Long Dark glasses Poems
Long Dark glasses Poems. Below are the most popular long Dark glasses by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dark glasses poems by poem length and keyword.
GRAVIDAS EARTH
the turntable in a whorl, my thumbprint
distinct on 45’s and 78’s and the cover
near the door, spewed upon - i forgive
you my roommate-sister, it’s only cardboard.
afterall, how’d we know, the future would auction
our records, flatsie and dawn dolls, past 2000 —
we couldn’t even imagine. i’m way off track,
follow the grooves behind me, the moves
that define me, the hairstyle without mousse,
cut and blown as i run, always run for the bus.
i’m still running but I’m never late. out the door,
down a couple steps of baked cement — i
think there is a porch now — i could sled the snowy
drive, steep but the road’s at my feet so i walk
with a heavy plaid coat and snazzy boots to
the stop. one highschooler didn’t stay long —
he caught the bus to another place, no time to wave.
the road named after his kin. the bus arrives,
don’t miss it a bit — so loud with its popular crowd.
the school had a fountain, where we’d wash our hands
where the restrooms were still for boys and girls.
our physics teacher gave us speed, well the formula, as
we hoisted ourselves out the window with ticker tape —
did i say i, no - not i, I wasn’t brave enough, not
ready to die. but a boy whose daddy taught biology
drowned in the clouds of a lake. i mixed his tears
with my own. why cherry pick
the incidents of the oldest kid — she lurks in shadows
remembering the haunts of others. Lexie C gallops
with her friend the horse through the valley of our hearts.
she’s the queen that sat beside me in French class.
she deserted us after graduation, taking a one way road
to her heavenly destination.
she will always be young with Scarlet’s hair
and dark glasses, missing what the rest of us learned
in our education on this gravidas earth.
7/2/2019
*Scarlet refers to Scarlet O’Hara of Gone With the Wind fame
IF LOOKS COULD KILL
My dearest darling delectable Medusa
I was wearing dark glasses on the day we first met
You wanted your hair done, but it was no use-a
as venomous snakes should be treated by a vet!
It was obvious that you’d once been so pretty
But you’d been cursed by that wicked Athena
Then been banished from town and the city
Your beauty gone; Athena couldn’t have been meaner!
I love to caress your angel like wings
As writhing asps kiss your hideous ears
You’re the one who pulls at my heartstrings
I’ll be your love throughout our twilight years
One look from you can turn men to stone
I wear dark glasses so it doesn’t affect me
My love for you has blossomed and grown
We’ll be together forever for eternity
Sponsored by Viv Wigley
Love letter II Contest
3/24/18
He was always dressed in fashion
And as he walked down the street
Not many people noticed
That he’d got both left feet
He wore wide flared long trousers
Boots with very square toed ends
They caught on in clubs
The latest fashion trend
He could have had many lovers
He’d never ever have to beg
But he was conscious of
Also having two left legs.
When he’d put his human suit on
Just before he’d left his little ship
He’d not really bothered
It fitted badly at one hip
It was the first time he’d worn it
His first visit to the human race
And he was far too busy
Admiring his human face
He had to adopt very dark glasses
When he’d found to his surprise
Very few of the natives
Had different hued eyes
And he wasn’t being really very picky
After all he was just a very junior erk
But he did think it bad
One arm didn’t work.
It was an ill prepared mission really
But he stuck it for a full earth week
Only giving up when he
Found he couldn’t speak
It was poorest of mission preparations
Couldn’t be really classed as bad luck
That the human race
Really didn’t cluck
So they forged all the reports
Lied for all they were worth
Nothing worth having
From the Planet Earth
Then they’d hidden in the asteroid belt
Watching hot films he’d stolen in Rome
Until it was that time
To proceed back home
They’d received a hero’s welcome
Reception with a large brass band
And were declared
Heroes of the land
Because of that stupidity
We have the currrent situation
Where Earth remains a backwater
Not joined the Galactic Federation
Remember how you said,
I would never make it?
Remember how you bragged
I would not survive?
I might be a bit battered
I might be a bit bruised
The mirror don't lie
It uncovers the lies
I walked away with just my clothes on my back
I walked away with my pride intact
You have stolen my innocence
You have stolen my humanness
But you did not break my spirit
You did not break me,
I can still keep my head up high
I don't have to hide behind dark glasses
Today I look the world in the eyes,
embracing a new life without
the unexpected brutality that
came with you when you entered my life…
*not a personal write, just a subject I feel strongly about*
Word Sonata in B Flat (in 5 Movements)
You know exactly what you’re doing.
You sit in that short red skirt, and
Cross your shiny tan legs, there. Now you
Lean over with full cleavage exposed,
And partake in another draw of smoky seduction;
You can see the dollar signs in my knowing eyes,
And I can see lovely times at poolside,
In your short skirt, and dark glasses.
So cheers! To us, just a couple of cool cats,
Two old hippies,
With lemon drinks, glass bongs, and feathered toys,
Conversing wordlessly in eye language,
Under the searing unzipping sun,
Embracing the approaching nakedness.
Laying out in a chaise lounge with white noses,
Just drying out our souls and bodies,
Drying out our differences with the holding of a draw.
Pass it over here sweetie.
I feel it too, as you sit there,
Staring at me like I’m the package you were expecting,
Last week when the mails didn’t come through,
Due to the storm, and the mud and the misery.
I enjoy women like you.
As you sit there in your short red skirt.
There is a mysterious gloss covering everything you say,
A gooey gloss that smells of electrical wiring,
Something that might make a person sick,
Or maybe bring back a stubborn memory you forgot about
For decades, because you were lost,
Lost inside a rolled-up carpet,
An old rain-ruined rug from 1958, or so,
When times in the backseat meant something to a person.
Now look at us, just a couple of cool cats,
Two old hippies,
Bored and resigned,
Passing reefer until the stoned moment is realized.
Yes, just sitting here looking at you,
I can tell,
You know exactly what you’re doing.
Linnie and I are going for a ride
in the big back seat of our '50 Chevy.
Momma is up front, driving
with the two blind ladies
sitting next to her.
Alene wears a big, bright
scarf around her head.
She carries a long, white stick
with a red stripe at the bottom.
Her eyes look funny
but she is nice.
Lou wears big, dark glasses.
Momma says she can't see at all.
Lou clings to Alene, and talks a lot.
At the grocery store
Linnie and I help momma
guide the ladies around.
They like to walk arm in arm
together.
Momma says Alene and Lou
need our help.
She says God is happy
when we help others.
Momma looks happy, too.
Linnie and I had a good ride.
9/1/2015
For Through The Eyes of a Child contest
Mummy took us to the zoo
she hoped it wouldn’t bore us
In truth I think that mummy knew
we’d see a Brontosaurus
I stroked a small Triceratops
it had a tiny pink horn
I fed him all my chocolate drops
the keeper eyed me with scorn
I kissed a Tyrannosaurus Rex
When I climbed a big step ladder
Mom did all the safety checks
else the keeper would get madder
We were chased by a big Diplodocus
I could hear him snapping his jaws
Then he turned and he winked at us
and began to lick his huge paws
One dinosaur wore dark glasses
and tried so hard to ignore us
His breed no other surpasses
it’s a Doyouthinkhesawrus!
DINOSAUR(S) - FOR CHILDREN Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
3/7/19
In her sixties now Gladys dreaded the cold,
She travelled to the beach trying to be bold,
She went because it might be fun, she was told.
Gladys said she would not swim she was far too old.
There were gentle ladies with dark glasses on,
They were telling rowdy children to begone,
The sand was warm and the glorious Sun shone,
Gladys sat there like a sad queen on her throne.
Mountains around gave views that went forever,
The sky was light blue a sign of good weather,
The children throw sand failing to be clever,
But Gladys said no she would not swim ever.
Near the river people had cake and white bread,
They had beef and pork, “hurrah” the children said,
Some drank wine and sang when they were all fed,
Gladys said no she would rather go to bed.
Gladys was left quite alone on her cane chair,
She began talking to the warm midday air,
I should swim in the sea but I do not dare,
My grey hair would get wet but I would not care.
For the longest time she stared at the wild sea,
Wondering why she was so afraid to be,
Was her life long enough for validity?
Some come to the beach to cocoon and be free,
Others come to escape their life’s misery.
the sun is mean here
it’s too bright
and i don’t mean smart
it shines in my eyes
i have to wear dark glasses just to drive
yesterday it burned my skin
but today i am ready
i’m wearing lotion
spf one thousand
if that doesn’t work
i’m wearing my long underwear
of course the sun will make me sweat
it is a nasty vengeful sun
i’ll be all wet
i am going to wear it down
that’s the wrong spelling of wear isn’t it?
with all this heat i can’t think
sun stroke maybe
i'm fed up i am going to get rid of it
i'll look mean
scare it down
i'll make it go away
oh my goodness
it’s working finally
the sun is leaving
the sun is gone
hurray
oh no
i can't believe it
look
the sun
it just mooned me.
bomber jacket, dark glasses
blown out hair,
faded jeans that fit me slim,
brown leather belt and shoes,
a dangling cigarette between lips,
is how I would fancy look!
Reality is something else,
and what I look is more like this…
A T shirt straight out of wash,
never seen the underside of iron,
crumpled to show how the machine spins!
trousers broad fit that struggle to stay
at the waist, with a belt that fails to grip,
the colours of these never match,
and the shoes are ones that were
quick to reach, and the result is a
riot of disagreeable colours!
who cares!!! That is me!
When I walk, my wife walks with me
separated by a hundred feet,
with her impeccable attire that
compliments every fraction of her,
with lipsticks to match!!
Style of clothing do not make a man
but they seem to make a woman!
Reality of life is mismatch of things,
that we learn to love and to live with!
That is why we have been married years!!
our distances in clothes is bridged by
our deep understanding and love for
each other! And when this love really
gets to work- we often discard our clothing!!