Long Cereal Poems
Long Cereal Poems. Below are the most popular long Cereal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cereal poems by poem length and keyword.
The empty bottles strewn all around
Explain the pain inside my head
As I wake up on the pulled out couch
That doubles as my bed
I don't recognize the feet
That are passed out by my face
I suspect they belong to the women's clothes
That are scattered about the place
The cable box displays three o'clock
I don't know if that's day or night
The pantyhose tied around my wrists
Are starting to feel a bit too tight
The spot on the ceiling spins in circles
There's **** playing on my TV
There's a guy eating cereal at the kitchen table
I have no clue who he might be
There's a slice of pizza sliding down the wall
An unlit bong drips on the floor
Two midgets wearing only sumo thongs
Just walked out the open door
There are lipstick drawings all over my body
A tattoo where yesterday there was none
The question that keeps spinning inside my head
Is, "Oh my God, what have you done?"
The naked lady sits up beside me
I am so relieved she looks just fine
She says, "That was fun, can we do it again?"
Sure. What the heck. What's one more time?
Infamy , infamy
Whu does life have it infamy
And how do i know this
May i refer you to merely today's
prime example
Earlier i ordered my regular
Chicken Jalfrezi made bespoke
mild , 3 crackers , rice and
a naan bread
From Saffron my favorite Indian
takeaway
Got home only to find what's
in the bag is this
Not 3 but 1 cracker and
zero naan bread
Ok not a train crash as such
i can still make this work
Until i innocuously knocked
the table
And spilt my coke all over it
So in effect what i had or shall
i say was left with was this
No drink , no naan bread
1 cracker and curry and rice
swimming in coke
And after that was forced
into eating
The only thing i had left in my
kitchen and cupboard
A bowl of cereal with very little
milk and half dry toast
I hear the door open.
It is my chance.
I run up from the basement to
see my darling offspring who used to
love me, sneak out of her room.
She looks up from her cereal.
Is that a growl?
I smile. “Hi!” I say brightly.
She looks back down, glaring now.
The crunching stops.
I take a glimmer of a sliver of a glance at her sketchbook.
surprised. I did not know she was helping herself with
her feelings. I feel heartened. “Can I see that?”
She does not move, does not make a sound.
She grunts.
I look down harder. Perfect likeness of me.
My head has been half-way chopped off.
My mouth is distorted, she is screaming.
There is a lot of blood.
An axe with a pool of it at my feet.
Although this is done only in black black pencil,
I know it feels like blood.
Can I see another one? I ask.
Silence.
You are so talented! I tell her.
You don’t get that from me.
I only draw cartoons.
I am no good at all compared to this.
Your drawing is WONDERFUL!
But she angrily whaps the notebook,
Turning rapidly to the next page.
She and her friends are laughing.
Big loud laughs, wide open wide.
Hahahahaha is written all over the page
In every corner.
She has nailed herself, and them.
I know each one of them.
Tiny image in background
Is the perfect image of me,
Just my head though,
No body or anything.
I see the blood dripping and pooling.
My head on a pike this time.
Just my head.
Perfectly drawn. I recognize myself
Instantly. Wow! I say, “This is TERRIFIC!”
You are so GOOD!
I remember what it was like to be 13.
She is 13 and a half.
Her biggest job is learning to hate her mother.
Push me away, baby.
You have to.
It is the natural way, so you can fully
Turn into a woman. Someday you will come running back,
But not today.
You need to do this now,
So you are able to leave home.
I am sorry about all the things your
Body and your hormones and your
Feelings have to go through to get
There, but this is a start.
I love you, I tell her.
This is wonderful!
Keep this forever.
When you have your own 13-year-old daughter
You are going to really need this!
She stomps off mad, just like she is supposed to.
They say you never leave the house.
It’s a ghostly feeling by the tv.
When you live somewhere and hate it for no reason?
Remembering again and deflating.
And you’re getting cereal again.
And you’re getting things from places all the time.
Whirling.
They say you never leave the house.
That’s all it is.
They say leaving the house will solve everything.
So you packed your bag and walked to the bus stop.
Forgetting your name, but in a happy way.
I need to go somewhere beautiful, and I think this bus will take me.
That’s all there is.
I don’t know my address anymore!
Pack up everything again and again.
Hooray!
It’s a ghostly feeling by the camp fire.
There’s a whole world and I can live in all of it.
Camping on a bench really solved it all.
Blue is a cool color;
sophisticated like a vintage of fine wine.
It is tranquility;
a shiny black diamond in the light-play;
a raven in the sun.
A long sleep for the winter;
a snow white ground reflecting the shadows
of it’s surroundings.
Blue is the taste of berries in my cereal;
my favorite cereal bowl and cup.
a new candy, sweet and crunchy.
Blue is the ocean water and whales and
the sky at the beach on a day of my
summer vacation.
New sandals that protect
my feet from the burning sands.
Blue is a spinning globe in space;
a place called home;
a large womb I birthed from.
Blue is my new jacket,
new curtains for my bedroom;
the carpet that my pets love to nap on.
Blue is music;
a crying guitar singing the blues.
Blue is light and sound and laughter and tears.
It is cool spaces, a canvas sky;
Tranquil and serene.
A color in a rainbow;
Strawflowers in the garden;
my favorite fountain pen.
Blue is peace on a tired evening,
after a rage-red day at the office.
And unlike most people,
when I’m in a blue mood,
it’s a good thing!
It was good while it lasted... the smell of bacon the sniff of a watermelon fresh cut morning grasses. The caressing of my lover living young then growing old together. The whims of the a newborn baby. Those the fluorescent sweet flowers daffodils, roses, tulips, lavender. Though a tear running down my cheek. The calming soothing sweet smells of a babies feet. The warm brightness of the sun on my forehead brighten me. I savor the flavor of chocolate milk butter toast butter rice or sugar in my bowl of cereal standing industry as warm blood runs through it as Jesus parts the skies any people Warring killing and fighting. Many people cry it was good while it lasted life itself but it's much much better in heaven that's what's next be it good or bad happy or sad it was so good, it was good while it lasted...
11/14/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Just Because I Said I Do
Oh this war tween man and fem
Makes so many lift the sword
Turn it into poison pen
Telling all is their reward
He done me wrong
She will say
He wasn’t strong
He had to stray
She left me for another man
I was good, I wasn’t rough
I try to do the best I can
But in the end not good enough
Is always out with his mate
Leaving me at home alone
Coming in, drunk and late
Telling me, not to moan
Always late with my meals
Oh was she a big mistake
Never puts out what appeals
I live on cereal and cake
I wish him, I’d never chose
Is plain for anyone to see
Chides coz I don’t iron his clothes
And loves the dog more than me
All she thinks is, self, self self
While I’m working really hard
Forgets I took her off the shelf
She won’t get no Christmas card
He thinks that I can’t drive a car
Always saying what to do
Someday he’ll take it way to far
I’ll look at him and say, “Screw you”
It started off in wedded bliss
Now it seems there’s no discourse
How could it have come to this?
See you in court, for the divorce.
I’m having the dog.. No you’re not .
Yes I am. No. Yes. No. Yes. No…………
This is purely fictitious and I have
never said she can’t drive a car, at
least not while moving in a
forward direction … hahaha
my grandson wakes up early, excited
on the first morning of our weekend trip.
look grandma, a boat, a bridge...
can I go out and wade in the water
run across the bridge, then ride on the boat?
i'll be good, eat my cereal, drink my juice, please, please.
(not necessarily in that order, I thought. I'm not his mom
so thank goodness, it's not my decision to make.
but his mom and dad are sleeping late, and grandma
is as excited as he, or never sleeps late anyway,
life is getting shorter by the day, why waste it
when very soon, sleep will take forever)
so much activity my grandson is planning for his day,
I'm already exhausted, just thinking of it -
all I want is to soak in the quiet stillness
this peaceful collage of muted hues
the sky, wanting cloud and color, shark-grey,
blue-white and haughty, all blurring together,
in the pale thin light of a new day -
empty, innocent - as yet unsullied -
a universe of somber mystery...
but he is just a child
it will be a lot of years more
when such thoughts will creep into his mind
prefer silent moments than the boisterous
and in his innocence now, as yet unsullied,
I revel in the luxury of his universe.
-
I found myself in a store, you see.
A sign on a box said, "Buy This for Free!"
I thought it so strange, I must confess,
when I saw the label: "EMPTINESS".
Never was I one to turn down a deal,
so, I took it home - my goodness what a steal.
I opened it up and found...nothing there?
In disbelief, I could only stare.
I thought to myself, I think I'll pour it on
some cereal, and wow, it was gone.
Next, I poured it on my family and friends.
I never thought they would meet such ends.
So I emptied the box, which was then full,
and I'm telling you the truth - this ain't no bull.
My family and friends all came back to me,
and my life has returned to normalcy.
The moral of this story might not be clear.
It's simply that if what is not can appear,
what you have, can then soon be gone.
Now, isn't that something to think upon?
I love mushrooms
with eyes peeping out
under their caps, their hats
I love broccoli
with curly green tops
Curly green hair
I love asparagus
with their long slender bodies
and pointy heads
and they don’t taste like grass
I love Brussel sprouts
Little bundles of joy
Bathing in buttery sauce
Lots of buttery sauce
I love carrot juice
Very orange
but they don’t taste like oranges
I love blueberries
in yogurt, cereal or cream
They go good with just about everything
even by themselves
One by one I pop them in my mouth
There’s no singing the blues with blueberries
Blueberries are absolutely my favorite
Not like all those I listed before
'cause I was fibbing
Don’t tell my Mom
‘cause I only like them a little bit
Or not at all
Yuck!