next time you “drop by” I think I’ll hear you say:
Why didn’t we divert our fight … go on to Save the Day?
But … by then, it’ll be way too late.
Medgar Fallon Roe
The best thing about popcorn is its taste,
crunchy, salty, I like mine with butter.
You can buy cheesy, caramel, and sour cream
just to name a few.
Moving along to smell, no time to waste.
Fresh popped, bagged or canned, popcorn's unique.
I think it smells like a movie theater
and like ball games too.
The touch of popcorn? these points I have traced:
it's sometimes hot, then it's warm, and then cold.
It's food for comfort when I'm feeling sad (or glad),
it's not "hard" to eat.
About the sight of popcorn, it's two-faced.
Hard, tiny orange kernels turn into white puffs
it's not very pretty until it is cooked
the magic is heat.
What's there to hear about popcorn but haste.
Listen quickly, it's sizzling, then pop, pop, pop.
like a bunch of firecrackers cut down to size
but don't let it burn.
Now on its pedestal we have it placed,
a standing ovation for this favored treat.
Low in calories (just leave off the butter).
to popcorn I adjourn.
8-8-18
contest: Five Senses
host: Viv Wigley
Sitting on the porch
neath the old Oak,
breakfast is over,
bacon, fried yeast bread and peach preserves
canned by hand in ancient jars.
They’ve seen their share of life,
garden tomatoes,
blanched to remove the skin,
peeled and crushed,
a smidge of salt and hint of lemon,
lovingly filled
as the sweat is wiped from furtive brow,
and the last of the butter beans are picked
…taters dug.
Watermelons and cantaloupes are long gone,
only the pumpkins remain in the garden,
their leaves yellowing from green,
their cheeks blushing orange,
awaiting their ritual makeover of snaggle toothed grins
and flickering hollow stares.
The summer season slowly, limpidly
goes to sleep.
Sweet tea at hand,
the ice has all melted,
and the clacking rhythm of the old rocking chair
slowed,
as time stands silent
in the oppressive heat.
If you look through the clear glass
now there is held
the sweetness of Autumn’s fruit,
strawberries and blueberries
and of course sweet, succulent, juicy peaches.
fruit and sugar and nothing more,
cooked to perfection,
with slow caring hands.
How many pints and quarts
over how many years have these bent fingers held.
Soon now those same jars will empty
and soap and water will wash
from them the years of use,
the memories we’ve shared
...but the love will remain.
The rusted rings will be thrown away,
the broken seals replaced,
and like new a young, strong set of hands
will heat the jars …sterilizing …each one,
preparing them, one by one,
to be filled with the new memories and love they will hold.
11/23/17
spectrum of spring hues
birds' dulcet tunes, whiff of shoots ~
paradise regained
blazes of summer
trees hunched with fruits and blossoms~
a vibrant outdoor
yolk tinted aged leaves
rolling with a canned laughter ~
alerts to make hay
snow as cotton field
squirrel feasts on treasured food~
enjoys winter sleep
seasons go round and unfold
each with its unique threshold
Placed : 1st
Haiku Sonnet Poetry Contest
Other poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Joanna Daniel
Syllable Check : how many syllables
Final couplet : 7.7 syllables
Date: 04-05-2023
Just because you don’t understand the question
doesn’t mean you don’t have
an answer
why does it seem that those with all the answers
are intimidated by
the questions
My grandson once asked me if we were lost
I told him men don’t get lost
We go on adventures
Someone told me they were offended by an emoji
I told them to go pee on a statue
Talking to an AI customer service “person” is like taking a test where they give you all the answers but you have to guess what the questions are
The AI robot at the super market got canned
She wanted to start a union
When Mom took down the blue bucket we knew what it meant.
We were getting close to the end of the month.
Inside were the canned goods we can use to stretch our food.
Creamed corn, peas, beans- lima and kidney.
Meatless chili, my brother said. A mistake. Our mother looked sad.
One time in the winter when the blue button was empty,
Mom said, “Time to get out the red bucket.” We did not know what that was.
None of us had ever heard of it.
We did not find out for over thirty years it is when she swallowed her pride
And went to her parent’s house to ask for money.
We only heard her speak of the red bucket one time.
But it was in such a sad tone, that although we were six and seven,
both of us remembered it thirty years later when she finally told us what it meant.
Is your go-to lunch roast beef sandwich?
Tomorrow you might want turkey instead
Here is why
In gen. red meat- such as roast beef
Not as healthy as other kinds of protein
Tends to have more cholesterol
Often has more saturated fat
Both things are bad for your heart
Eating too much red meat
May linked to colon cancer
This does not mean
You should never eat beef or other red meats
Just go easy on them
Tasty Swaps
With
Tacos
Try
Fish or chicken
With hamburgers
Try Veggie burgers
With Stir-fry
Try Fried tofu
With lasagna
Try Eggplant slices
With salad
Try tuna or broiled egg
With Breakfast
Try turkey or soy links
With Casserole
Try lentils and rice
With Chili
Try beans (canned or dried)
With Dinner entrée
Try Roast turkey (baked or broiled)
With sandwiches and wraps
Try grilled chicken or hummus
4142013
Granny had osteoporosis
Her bones were brittle
They broke without her even
Falling down or touching something
She was always the one
Taking care of her family
Alive with encouragement
And wisdom that never failed
It came to the point in her life
When she had to have help
To go to the bathroom or take
A shower – even get dressed
Mama fed her favorite foods
Biscuits and gravy, fruit
The things she’d always known
Freshly grown and canned by her hands
Granny was nearly blind
She always sat in the same place
Waiting for her time
She was 89 that year
When her breathing stopped
And she left for her journey
To heaven – I cried for my loss
Because she was better off
Jesus came to get her
It Made Me Think of You
David J Walker
Something
I don’t know what
Reminded me
You are not here
Perhaps it was the pot
On the stove
Like the one you used to
Soak the beans in
Overnight
Before simmering them
All-day
With a ham bone
Shedding its meat
Spreading it flavor
It makes me think of
The savor of
Warm cornbread
Made from scratch
It makes me think of a
Butter and a
Batch of biscuits
Which leads me to
The wild plum jam
Canned last summer
And the day we spent
Picking tomatoes as ripe
As August
And the next week
School started
And everyone looked
Brand new
Something,
I don’t know what
Made me think of you