Long Cola Poems
Long Cola Poems. Below are the most popular long Cola by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cola poems by poem length and keyword.
There is going to be a jump,
the only one that could thump-
in this room of bloom...
What are you doing sitting when you could be a standing ox?
Are they out on patrol as you wann the metal into your soul?
Dive deeply hard Sims-
they made you corrupt,
these are dignities we divide,
they had no name before you arrived-
more cola now,
less socially sane,
yes please ignite the flame,
I said I loved you-
but in due course you became scarce,
the lizards re-arrived to show demise,
every ape was lionized,
I compounded the pedals lady,
they spun in pride,
I evoked medals baby,
I'm sorry they arrived.
I suppose the musings that I shall immortalize upon this page,
Will make it somewhat easy for folks to estimate my age.
But o'er the years it has become very plain to me,
That some things just ain't the same as they used to be!
The times they are a-changin', that I can understand.
Many dandy contrivances have overwhelmed the land.
Most are great for the conveniences that each brings,
But the things whereof I speak are common, everyday things
The lowly hamburger for example, has lost its old-time taste.
Today, you're served a thin, frozen patty prepared with haste!
Haircuts, neck shaves and powder were usual in a barber's chair.
Now, a "hair stylist" creates a disaster with my graying hair!
The cola I savored as a lad has lost its nose-tingling fizz.
A "new and improved" potable was brewed by some college whiz.
How I relished a milkshake made in a shiny Hamilton Blender.
Now, a soft ice cream concoction is the best they can render!
We've forgotten simple phrases like "thank you" and "please."
And "excuse me" used to be proferred with such gracious ease.
Now, I'm all for real progress, I most heartily proclaim,
But, consarn it! Too many simple things just ain't the same!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
An ostrich's eye is bigger than it's brain
Much like some people I know
Snails can sleep for 3 years without eating
I'm ravenous in an hour or so
A pregnant goldfish is known as a twit
That's a sight I've never yet seen
A giraffe can clean its ears with its tongue
Wondering what else it can clean
The youngest Pope was eleven years old
Barely toilet trained they say
Most lipstick contains stinky fish scales
From kissing I'm staying away
Originally Coca Cola was green in colour
It surely turned off a lot of folks
The dot over the letter “i” is called a tittle
I'm not kidding, it isn't a joke
Donald Duck comics were banned in Finland
Coz he didn't wear pants below
Mel Blanc who was the voice of Bugs Bunny
Was allergic to carrots I'm told
“I am” is the shortest sentence in english
“I'm not” runs a very close second
A Saudi Arabian woman can get a divorce
Without coffee in bed from her husband
A “jiffy” is just a hundredth of a second
I'll be back in a “jiffy” as they say
Sometimes it can stretch to an hour or more
So now what would you call it I pray
What's 111,111,111 times 111,111,111
Answer 12,345,678,987,654,321
Now that's AMAZING!!!
I see the Do-Gooders are out in force again
And this time it's the annual Christmas Coke Cola Bus
Stirring up the fuss
Crusaders against any and every cause
No topic to juvenile or puerile to rage against
They want to ban children visiting the Coke Cola bus
Because some children are obese
And as they see it this is there duty to stop
As it will somehow end and solve the crisis
Now correct me if I am wrong
But I have never seen a child
Buying or pushing a shopping cart
Around a Supermarket
With a Credit Card
Or am I shopping on the wrong child friendly day's
It's usually Parents who buy and choose the items in the trolley
And Parents who cook make or feed their kids
What is the point or to what end
Is banning the bus so children can't see it
Going to make a blind bit of difference
And why should everyone have to pay the price
Or is that old teacher's adage
You see now you have ruined it for everyone
Father Christmas
Santa Claus
In all its modern day guises
White Beard
Red Santa Suit
Is a Coke Cola patented trademark
They invented modern day Christmas
As we have come to know it
I know it is crass to say but
Coke has done more to promote Christmas
Than religion or church has
I wish all these Do-Gooding people would stop trying to fix us
Who actually asked them to
And why do they know best
Who anointed them saviors of the rest
The only thing good intentions have ever taught me is
Walk a mile in my shoes
Looking out your warm safe curtain windows
And your rose tinted views
For what its worth
You will never be the same
When you know what the reality of a life of pain brings
You cling on to the small things
Like the annual Christmas Bus
Beside Mum and Dad
Fulfilled and glad
Is that so bad
Bright red is a nice colour to me,
Reminds me of life and vitality;
It is an active, liberating cree,
Which says you can pen your own destiny.
Colour is never lax or passive,
But springs with semiotic meanings,
Evokes feelings energetic or abrasive,
And bright red indeed has very forthright holdings.
Bright red confers happiness and laughter,
And for it there’s always a hereafter;
It reminds me of Coca-Cola and Santa Claus,
Manchester United and road sign laws.
It brings to mind Herbal Essences and Red Bull,
Birds Eye products which have a pull,
The X Factor’s symbol and England’s flag,
Tide detergent and the Walkers crisp bag.
I had a bright red polo shirt,
When I was a hopeful teenage squirt,
Which I proudly wore, so glad,
That could save me sometimes from being sad.
Bright red often makes a statement:
Which is very rightful establishment;
Because to be bold in life is to know,
And to direct can simply be to say hello.
And of course red is the colour of blood,
Pumped by the heart in a rhythm,
Which grips us with love in a flood,
Repudiating hurt and brash schism.
A Violent Storm
It starts with dying leaves that litter lawns
All tumbled over in remorseless wind
Until at last, defeated, they collect
Behind the garden wall in tattered piles,
Discarded on a bleak deserted street
An empty cola can goes rattling past
Entrapped and powerless it bowls along
Its tinny clatter masked by mounting gale.
The clouds, as dark and grey as battleships
Amassed in fury, scud across the sky
Unleashing hail like bullets pounding earth
As scornful weather reaches boiling point
And branches, ripped asunder, turn and toss
Upon the lake that churns and boils with wrath
The hardy waterbirds, they hide in reeds
But where will tiny humming birds be safe?
As nature, wields her power, strength and might.
The storm, a deluge o’er the land has spread
To soak the fields so long deprived of rain
Endowing thirsty soil with healing wealth
Iambic pentameter
In halls of amber light and roasted air,
A silent chill, a tension I can't share.
My love beside me, warm in word and touch,
But from his kin, I don't receive as much.
The table groans with bounty, rich and deep,
While awkward smiles the distant moments keep.Then she appears, a ghost of "used-to-be,"
A welcomed guest, where I am meant to flee.
Her laugh rings free, her place secure and set,
A phantom tie they struggle to forget.
"How lovely, dear," his family beams and sighs,
A brittle warmth within her knowing eyes.
I sip my Cola, a stranger in the fold,
A quiet story silently untold.
My boyfriend's hand finds mine beneath the white, A hidden anchor in the fading light.
The turkey cools, the conversation flows,
A tricky current that only his heart knows.
I wear my smile, though feeling out of place,
A dinner guest who cannot win the race.
For ghost of vows and family ties run deep,
And silent promises they mean to keep.
I'm just the new, while she's the old, the known,
In this warm house where I am all alone.
People will swim murky oceans with man-eating behemoths.
Free climb sheer rock faces in gale-force winds.
Dive headfirst off a cliff into an abyss wearing nothing but plastic wings.
These same people won't go for a walk in the inner city.
They'd rather take a stroll, without caliber, through a lion-infested savanna.
Crawl through deserts and jungles with smirking serpents and panthers.
Ride the green eye of a seventy-foot neck-snapping wave.
We've failed as a society, as a people, as human beings.
We needed to go in for a societal Pap smear long ago.
We ignored the pang in our soul flank for too long.
Now our mojo and soul piss is Coca-Cola colored.
The infection is spreading-now everybody's pissing black.
We needed to take the plastic wings off a long time ago,
Taken a mental inventory of where our hearts are.
Taken a long crawl through the city.
Pluck a weed from the sweet gutter, lick its heat.
Shuck out the smolder before it burns living to the ground.
Ice, ice, baby
You pour me over maybe
A straw to pierce the depths
Inhale the deepest breaths
A fancy glass all fluted
In milky joy I'm rooted
A scoop of whizzed banana
Tastes of pure Americana
The decor is all flashy
Just white and red, not trashy
All dressed up in your nifties
Time travel to the fifties
For teens on scooters suited
All sweetness undiluted
A jukebox in the corner
Soothes away all worldy trauma
Drop a dime to stick a tune on
Whirrs and clicks to drop the best song
Grab yourself a Coca-Cola
Dance in lights from the Rock-Ola
Gals all twirls and frilly knickers
Dudes in shiny winkle pickers
There's an innocence and beauty
As they jive to Tutti Frutti
How we'd love to travel back there
Leaving every burden and care
Just an evening sure to thrill ya
Taste of ice-cold pure vanilla
The Fifties were really and truly not all that square
Though that dullard Dwight D. sat in the Executive Chair
And his frumpy wife Mamie had really bad hair
Matching those dowdy, plain dresses she'd wear ...
While husbands toiled in obscurity for large corporations
The "Ugly Americans," reviled by most other nations
Their stay-at-home wives feeling mostly frustration
Downing "happing pills" daily instead of real medication
Their sons sporting letter sweaters, obedient jocks,
Their daughters in plaid skirts and white bobby socks
Penny loafers and saddle shoes were in for ten years
Along with white levis and coca-cola -- never rum, never beer
Yet how about Krushchev's dust-ups with Tricky Dick Nixon
What about Sputnik 1 and the panic it put us in
And remember George Wallace and old Lester Maddux
Hosing down *******, echoes of Crispus Attucks ...
The rise of brutal pro football threatened apple pie and baseball
Heralding the next decade's premiere spectator sport, i.e., 'spaceball'
Joe McCarthy dug up the dirt of a "red scare's" nitty gritty
In the work of the House un-American Activities Committee
Then there was Rosa Parks refusing to sit in the back of the bus
Championing the yearning for justice in so many of us
And the music, the music, so outrageously wild
Chuck Berry, Richie Valens, the Big Bopper -- that overgrown child
Yes, the Fifties were really and truly not all that square
Though we shan't heed the call of those who'd return us to there