Long Carrot Poems
Long Carrot Poems. Below are the most popular long Carrot by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Carrot poems by poem length and keyword.
My Teenage Birthday Cake
When I was a teenager
a long time ago,
there was a dessert to which
I could not say no.
I can’t say the reason why
it had seemed so great,
for it’s not a cake that I’m
craving as of late.
Those times when my birthday came,
I begged Mom to make
-not chocolate or carrot -
but angel food cake!
Mother made it for me,
for it was my wish -
pink-frosted, served with ice cream,
it was just delish!
I don’t eat desserts these days,
but if offered one,
better than that angel food,
I’d want sticky bun!
April 30, 2018
For Jamie Pan's "Jamie's interesting Contest 3"
Multiple Element Topic:
2. a dessert, a memory, and someone in your family
This little guy in white is tunneling around the place.
He is aware of the many dangers he will face.
There are pookas and fygars situated all around.
Those adversaries can sneak themselves right through the ground.
He gets more points by dropping rocks on their head.
If not, he can inflate them until they burst instead.
Throughout the game, he must stay one step ahead.
Those nasty little creatures would like to see him dead.
Dig dug gets treats after dropping rock number two.
In the middle of the ground, bonuses appear when due.
From a carrot to a pineapple is what he can get.
As many as eight thousand points this digger may net.
The dragon-like fygars pose an extra threat to this guy.
The ability to spit fire is something we can’t deny.
Our hero gets more points when he is deeper in the ground.
I don’t think a better video game can be found.
Colorful cookies, black devil’s food cake,
hot apple cider and cool caramel crunchies.
Carrot straws and more goodies to bake,
a yummy table set with Halloween munchies.
Bring out the brownies and round soulcake,
toffee apples, moon pies, and mixed nuts.
Scatter spaghetti brains on eyeballs fake.
Serve honey nut toes in green gelatin guts.
Tiny, evil faces on purple boiled eggs.
orange cotton candy for banshee updo.
Break out the cups for slurpee kegs.
Time to drink wicked witches brew.
Marshmallow bodies and pretzel stick bones.
Skeletons covered in ghoulish green gore.
Sharp squeaky cheese sounds eerie tones.
Eat till you’re full, then eat some more.
Going Behind A Carrot
A carrot before us
as money house and car.
We go behind it
on the lust on all to have
We loose our days and months
and our health and youth by that carrot
Our sense and wisdom go behind the seller
to have a bit of carrot to have
It is sweet to that second or minute
but so bitter to peace
We may sell devils to cruels
that may ruin many lives in this earth
We may live in luxuries and comforts
we will have to repay for all
Forget that carrot and forget that devil
Think your soul and other souls as you
There is the way and there is the gate
to enjoy a limitless glee and peace
SAKTHI S RAVICHANDRAN
Poverty is a soup.
It's the orange cubed carrot you hate.
And the oily broth you'll skim.
It's the hunger for the wait.
It's the steam that tries escaping
when the bowl's too cool to stray.
And the celery bits' scream gaping
when the mouth's too poor to pay.
It's the gathering of souls
when your heart's too scared to reach.
And the clamoring of bowls
when you're seated next to each.
It's the anxious glance of shame
when the table has odd spoons.
And the handles feeling much too light
to feed what silver ruins.
It's the time you spend while eating
when the others feel your sip.
And the chair you raise while leaving
when you're humbled to a quip.
Garden Party at Noon
Fragrance of jasmine alluring butterfly in spree.
Sweet scent of gardenia whelming bumble bee.
Party people got alarmed on shrill cry of parrot.
Flocks of sparrows chirping, rabbit biting carrot.
Kitten licking milk, bees sucking, sipping honey.
Me watching leisurely feeling frolic funny.
Foliage shivered on kiss of mild gentle breeze.
Touch of zephyr ignites memories gone to freeze.
Strong smelling liquor Feni irritated nostril
Lavender perfume from dress of sweetheart to thrill.
Rhythmic music of Jazz exciting my eardrum.
Voices of noisy populace had also charm.
Dainty tasty starters: barbecue fries and sausage
Sizzling salmon, chicken, sumptuous beverage.
Counted hugs and handshakes crossing forty- seven.
Soft touch of lips of my fiancé reached me heaven.
11/30/19
'Smell, Sound, Taste , Touch Repeat Sense' Contest by Sheri Fresonke Harper
Max the Unicorn had a beautiful mane.
No one in the world had one exactly the same.
It had snowflakes and sparkles, it dazzled like mad.
It was pink and purple, and swirly like the head of his dad.
Max’s mother was a little more common and plain.
And his sister Marilyn was ugly, but she had a fine brain.
He loved his family, and especially Wild, his wooly pet lamb.
Wild had started his own loud, hilarious rock and roll band.
Your family is crazy his friend Pete the Bulldog told him.
Your sister’s boyfriend has a carrot growing out of his chin.
If you cannot say anything nice about Pete, don’t come around again.
Max said. For he was jealous he did not know Pete or his chin.
We used to label our Iowa garden at the end of the rows with seed packets.
We would plant the row first, sprinkiing the teensy seeds and covering them.
Then we would nail the seed packet to the stake at the end of the row.
Like little soldiers we saw peas packets, carrot packets, radish packets.
Lettuice packets, potato packets, green bean packets, rows and rows of them.
Mom always threw in two rows of flowers - usually marigolds and zinnias.
Dad rolled his eyes, but I think he liked them too; we kids did also.
Our table always had fresh vegetables, berries and mushrooms from nature.
The rest of the field next to the garden was left to plant corn. Big juicy corn.
We lived in Iowa, so we never had to label corn; everyone recognized it.
Sunshine tulips lined up in fancy row.
Lilac smiled, expecting a big show.
Orange-tainment provided by marigold.
My colorful garden never gets old.
Dainty lacey dark green carrot tops laughed.
Radishes caught tomorrow’s aftermath.
Purple petunias prance along the side.
Queen Anne ’s lace is renegade, better hide!
Yellow summer squash soon joins pretty fray.
Pumpkins wait for a far off autumn day
Garden magic complete by butterflies
Wasp and bees too most of them not so shy.
Roses are happy with show of the day.
Plethora of colors, lovely sense of play.
Written 4-24-2019
Contest: Urban Sonnet
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Most of the following
words (fictitious) quit
tuss cent shill, knit
head, (non adult tryst) pit
tee full (sorry excuse
for originality), rit
dunk yule huss, feebly
abominable attempt at unit
tarry yen rhyme for excellence,
benignly, essentially,
and honestly wit
less, worthless reading mitt
tear real - dashed off
(by this hare reed rabbit),
wall henna burst of
(playful tulles toy) warren peace,
aye practically spit
out (from inxs of carrot juice),
now dost daringly be hove
brave reeder to comprehend
this dime metrical kickstarter fit -
bawling contrived nada very tit
till late ting, nor
not so great English lit,
and moost unlikely tuff hind
posthumous fame,
worm ma obit
chew wary verb boss
lee probably re:nouns,
(this once upon
a time pablum child),
nor e'en garner this hare reed
ole Jack a one hit
wonder poetic laureate,
nonetheless this
(o' whar did me bunny go),
perhaps to Brit
tin endeavoring merely
to join United Kingdom
(and merrily) writ
for the underground
to test skill at
heart felt fabrication like me,
thus exempting bing
considered, judged,
and labeled tubby unfit.
Now let yours truly whoop
focus to address main intent,
(sans for quick
pick me up)
and nary drop of coffee,
nope not even one molecule
to fill thimbleful sized cup
I reach for bottle of Guarana,
(one serving of
coffee per capsule)
fo' this aging pup,
who attests that caffeine
(liquid and/or
encapsulated), the sole vice
(except for barbiturates, cocaine,
"FAKE" opioid, et cetera),
which overdose nearly found me
nearly a grateful dead – thrice
occasions, where
circumstances of Mus
self (Stuart Little reincarnate -
with an insatiable
craving for cheese
laced with Guarana,
Paullinia cupana,
a climbing plant
in the maple family),
which bean sized seeds
affordable at an acceptable price
many times larger
than puffed rice.