Long Conditioners Poems
Long Conditioners Poems. Below are the most popular long Conditioners by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Conditioners poems by poem length and keyword.
Bewitched with irri-
tating glows,they ransacks the
purse and 'ijawo'; those rats!
Breaking news;
The Headline: "3 husky rats
ransacking the purse of the nation."
The news: As noted in the
headline of today's consciousness-leaking
news. We'll have to say this with
Annointed regret that 3 hoodlums
With pointed teeths had just robbed
the nation of a frugal amount
of papers. Hence, the federal
government had just concluded to
Deep their anxious hands into the
weeping purse of the nation,with regards to
buying a distilled insecticide
to eliminate the husky hoodlums.
Hence,the federal government has
taken '4 billion naira' to carry out
this operation,respecting the uninterested
interest
of the masses. Here is the news.
N.T.A 7:00pm. Deola......"
Prophesy has come to
pass. 'Ekule Ole' and cray fish
not worth than #5,000. When
mingled and moistured can
conspicously carry out the opera-
tion successfully. Then why
'4 billion naira?'- won't accept this
offer if to me offered.
Such amount for rats?........
Hmmm....these rats!
Who are these rats?-
Rats with two hands,two
eyes,two legs,a nose.
Rat whose glottis is active.
Full of themselves,claiming rights
Graced with deceptive life swimming
and vividly drown in ocean of lies.
These rats!
Leaves their abode at
mid-day,travels to other
forests to hunt riches.
Hunt?..... No!, squander the
riches they've gotten from
the purse of their masters- suffering
masters.
After showcasing their wealth
In those forest. Then,they'll
saunter back into
the waiting cupboard and steal
'Meats from pots', 'Eat some part of
the bread- they're already satisfied'.
They'll resume their usuall relay.
And return the same circle.
Maybe you know those rats.
Those rats on Agbada-mehn!
Driving luxurious jeeps,living
in braw duplexes bewitched with
fumming air conditioners.
Those rats that are always hungry-
contending for post and Ranks.
Buying different PARTS for their
Draining CARS.
Hope you know these rats.
I think we truly need to
eliminate these RATS with
Iron insecticides,pushing them
into the ocean of remonstration
and patriotic regrets. Those
RATS should go through those famished
Bullets!.
Or what do you think?
Hmmm.....these rats!
17:01:09:13:11
I know that all of God's creation serve their good function and purpose,
but there are forces of nature and systems that add fuel to the fire.
They are many and various, and in my neck of the woods, we are
experiencing one presently. They usually come with a little bit of
tease that's never designed to please around late Spring, early June.
No one invites them, but they come anyway like they own the place.
They don't seem to wave goodby to Spring nor say hello to Summer.
They simply show up with a bang, hang around for a bit, and disappear.
But if anyone really knows them, they will surely return in energized bunches.
When the meteorologists forecast their coming, we must not take them for granted. In some places, they are harmful in the 90's, but in other places and regions like mine, we take them serious when their temperatures reach into the century zone. At that level, we waste no time preparing and building defenses against their onslaughts of heat. Heat Waves come, and Heat Waves go, but through the Summer, they are continually coming and going.
A couple of years ago, our air conditional went out in the heart of a Heat Wave. Not cool and Not good. I'm not a weatherman, but my best advisory for Heat Wave versus broken down air conditioners is, "Don't try this at home".
061821PS
Breathe easier and healthier because Autumn has arrived.
Rest O ye weary soul; relax and take a walk through golden lanes.
Easy does it, stretch at high noon; exhale and chill with the sunset.
Autumn leaves are preparing to leave, but not before their golden display.
Take it in, tell a friend, and an enemy too if you have one; all eyes open!
Heaven has no comparison, no rivals, but Autumn is running second.
Tune out the Summer; she's gone and won't be back for several months.
Air conditioners, gifts from God, life-savers, but Autumn bids them farewell.
Kites aren't just for kids; they are feeling the wind as well as anybody.
In my opinion, at least where I abode, it doesn't get better than Autumn.
Nights are coming sooner; the light is compassionate toward the darkness.
God sets the seasons, and when I see trees in Fall, I simply say, "Behold my Father, The Painter".
092821PSCtest, Autumn Acrostic Poetry, Caren Krutsinger
I don’t know that anything about me
is original – I mean, all of my atoms,
I’ve been told, once belonged to some
dimwit creature (hmm...) roaming the earth
long before air-conditioners and Mai Tais...
And talk about Sin! – now that’s an Original
I would gladly give my share away in
a heartbeat; sure as hell, not missing a
cinder of the concept – though, if not the
world itself, I have no recollection of a
bountiful garden...while readily admitting
to having dined and drank with more than
one size and specie of venomous serpent –
But of all my Non Originals, the abiding
presence of love within me is a lineage
I would gladly claim as my own, were I
asked, praying to be absolved of any penance
if untrue. And, if false...then I would claim,
even more vociferously, my uncompromising
capacity to forgive all, thus hopefully moving
existing originals into the Lord's Grace of
Transformative Light.
The meanest Missouri drought ever made us all pretty mad.
No one was happy, everyone gloomy and sad.
Mother Nature was holding us hostage, completely unfair.
There was misery, and dry mouth and mean in the air.
Morning dew was almost non-existent.
Prayer warriors gave up, stopped being persistent.
Children were in bad moods. Animals were dying.
Sickness was rampant, old people were sighing.
Air conditioners were cranked so high all over town,
The electricity in the neighborhoods kept shutting down.
People were sweating in offices, and swearing in their homes.
They were taking it out on their kids, no one seeing the gnomes.
The answer was no, no matter what a child wanted to do.
The dry earth splitting apart at her seems, made us all rather blue.
Alerts were put out, warning us to use as little water as we could.
Rain was something we had forgotten, given up on, dryness withstood.
Gardens were not being saved, they had dried up and evaporated.
This drought was like nothing my young mind had ever anticipated.
Hundred and ten degree days were the coolest ones this summer.
We were all mean and mad, and neighborhood morale was a bummer.
We sat around in our underwear and swore and groused.
We did not want to do anything. Blaming God and Foust.
Some of the few prayer warriors kept praying for rain.
When it arrived to relieve us, we could barely refrain.
We ran out to greet it, we danced and we shouted with glee.
We threw ourselves into each other’s arms, my neighbor and me.
We laughed with relief, and we danced in the rain.
When the rain came to greet us, we could barely refrain!
Time here is measured
by the lint-clogged resurrections
of air-conditioners.
All of us have had to learn
to shout past our souls.
Dulled minds are churned awake.
Fractured nights slumber on
beneath the rocky rumble
of nearby ice-machines.
The ‘Marigold’
is unmarried, divorced and abandoned,
but for those still not seeking lonely
there are midnight do-overs.
Behind the days horizon
a desert sky still thirsts
in the mouths of discarded shoes.
Firey sunsets melt
a stale residue of bedside booze.
The Marigold is mad, it was built that way,
its identical rows of doors
are designed to be portals
to yet more distant parking lots.
We internees prefer our rooms
to be dead to the daylight,
though every night
they will always revert
to storage units
for long imagined - much better times.
she walks into the room
the same way she has for 40 years—
half-asleep mumbling about the price of eggs
but crap, she still makes my heart stop.
you’re the last busted payphone
that somehow still dials home.
you’re the only damn thing
that still makes sense
in a world full of unpaid bills and
broken air conditioners.
your heart’s a busted radiator
still kicking out heat when I need it most.
The cigarette burn on our old kitchen counter—
scarred in, not going anywhere.
hell, you’re a rusted-out truck that
still starts when the whole damn world’s frozen over.
we aren’t perfect but we lasted.
and that’s better than any damn valentine poem.
94 degrees
and rising
4th day in a row
Vegetation is turning yellow
Flowers are wilting
Tempers are rising
Air conditioners are cranking away
TVs are blinking
People sit idly in chairs, not moving,
staring at screens,
mesmerized,
until they fall asleep
Too hot to garden
Too hot to clean
Too hot to neighbor
Everyone is hiding
inside like they do
in the winter
when it is too
cold to go outside
We are held hostage
by our weather.
Why do we live in
a climate like this?
Our children are
here, or our parents.
No other reason
unless it's our jobs.
Money is important.
I consider my hair my crowning glory
it is very very long blondish and straight
and I pamper it every single day
so, it is soft like baby hair
I have smooth and silky shampoo and conditioner
different types of scented detanglers
leave in conditioners for an extra silky feel
brushes and combs that will not break my hair
I wear very little makeup
just pink lipstick, blush, eyeliner and mascara
'cause I like a sort of natural look
I love how my hair blows in the breeze
and how it swings in dance class when I twirl
people tell me how pretty it is
even strangers will stop ask what I do
to make it so nice (I give it love)
some even say is it real
and I say just tug on it and you decide
since a little girl I have had long hair
I have pleasant memories of mom brushing it
sometimes, even braiding it
but nowadays, I just let it be long and straight
that's what I like . . .
Only early July the summer heat is brutal
days will over a hundred degrees in the shade
The evening does little to cool, her breezes warm
So hot the stars seem to melt away as the moon crisp
to a golden brown, the ground thirst rived with cracks
as your clothes feel like loose skin layered onto your wet body
by the sweat from the sweltering punishing summer heat.
The sun does not shine it scorches and burns
delicate plants wither their leafs browned
Never enough water for any life abused by this heat
In direct sunlight you feel your skin burning
you sweat excessively, you are drained and fatigued
as your soul exhume itself from your body
ounce by ounce drop by drop dripping away into the
shinny shimmer glimmer of the horizon as it dives
into the belly of hell to cool itself off.
The refuge of indoors with fans blowing and air conditioners
churning air that neve feels cool enough.
Too hot to sleep, too hot to eat. Your will to work
long has evaporated into the glorious magnificence
of the mighty harsh Sun.
Outside the world becomes an oven baking away
sizzle and crackle of life itself buckle by the summer heat
Long pass the cold of December snows, so far from the freezing
of January. In my youth we played outside in this heat
riding bikes, roller skating, swimming at the public pool.
Drink from the garden hose cool off with the slip and slide
Mother would bring out a pitcher of ice Kool Aid.
Summer tan us brown as we spit watermelon seeds
for fun. We didn't even have air conditioning until I was ten.
How did we do it back then? it was just as hot, we were not as soft
You just lived life as it came and made the best of it.
No complaining, no worries, just living day by day
and those hot summers were expected and okay.
Race you to 7-Eleven for a Slurpee.