Long Dialed Poems
Long Dialed Poems. Below are the most popular long Dialed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dialed poems by poem length and keyword.
'Twas the night before Christmas and outside blew a gale
Ol' Santa had a brainwave and on his sleigh rigged a sail
He was preparing for what lay ahead, an arduous task
Then waved goodbye to Mrs Claus and put on a face mask.
First he delivered to the all the cities then town after town
But cross winds were now blowing that slowed the sleigh down
He then put down on the highway to dismantle the sail
And the flapping of the sail fabric tickled Rudolphs tail.
Rudolph thought it was Santa and started moving away
But Santa was on the roadside minus his sleigh
The air turned quite blue, ( I wont repeat what he said )
Santa's face was the colour, like his suit a bright red.
He took out his cell phone and dialed nine one one
And told the bemused operator what had gone on
"My head reindeer Rudolph has made off with my sleigh
That's loaded with kids presents for Christmas day".
An all points bulletin was sent out for the runaway sleigh
Santa prayed that the traffic cops would save the day
Cops in choppers were scrambled and to save at any cost
The magic of christmas, that looked like 'twould be lost.
By now Rudolph was getting tired and stopped for a rest
Then the cops in choppers landed, to make an arrest
Rudolph pleaded his innocence and said he didn't know
Then looked behind him and said " where the hell did he go?".
It was all a misunderstanding and everything turned out okay
Sleigh and Santa were reunited and went off on their way
He cracked his whip then from a bottle took a large sup
Told Rudolph to get a move on as the kids would soon be up.
He delivered all the presents and now house lights were coming on
Santa was full of praise for Rudolph, for the hard work that he'd done
He made for home going by the airfield with five crates of elf beer
As a thank you to the chopper cops and to bring them some cheer.
Meanwhile at home Mrs Claus was preparing the turkey
She knew that when Santa got home he'd be tired and hungry
Santa phoned her on his cell phone , she answered "yes dear"
He said "Merry Christmas Mrs Claus and a happy new year".
Written on 3rd December 2020.
Christmas Poems Old or New Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France.
The Night Before New Year's Eve
By Franklin Price
12/30 2015
The Night before New Year's eve is here
The same time for Christmas, a week ago did appear
Time stops for no one does not march in place
As we head for the end it's an annual race
Father time with his scythe cuts the hours of wheat
Baby New Year is coming it's a yearly repeat
Been this way for decades and centuries too
The same for Methuselah as for me and you
Don't think we will make it as long as he did
When he was a hundred he was still just a kid
Just think what he saw in plus centuries nine
Was not nearly as much as what I've seen in mine
The big war had ended .It was in the same a year.
The month of Thanksgiving is when I did appear
No TV's to speak of, no computers at home.
No jet airplanes to fly on, if we wanted to roam
No wireless phones, then were rotary dialed
For our grand kids to use them, would drive them quite wild
All the cameras had film and the pictures we took
Were developed and kept in memory book
Invited friends over our pictures to see
To talk about things; visit us personally
Passed albums around and the pictures were fine
Finished the evening with dinner and wine
Times now have changed, phone and camera are one
No dials and no film, at times increases our fun
Snap a pic anywhere. transmit right to a friend
Don't have to invite them, or on a visit depend
No albums to look at with our social set
They're in our computers to post on the net
Pretty sure it's not better than when back in the day
We invited friends over to look, eat and play
As the New Year commences here's what you should do
This New Year's resolution I offer for you
“I will invite my friends over to talk and to dine
With no phone in my hand just a nice glass wine”
Tribute to those slain at sandy hook elementary school ™
I read the terribly tragic news oh boy
about unlucky kids
at a Connecticut elementary school
thus a spark in me
heavily languished from deadly ploy!
The steely bullets lit
tinder - kindle ling bastard
nemesis illicit throve illicit
pandemonium didst sting
this papa s if his entire being hit
by mortar rounds,
and his mouth hooked dry like sandy grit
from cold bloody merciless killing,
whereby logical explanation does not fit!
Hours after the merciless horror,
(already five years ago)
I dialed me younger sister in bend, Oregon
and over the phone did cry
per wanton massacre
and loss of innocent children,
a part of this dada did die
no matter this papa
of two darling young adult daughters
each day he does espy
open mouth and wide eyed Shutterfly,
how the years of their lives
(And mine) ever faster fly
yet, a figurative stab
to the heart tore up this gentle guy
felt obliged to blubber love for sibling,
while attempting to say hi
whereby psyche rent asunder,
who would sacrifice himself to lie!
asper distraught fathers
and/or mothers heart broken for
beautiful daughters and sons
only thru memories can only adore
from cleft psyche, gut-wrenching,
woefully torment
searing within mind doth bore
recovery from such loss...
Frazzled more than dazzled by her new employer, Mrs. Fries.
This weird job she had taken was worse than her last four tries.
She could not believe they were progressively rude and unkind.
The plausibility of this possibility had never entered her mind.
The boss, an arrogant man, with a concrete crocodile smile.
Would have been surprised to know she had his number already.
His charming manner he could easily increase up and down by dial.
Name of Frederick Pomp Peaburger Junior; we called him Freddy.
He dialed up the dial, and pretended to be suave, debonair and quick.
In actuality, this moron was a Mama’s Boy, arrogant, irritating and slick.
Fries figured this pouting banana out before lunch that very first day.
He was okay seconds until his mouth and his mind got in his own way.
So, Mrs. Fries was on to another job hunt, I think this was seventy-two.
The company fill apart, because Daddy died, and junior was no glue.
The Mama’s boy’s pout got bigger and longer every single solitary day.
Mrs. Fries did not have to see it, for she was squirrelled safely away.
Sear my heart, O rampant rage!
Simmer deep within!
Scour, devour this rusty cage!
What it takes to win...
As below, thus up above?
Not in this fair world.
Raptor hawk, guard well the dove?
Dead man's fingers curled...
Golden sparks to signal?
Attention that will get!
O prospectors, pill or pall?
Does it pay to fret?
No! Indeed not, my wild child!
Red run reconciled?
Crocodile in Nile beguiled?
Doubt and dismay dialed.
Tiled like floors in ancient tower?
Which architect planned?
Nightshade, is thy milk a-sour?
Blighted by the banned.
Is the ocean welling up?
Where the wound began?
Ark of Covenant, thy cup!
Revenant, how you ran!
Mutilation! Mutiny!
Murder in the streets!
Something lurking we can't see?
Have you seen the beats?
Reservations kept for six?
Bring thy crucifix.
Sullen heat out in the sticks?
Candles without wicks.
Fix it up, O soldiers!
We really must make do.
He who survives, first deters!
Ask the wallop hoo...
George Washington chopped down a tree as a lad
Then told his dad that he'd been bad
With the stroke of a pen, Thomas Jefferson kick-started a nation
Touting revolution every so often with his Declaration
Andrew Jackson had a penchant for whiskey
Native Americans found him way too frisky
Abraham Lincoln was thin but brave
Reunited the nation and freed the slaves
As a child Teddy Roosevelt was always ill
But as President he led the charge up San Juan Hill
His cousin Franklin took over in the Great Depression
And then three times won reelection.
JFK and Jackie ushered in 'Camelot'
'Til in a Dallas motorcade he was shot
Ronald Reagan demanded the Soviets end their stall,
"Mr. Gorbachev, please, tear down that wall!"
Bill Clinton said, "It's the economy, Stupid!"
Before he was cut down by Monica and Cupid
And now Mr. Trump draw lines in the sand
Saying, "Let's make America great again!"
And did you know that Yankee Doodle preferred apple strudel
To a leftover dish of cold, wet noodles?
Hope you've enjoyed this reprise of Presidential history
Which to the majority of Americans is an absolute mystery
P.S. Rumors have it that Yankee Doodle is considering a
comeback run for POTUS in the 2020 election.
His slogan reportedly will be, "Make America
handy with Yankee Doodle Dandy."
The "Me-too" movement has already
dialed in death threats ...
It was a younger time,
a clunky age
a dial-up decade.
Not knowing why
or why he should not,
he sent out needy signals
into the vast unseen
seeking worlds
populated with only females.
Many were drawn into his orbit
many failed to respond.
Eventually a divorced lady from
the fabled city of Doncaster
seemed willing
to be drawn into his net.
Sensual seeds were planted
in a garden they both watered.
It was love; it was true.
By an enveloped voyaging
they exchanged
photographs taken years earlier.
For hours, a muted
disappointment fizzed and spun
around a digital cosmos;
both grew distant,
together they dialed-out,
sending new rockets of desire
unto more invisible
yet detectable applicants.
He toiled on the railway station’s platform, A mundane existence, devoid of passion’s warmth. No romance graced his life, no partner by his side, yearning for companionship, he sighed.
He perused matrimonial ads with care, seeking solace, a love story to share. But the pages held mundane cries, until one day, a twist did arise.
The ad proclaimed an unusual deal, “Call us and get two for the price of one!” A tantalizing offer, a chance to healyetet little did he know what had begun.
He dialed the number, heart aflutter, Anticipating love’s sweet mutter. But fate played its hand, oh so sly, For the women he met left him awry.
Two souls entangled in a curious dance, A tangled web of circumstance. He thought he’d found love’s embrace, yet it turned out to be a peculiar case.
Red braids and striped stockings, Cherry lips with white and blue stockings.
Her fabulous smile, those twinkling eyes, He felt like a puppet in love’s disguise.
But alas, the truth unraveled like a thread, Emotional abuse, a masterstroke instead. She withdrew her sweetness, like candy’s cane, Leaving him sticky, icky, in love’s disdain.
Long-distance lover, a bittersweet refrain, He wondered if he’d ever break free from the pain.
He was a boy,
innocent in ways the world
never gave him credit for,
caught in a storm bigger than his sins,
over sentenced to concrete walls
and steel doors that closed too heavy
for twenty-six years of life.
Prison tried to harden him,
tried to carve away the soft edges,
tried to teach him silence,
but he dialed anyway.
Every day,
four, five times a day,
his voice pressed through the static,
“Hey, Mom.”
A lifeline in a place
where men learned to hide their love.
The others laughed,
rolled their eyes,
mocked him for needing her still.
But he only grinned,
chin lifted,
and said what most men
were too hollow to confess:
“I’m a mama’s boy.
You’re just jealous
your mommas don’t love you that much.”
And in that moment,
he wasn’t an inmate.
He wasn’t a number.
He was a son—
calling home,
reminding her
and himself
that innocence wasn’t dead,
not while love still had a voice.
I’m chilling and doing homework tonight. Leaning into it.
Last night one of our suitemates (Julia) turned 21 - she’s barable. Not that we get carded anywhere - I’ve never had trouble getting into clubs or ordering drinks - I mean never have I ever.
She had her birthday party at a place called Mory’s, in New Haven, which is very Yale themed. We ate dinner in the “captain’s room,” where every picture on the wall is a Yale team captain of some sort. They even have a whiffenpoof plaque. It’s so Yale-core it’s funny.
Have you ever heard of a drink called a “Singapore Sling?” Me neither, until last night. Then, somehow, there were undrinkable oceans of it. I had six of them, sitting at a bar and I felt nothing. Then I stood up and my bones seemed to liquify. Leong and Anna reeled me in.
I was hangin this morning though, I mean rocky-socks drunkover. My senses seemed sharper, my optical nerves dialed up all the way. The air seemed bright and I swear I could’ve heard the sun burning if people would’ve just stopped all that annoying breathing.
I had a biochemistry quiz at 9am and I can’t wait to see how I did. Later, at breakfast (I had a piece of toast), Peter felt free to offer his sensible, 26-year-old, bropinion. I said, “You’re so wise,” as I steel-eyed him, “I-guess-you-never.”
Slang…
barable = drinking age
hangin = hungover
rocky-socks = really hungover
drunkover = still a little drunk but hungover
bropinion = a guy's (bro) opinion
I-guess-you-never = you're a hypocrite (but WAY ruder)