Long Deadbolt Poems
Long Deadbolt Poems. Below are the most popular long Deadbolt by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Deadbolt poems by poem length and keyword.
We (the missus and I) kvell for Katz TOASTER PASTRIES!
I prefer to craft a poem
for no rhyme nor reason
expressing heartfelt pleasure
to our highly refined palate
versus presenting tasty, yummy
and zesty nutritious snacks
exuberant feedback courtesy Tik Tok.
Aside from harkening from Semitic stock
me and the missus
relish those (Katz) gluten free pastries
they give us the oomph to rock
and similar to powder milk biscuits
give us strength to do what needs to be done.
Though no intention to mock
popular Pop-Tarts
(stylized as pop•tarts),
an American brand of toaster pastries
produced and distributed by Kellanova
(formerly Kellogg's) since 1964,
which consist of a sweet filling
sealed inside two layers of thin,
rectangular pastry crust.
In 2006, Mrs Katz decided
to transform the world
of gluten free snacking
for her celiac children.
Eighteen years later,
she retains firm stronghold
courtesy word of mouth watering
salivating (videlicet) Pavlovian
salutary, masterly, hardy,
deliciously crafted wholesome food
clinching dominant market share
analogous to stronghold ala deadbolt lock,
a recipe distributors attempt
to steal by hook or crook,
yet unable to break down fortified doors
after they loudly knock
on one occasion
holding the bakers on their break hostage
pointing culinary harmless
imitation edible Glock,
nevertheless drawing attention
of media camera crews that flock
for breaking shipping news
that harbor standoff
with quasi narco traffickers,
intent to rebrand and sell
Katz TOASTER PASTRIES
as mucked up poor quality dogs treats,
where special op forces
heavily guard the dock
maintaining vigilance around the clock,
to prevent goods held as contrabands
and subject pastry chefs to intense torture
forcing unsung heros
to stay awake 24/7 blindfolded,
so as not to see miscreants,
where ingredients of goodies
sniffed, sifted, and scrutinized
by sophisticated chemical analysis,
and thus I now conclude
contrived fictitious poetic scenario
to share such helpful feedback
in a little ditty composed ad hoc
can boost sales for your company.
by: matthew scott harris
Not much about Goldilocks is really well known,
Except she liked to hang out in the woods all alone.
Of other customs and habits we have just a splintering:
She was whiney, persnickety,
And obviously skillful at breaking and entering.
No deadbolt or burglar alarm could defy her.
A common criminal, then, is how history should try her.
The three bears, that morning, had gone outside to forage
For sweet berries and nuts they could add to their porridge.
On returning, they found this young girl in their bed,
And their first misconception was that she was dead.
Since she also was human, they were somewhat afraid,
But after looking around at the mess she had made,
They debated the question of how they should treat her,
Then took a quick family vote and opted to eat her.
Now, bears are opportunistic, don't adhere to the letter,
And when it comes to cuisine, "haute's"* not necessarily better.
These three had had Muslim, a Mormon, a Christian, a Jew,
And a Tibetan monk, just to mention a few.
But they couldn't care less for religious perversity,
When it came to free food, they were all for diversity.
What they weren't quite sure of was how this one they'd render,
Or was she naturally tender because of her gender?
So heed this warning all squatters, all beakers and enterers,
Before invading the space of homeowners or renterers.
Beware lest your miscreant action finagles a sad end,
Like our heroine,
Who never dreamed, I'll be bound,
She would ever be found with three bears chowing down,
Complementing their porridge with Goldilocks and bagels.
*As in "haute cuisine" (pronounced "oat kwee-zeen"), French for "fine dining".
How often will I turn my head
reaching for your voice
bidding my feet to walk away
(as if I had a choice)?
How long will I eat thunder
-- like I'm squirreling from the law--
guilty and disgusted
throat scalded raspy raw?
How many nights
will my hand
shake
clutching a new-cut key--
opening a deadbolt door
that now is home to me?
How long will I be tethered
to a life without a chance?
You are calm and ruthless
and this heartbreak's just a dance!
I don’t know why I’'m back again--
can't fight off love's attack--
Your eyes burn like blue blazes
And there is no turning back.
V. Anderson-Throop 2015©
Valdez, Alaska USA
There are times the wind will blow a door right in your face.
Sometimes, a door is slammed by members of the human race
There are doors designed to keep some people in and others out.
Sam did not pay his rent; so he was evicted and the door was locked.
Mr. Riley rented the same apartment and was given the door keys.
Some doors have locks on their knobs and also deadbolt locks.
I use to tell my kids, "Until we get to heaven, always lock the doors".
Thieves and robbers will never enter through the doors of heaven.
I once held keys to unlock the doors of banks and other secured places.
I would make deliveries of overnight mail and quickly exit the door.
One morning a bank employee forgot his keys and asked me to let him in.
Without hesitation, I told him "No, it's against policy", and drove away.
If the door bell is in disrepair, there's no choice except to knock, knock, knock.
Sam bought a house, but didn't realize his new home came with sliding doors.
He overlooked 'the door details' in the blueprints of his new home.
So each time he went to check in on the progress of his house,
everything was fine except the doors he assumed were temporary.
He was not use to going through such doors in a private residence.
Sam learned at least one more thing about doors he had not considered.
He was aware of 'door prizes', but learned the hard way about 'door surprises'.
03292017 cj PS Contest, Doors, Richard Lamoureux
Peter Pan Syndrome the most
accurate way to summarize
psychological mindset of yours truly,
particularly as a boy with brown eyes,
who did NOT holistically acclimatize
himself with peers, which insecurity
latched deadbolt draw
bridge guaranteeing Harris
parasite to cannibalize
(figuratively), sans rip
pull sieve flesh eating das guise
nanobot, while clinging with dear life
to mother's apron strings, no surprize
unavoidably, predictably, inevitably,
trauma did successfully burglarize
(more serious than Watergate)
rendering this withdrawn, small size
passive, and docile pipsqueak
human punching bag to other guys,
one puny slip shape lad's bodily statecraft
always ready to capsize
silently suffering lifetime, threatening
afflictions, harming easy target
inculcating aghast fear to socialize
compounded by stature quite undersize
additionally afflicted with minor defect
submucous cleft palate did compromise
vocalization with severe nasality
(iterated previously other poems), where
bullies did zero Kamikaze like to criticize
relentlessly, an ideal
defenceless, friendless,
and helpless "scapegoat" booby prize
scared kid, who stood
stock still cowering in an agonize
zing posture, while my whole felt as if tied
into gordian knot as
"hoodlums" did gleefully antagonize,
yet never confided hostile treatment
to either parent, I wanted to disappear
and DIE, hence escapist wishes aye did fantasize!
Why do strangers put faith in a double yellow line to prevent certain death by collision?
Or why do I believe the ground when planted must bring a day of produce?
I put hard earned money into stock and believe a bull will bless it’s return.
I trust a pension will sustain me when i’m old.
Long term growth will win in the end I’m told.
I easily fall asleep trusting a deadbolt to keep watch in the dark.
My close friends will be there when i’m in need.
Surely relationships won’t fail I concede.
Every day a weather man predicts rain based on science.
And each day a scientist reveals how yesterday’s science needs revision.
But a yellow line is nothing to entrust my life to a stranger 3 feet away.
Neither is a deadbolt sufficient when someone really wants in.
My planted garden gave way to bugs, slugs and hail.
In a day the market crashed and my fortune was proved imaginary.
The next day a virus made travel a risk and also my company pension.
My friends I haven’t seen in weeks and their likes and hearts sort of miss the beat.
So, we have no trouble believing in things.
Unless those things expect change from me.
Then we demand proof, data, evidence and logic. For we are not fools to believe in just anything.
Mid-Day Break-In
Was just about noon
Normal sort a day
Told someone new
To come our way
Suspected not a thing
Blind to the more
Had a good dead-bolt
Lock'n my door
I don't sparkle much
Nothing to draw near
I ain't real fancy
So it would appear
I had nothing to fear
I try not to attract
Nobody noticed before
Besides, I had a good deadbolt
Lock'n my door
In some strange twist
You couldn't resist
You dared travel my way
Staked me out
Broke-in mid-day
Now you just hold on a sec
I say that it ain't fair
My door was secure
You, you broke into here
Didn't even care
I had nothing to impart
Just broke-in anyway
And ran off with my heart
Yes, it was you
No one else would dare
The evidence clear
Your prints left there
I said hold on, it ain't right
All those years I been fine
You had to pick a door
You had to choose mine
Was just around noon
Knew I fallen in deep
When I desired not food
Cared not for sleep
Just standing here staring
At my broken door
Lock and heart alike
Throbbing on the floor
Was a good dead-bolt
Kept me safe for years
Then you broke in mid-day
And left me in tears
What I once knew
I don't know anymore
Mid-day break-in
How'd you get in my door?
Waiting is the greatest pain,
Though most of me remains slain;
Legs propped up on iron heaters,
In my mouth spins an egg beater-
Roughly, duct tape holds it there,
Wrapped around my crimson hair-
Holding in the spinning end,
Tearing so no one could mend.
Will my torturer return?
I cry to think of all I've learned.
Even through the scars he burns,
He says there's more for me to earn.
Waiting, gurgling, and praying,
Burning, yearning, burnt legs splaying,
I can't conceive what could come after,
I resort to insane laughter.
Though I choke on blood and teeth,
Through the smell of my burnt meat,
I laugh harder, my mind flees
Closer toward insanity.
The deadbolt slides, I hear the door:
Creaking, scratching on the floor,
He walks through, I smell him now,
Expensive cologne flows down.
He leans in, I feel his breath,
Then his hands upon my chest,
He whispers one last sick goodbye,
"You won't be the last to die."
Rocky’s Nightime Visitors
By Elton Camp
In a sleazy hotel Rocky decided to stay
But he figured it would likely be okay
He turned the deadbolt and set the chain
In safety he intended that he’d remain
The neighborhood far sure not first rate
But he was tired and it was getting late
Hookers passed outside on the street
But none of them did he care to meet
He went to sleep but heard a sound
That told him something was around
Rocky felt a light touch to his cheek,
And opened his eyes to take a peek
Quite wild eyes he saw looking back
And legs that were slim and black
He wondered what he was gonna do
Easy to handle one, but there were two
Even a macho man like he felt alarm
And had no doubt they meant harm
Although it would give him no thrill.
If necessary, he was willing to kill
They came to his bed totally uninvited
But their presence made him excited
But it was far too risky to let them stay
So Rocky brushed the big spiders away
Do Not Open the Door-
Merely because someone or something is on the other side.
There is no—Back to the Future...
NO redo’s’—cannot always simply just close the door.
Once it is open, nothing stays the same.
Nothing is forever…but there are no take backs also.
Take caution in who and what you let through the door…
Think for yourself… trust yourself…
You must stay your course and not wavier…
When the doorbell dings…Pause a moment and think.
Peepholes are good—peek--see—think…
Don't open the door to strangers and things…
Trust your gut…what you know…
Remember those your mama warned you about…
You can always stand quiet---let them leave…they will
Proceed with caution and care--Be very careful before you
Unlock the deadbolt -- unlatch the chain… Turn the knob…
Is it your Density or your Demise…
Knocking on the other side---
…back to the future… 10-21-2015…the movie…
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao