Long Cassettes Poems
Long Cassettes Poems. Below are the most popular long Cassettes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cassettes poems by poem length and keyword.
What can you save when you go the grave?
The answer, my friend’s, not a thing,
Yet the way we behave (and so few of us cave)
Is to add to mementos and cling.
The clothes out of style we’ve not worn in a while,
The souvenirs bought on a trip;
The bills that we’ve paid and the copies we’ve made
Of each document once in our grip…
The books we once read (not much use when we’re dead),
Aging kitchenware, no longer used;
Old cd’s and cassettes – there should be no regrets
If they’re tossed. (Even thrift-stores refused!)
Once-bright towels and sheets, piles of stubs and receipts,
All the playthings of children now grown
Should be given away, so what’s left on display
Are just sparking-joy things that you own.
All this sounds very nice but to heed this advice
You’re much better than I seem to be,
But just take it to heart and at least try to start
(Or procrastinate – that works for me!)
Mr Two step in the name of fame
I regret putting a foot onto your set
I should not of accept all the abuse and lies
That came with fame
Hearing your name only makes me upset and a shame
You know when we first met
I had to bend and sweat to pay off a debt
Lord, I regret putting a foot onto your set
You believed you were a vet
You treated me like your pet
You inflicted harm and threats
You even made dirty bets
Played R/B cassettes just to get horny and wet
Mr Two Step now whose upset
These bruises and scars one could never forget
You played a vicious game of roulette
I bet you will now learn to regret
Bringing me onto your set
It's your turn to bend and sweat don't be upset
Just pray and don't fret
Take me back to when
The only price I had to pay
For drinking piss warm beer
Was all I had to fear
Where the clear and present yards
Made yesterday seem simple
Like popping pimples and emphasizing my dimples
Take me back home to Mum and Dad
And the endless fun I had growing up
With my pet pup
That showered me with love
Take me back to me at 17 evergreen
Praying for a kiss
Acting out for girls
After school on my bike
What must I have looked like
Take me back to records and cassettes
That cradled me to bed at night
The soundtrack of my youth
And my changing fashion's
But most of all
Take me back so I can correct my many mistakes
I so dearly wish I could now replace
So that the old man starring back at me in the mirror
Can live out his days at peace
Like back before my mistakes had taken place
Take me back
I am Farrah Fawcett,
Poster on the wall.
I am a rotary phone,
When I made a call.
I am, Boss,
it’s the plane, The plane.
I am Pablo Escobar,
And his cocaine.
I am Queen with
Freddy Mercury Live.
I am the Bee Gees,
Talking that Jive.
I am vinyl, 8-tracks,
cassettes and CDs.
I am, make love not war,
And Hippies.
I am where is the beef?
Don't squeeze the Charmin.
I am Cheech and Chong
and George Carlin.
I am SNL when it
Was funny.
I am Happy Days,
And a Playboy bunny.
I am M.A.S.H. and
A metal Lunch-box.
I am clackers, tang,
And a Pet-rock.
I am American Bandstand,
Peace signs, and the twist.
I am pay-phones, pagers,
and stick-shifts.
I am, conjunction junction,
What's your function?
I am Patty Hearst and
Her abduction.
Turbo1904
6/8/17
A world full of different colors and shapes
As well as apes
Locations that do or don't sell crepes
Vines with or without grapes
Houses with dark or light drapes
That do or don't have cassettes and video tapes
Near and far from any capes
Surfaces continually getting more scrapes
Each having their own plate
A smile on everyone's face
While one said grace
By a fireplace
Flower vase
And curtains made of lace
Soon everyone took a taste
Then said it was a great
Especially the steak
Later on, all had dessert, which was home-made cake
It's all good if you can't relate
To anything I state
Or paint
A life that is quaint
Currently got no complaints
I ain't
No saint
A lot of things took restraint
Didn't want to let it go to waste
Couldn't always play it safe
Wasn't always worth the risk, and what I happened to make
I can't afford to take a break
Or flake and be late
That'd be more than a mistake
People being honest or fake and like a snake
There's always going to be love and hate
I do more than educate
But hold up wait
Let's get one thing straight
Drake
You were on Degrassi, and I'll put you into your place
See through, not opaque
Soft as a pancake
Grab, pull and throw you out your wraith
I don't care how much your being paid
You can catch a fade
His groupies were in pre-school
(Or their parents, more the like).
At concerts, all his lyrics
Were sung back by every tyke.
We listened to his records
(Way back then, on small cassettes).
When our kids would clap along
That was as good as music gets.
Now 30-plus years later
With our grandson (just past 2),
We watch a younger Raffi
And his power still shines through.
For with YouTube on the iPhone
There’s his presence in our laps
And as Henry watches, mesmerized,
It makes me feel, perhaps…
Somehow time is at a standstill.
What was new once still feels fresh,
Though in truth I’ve no idea today
How Raffi’s in the flesh.
Greeting cards and broken toys
And yo-yos missing strings
Were among the items ditched
With lots of other things.
Marble notebooks filled with math,
A horn that lost its toot;
Bags and bags of memories
All tossed right down the chute.
I’d emptied out the closet
For emergency repair.
It seemed the perfect time to whittle
What’s been waiting there.
Costumes, masks and crushed up hats
From years and years ago;
Magnets, pistols, doctors’ kits
And whistles that won’t blow.
Dusty dolls and lesson plans,
Cassettes with ripped-up tape;
So much stuff so nice when new
But now in sorry shape.
Finally I called it quits,
The salvaged goods all packed
Until they multiply
Then once again, I will subtract!
We’ve all been young dumb
and unaware so has everyone,
we too were the first generation
growing up with tech others hadn’t
I was born last century so to kids I’m old
Born the same year as Back To The Future
predicting widescreen television, video calls,
audio control, using fax but not computer
Fax and pagers have gone away with phone booths,
VHS and Cassettes, everything was fuzzy,
TV pictures Radio sounds and body hair now removed,
My generation inherited rubbish then we got real busy
Everything computerised, compact and crystal clear,
mobile phones sized like part of Stonehenge
couldn’t hear people talk unless they stood within ear
we sped up our evolution, the crap we had back then
Kids don’t stop and think they use what my generation made
As we did too they now joke “you’re so old you grew up in a cave “
My age group are called millennials, children of the millennium,
We watched as those Twin Towers fell and then lost a war to the Taliban
We grew up hearing stories about the “Greatest Generation”
Their finest hour and the few, the honour that lost the Empire,
We used to rule the waves and had the biggest empire in creation,
And we’re just Great Britain and it’s all gone a bit dire
In this age today, “The Technological Revolution”
On the fringe of World War Three, this dick-tator called Putin,
now I’m not saying assassinate but somebody should shoot him,
Because kids today cannot fight, this war will end us losing
100 years ago we really had the might
how did we reach this point, nothing left
but sh**e
we’ve broken down the race divide the sex divide and preference,
“We must see the Russians off or lose our independence”
A future of lost privileges lacking new creations
imprisoned by technology and bigoted racist nation
winning this war will take “The Greater Generation”
should that day come, history must be the most important education!!
We gave Hitler room, it gave him the advantage,
So I say flatten Moscow, and leave Russian cities damaged,
It’s only going to escalate, casualties a plenty,
We should all attack at once, destroy and leave Russia empty
4/27/17
Whether in the North, East, South, or West
On any side of the fence
Things can go from calm to intense
Near and far from incense
On a planet that is immense
Better always use common sense
While events continue to commence
Before and after the sun sets
It just may manifest
Realize next
That steps
Going towards the right or left
Just may lead to success
Or quite the mess
And failure at your own expense
Because all actions have consequence
With similar or different causes and effects
As light rays reflect
In and out of areas with low to high temps
Among colossal objects and mere specks
Above and within the depths
Close and beyond forests considered dense
Things used to try and eliminate pests
Non-toxic or harmful to pets
A hidden cache found filled with bayonets
Cartons of cigarettes
Piles of fishing nets
Old and new cassettes
Dressings mostly caesar, blue cheese and vinaigrettes
As well as cans of soup with letters of the alphabet
Underneath a trapdoor was a chest
Full of things one could not expect
More or less
Near some food that was rotting or still fresh
Had to hold your breath
Because of the stench
Let me sketch
You a picture so you can understand how it went
Down in the trench
With a wrench
And rope of hemp
People were fighting each other to the death
Or sitting on a bench
Had to always do my best
And put forth one hundred percent
Effort with my blood and sweat
In order to one up any threat
Coming at my neck
Or aiming towards the heart inside my chest
By: Dalton Ogletree
A 'Good Old Days Market' sign seen
With arrows that point to the scene;
There hidden by wall
Of stone, very tall,
I ventured and found behind screen,
Some tables with items arranged...
Such irony...somewhat deranged!
There spread out in view...
Still wanted by few...
Remains, by new tech, now estranged!
Typewriters galore, 'modern' style.
Old telephones that you must dial.
Flip cellphones that close...
Eight-track videos...
Oh, such a 'nostalgic' junk pile!
Some huge V H S movie cams,
The weight of two five-pounder hams.
Fax senders...hand fed...
Received...in hands read,
And heaps of outdated programs!
Old Apple computers, diskettes;
Recorders with lots of cassettes.
Fat TVs with tubes,
Old Kodaks, flashcubes...
Those 'good' old days? Gone! No regrets!
Sandra M. Haight