Long Done up Poems
Long Done up Poems. Below are the most popular long Done up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Done up poems by poem length and keyword.
She calls you up and speaks your name
you change your plans like that
Now you'll never get through
what you started to do
Intentions all squashed flat
She walks in from the bus stop
her feet are soaking wet
In fuzzy slippers, flowered shawl
and burgundy fish nets
Her braided hair is frizzy now
done up black and red
She takes your hand and kisses you
as she pulls you towards the bed
She spills her chocolate milkshake
with a fling of her free arm
Her clumsiness just makes her mad
but it’s all part of her charm
She flits happily about you
like a dainty butterfly
And views the world in wonderment
forever asking why
There’s a playful charm about her
that helps set her apart
She's a beautiful distraction
who's out to win your heart
FOR NATALIE written about my youngest son's girlfriend
Faster than two ducks
slick on the street or what
Wet on the Street or what
wet tires on a motor
Mothers on a motor
the street or what
up the come up
in up nothing hoe
in all done up
hoe says she wants to be my friend
I love that hoe too.
Help with the difference
help me understand
If there was one
day I remember
more than others
is the day of mothers
and valentines
Battle lines, battles lost
Battles the Boss
Battle Eccentric
I like to interprut
I like to get into it
rubber nuts
burning rubber up the gut
the main street gets smoked up
big thrasher what are they after
the green light
At the Factor
In the Clean Night
The road is wet and Ive
I lost my sight
I cant fight the speed
Its Heavy Baby
two tons of Gravy
Suicidal and homicidal Behavious
Hit the Gas cause
the breaks will save her x2
She aint late she,
Be there Later, riding
street in squat reliefit dont knock its a beast
It just Knocks the street
See them…
in the street light,
done up…
for a hot night,
made up….
like a French whore,
skin tight…
on a dance floor.
Their men keep coming,
the richest in town,
end up laying all
their money down.
Got no pity
for all of these clowns,
’cause I know…
I have got the best, girl,
they have got the rest,
I’ve got the brass ring,
they, the hot mess,
I’ve god the good times,
they got the stress,
they got high maintenance,
and the sh-t tests.
I ain’t tellin’ no lies girl,
you’ll always be a prize girl,
this I’ll testify, girl,
I’ve got the best.
See them…
posting online,
pictures…
their job full time,
chasing…
celebrity,
that stuff…
just ain’t for me.
Sad man keep coming
and wasting their pay,
dreaming they might
get with them some day.
Got no pity
for the games they play,
’cause I know…
I have got the best, girl,
they have got the rest,
I’ve got the brass ring,
they, the hot mess,
I’ve god the good times,
they got the stress,
they got high maintenance,
and the sh-t tests.
I ain’t tellin’ no lies girl,
you’ll always be a prize girl,
this I’ll testify, girl,
I’ve got the best.
Against the grain,
we just aren’t the same,
their games insane,
that sh-t is a pain,
let’s make it plain,
you’re taking my name,
they’re all that’s vain,
let them go down in flames...
Quiet, strong, and true, girl,
the bedrock of my whole world,
they’re fake diamond to a pearl,
no, they have no claim.
I have got the best, girl,
they have got the rest,
I’ve got the brass ring,
they, the hot mess,
I’ve god the good times,
they got the stress,
they got high maintenance,
and the sh-t tests.
I ain’t tellin’ no lies girl,
you’ll always be a prize girl,
this I’ll testify, girl,
I’ve got the best.
Man, seldom a straightforward animal,
Long lost in the deserts of weariness,
Wants to flee from a life of denial,
Wallows no less still in piles of warm ash,
And feeling hurt, he nurses hidden strife,
Busy harming the self his very own
With some weird philosophy of life
That plunges him in world to him unknown.
World’s in world-wide pain as per German tongue—
Weltschmerz, modern word coined by Jean Richter,
And weltanschauung, one more and also young,
A vast field where the world’s lost in welter.
We see pain, angst in many urchins’ eyes
That beg for crumbs and still cherish a dream,
A look that child's raw innocence espies
Still, aims one day to claim his choicest cream.
Eyes of a house-help show this no less clear
Than householder’s deeply dunk in hardship,
Both dream of making good, both gag a tear,
None of them knows to laugh nor freely weep.
Take daily grind— working in rank odour,
Pitiable public passage, crowded
Journeys, jostles—the rush for earning bread,
The woes of world seen seldom ever ere.
Take a mid-age man, ill at ease, in mime,
And women, hair-dyed, face done up, pushing,
Prancing, pretending having a great time,
What with sad eyes, drunk or doped still showing.
In false bluster, all these men and women,
Unable, woes of their harsh life to change,
Mock at the dangers in a disco den,
And behave in ways bordering on strange,
Running away from reality's face,
Hiding their pain, they try hard to escape—
Escape from this never-ending rat-race,
Yet, cannot stop this reality's rape.
The truth of truth: we all passengers are
On a galloping horse on hire, Desire,
Maverick, even as a movie star,
Rich much as poor, all plunged in a deep mire.
Fortunate few that might face no travails—
The rich Americans— spending today,
Which, for long years their progeny might pay,
Who’d survive this rat race that all us ails?
They that cherish weird dreams and chase mirage,
Not else but very own future mortgage.
________________________________________
Ode |05.10.2011, revised, June 2023| dreams
Poet’s note: Weltschmerz: (welt = world, schmertz = pain), apathetic or vaguely yearning outlook on life, and weltanschauung: (welt = world, anschauung = perception), philosophy of life, conception of the world.
Oodles Of Google Doodles...
visually delicious as germane strudels
the following cooked years ago
courtesy me noggin awash with noodles.
Yours truly crafted remaining poem
around 27th July 2018
idea arose within me cerebral dome.
...As poetic theme came to mind
in a Serge without a waiver
thus, I took a virtual Page
from Google LLC to slaver
with little effort
in an acceptable
rhyming rant and raver
about said American
multinational technology company
that rode dot com bubble,
where other startups did quaver
specializing in Internet-
related services and products
rolled out amidst
much fanfare palaver
though odd, how such an obvious
idea hit me like figurative brick
over thine noggin
upon instantaneously espying
Lyudmila Vladimirovna Rudenko
Soviet chess player, and second
women's world chess champion,
from 1950 until 1953
when bitta bing bitta
chitty chitty bang bang
that eureka momenta did click
mental wheels and cogs
as if...an oil derrick
hit a mother lode, thence subsequently
inducing automatic flick
as latest feted persona grata
gets done up in bold face and/or Italic,
nonetheless a commendable
spontaneous fantastic burst
of inspirational magic
commensurate with mine
modest prolific quixotic
of course, I WON'T applaud
idea de jure as terrific
and puzzle over, how such "a ha"
brilliant idea did not occur to this -
Ok la home ma sooner
ushering world wide
webbed trumped "FAKE"brouhaha
sooner to the mind
of this humble caca
Louie, who admittedly
feels tidy bowl flush with
goo goo Lady gaga
(tony the TIGER FEELING great,
a mild euphoria if gifted
as lottery winner)
over the top smugness -
unaware of jeering ha ha ha
within dark internet arena,
where the much maligned,
loathed, and feared Jaw
bar wall key (jabberwocky)
dwells ready to pounce
outsize egos hated
like an incorrigible outlaw
hmm...perhaps cognizant
ex post facto, I set
a deadly faux paw
forever remembered as
ornery oaf forced to eat raw
bits (hexadecimal at that!)
sucked in via last turkey in straw
that broke the camel's back.
?
/ \
/ \
_| _________|_
| |
| |
i felt like a princess
going off to the ball
dressed to the nines
my hair all done up
in ribbons ‘n curls
glittery earrings
long silky gloves
ran up both my arms
i put on my glass slippers
hoped to be swept off my feet
and dance the whole night away
the length of my train sway and sway
i got to the venue the music delightful
soon i was spinning whirling and twirling
a prima ballerina pirouetting and waltzing
showing off all my very best ballroom moves
i swept the floor as wide and gracefully as i could
all night rock ‘n rolling in rhythm ad libbing freestyle
the orchestra was on fire with hits one after the other
out of nowhere the stroke of midnight did surprise me
so i picked up my dress finding the exit as quick as i could
executed a quick curtsy and reverence before disappearing
AP: 2nd place 2025, 3rd place 2020
Submitted on February 20, 2025 for contest POETRY COMES IN ALL KINDS OF SHAPE sponsored by VANYA EVANGELINA - Honorable Mention
and December 18, 2019 for contest N-A RERUN 4 sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON - RANKED 3RD
I opened the box lid to the land of dance
Which is located in a beautiful velveteen square pink box.
A magnificent place where a fantastic palace shines
In the center of the palace is the world's greatest ballerina
Who is done up in pink satin with an over lay of lace.
The ballerina can see her image from the palace in the crystal clear mirror.
On the back of the lid which makes each dance to her very dear.
The ballerina holds up her hands gracefully in to the air
In the ballerina's mind she is going over each and every dance as she practices
Long in to the night.
You must love to dance with all your body, mind and soul
For there will never be a second chance.
When she rises up in center stage she will be the one in charge of the dance.
Also in the ballerina's mind is the music which she must know by heart.
So that her body flows with the song that makes her look like
She is floating in mid air like a piece of art.
The way the ballerina dances by showing no fright,
Is just as important as the executed jumps done in their full
height.
All of her turns have to be just right.
Then all your audiences attention will be for the one who is
Dancing in the light
For this ballerina wants to shine like a star just as bright You'll find that she will give her audience nothing but pure delight.
After the key on the side of the box has been wound tight
The ballerina will dance with all her might.
To a little girl this ballerina in the jewelry box is a gorgeous
Sight.
Form:
Phytonutrients: They
Cabbage and Turnip Greens
1 tablespoon of basil
1 tablespoon of5 cups of sliced onions
5 cups of sliced red bell pepper
10 cups of sliced cabbage (shredded)
2 cups of turnip greens
1/2 cup of garlic minced
1 can of tomatoes diced
-------------------------------------------
(carmilize in a 350 degree oven for 35 to 45 minutes)
2 cups of chopped turnips
2 cups of cubed sweet potato
5 cups of diced cubed white potatoes
---------------------------------------------
9 cups of picnic shoulder broth
2 cups of chopped picnic shoulder fat and meat equal parts
8 Italian sausage casing removed
in a very large pot add pork fat
sausage and pork,
onions, garlic,, bell pepper
let it sautee for 15 minutes.
add broth
and cook turnip greens
at least for 60 minutes check tenderness
add potatoes cooked turnips, and cabbage cook until the cabbage is done up to 15 minutes.(store bought or home made Potsteamers#30)
reserve some of the pot liquer from the turnips and cabbage
about 3 cups- in a steamer of collender with a pot with a lid
allow to pot stickers to cook0
serve turnips and cabbage with the potstickers!
You are sexy so you flaunt
Your body around and want
The attention from all guys
They are staring with big eyes
When you walk across the room
Their heads turn and start to zoom
In your direction with such ease
All they want to do is please
Every whim and wish for you
But you do not have a clue
There is just one reason they
Act in such a crazy way
The tight skirts, pants, even dresses
Turn them into nutty messes
Makeup covering your flaws
Painted nails look like claws
Hair is done up with such flair
Thongs instead of underwear
They don't see the realness
That is hiding behind this
True beauty is not in boxes
We can still be real foxes
With our kindness, acts and hearts
Not with fake and store bought parts
Look inside and bring it forth
Then you will find your true worth
The Cathedral in the pines is in the
Mountains high.
Looking up in to the sky
You'll see leaves in the trees
Joining like hands above
As the sun shines through them with its rays
For a few minutes It will take your breath away.
I felt the hug.
The green grass was a beautiful soft rug.
The soft music being piped in
Kept down the din.
People sat on wooden benches to pray
Or dropped money in
A metal box tin
That was attached on to the side of a tree.
Before the altar you could see
People on bended knees.
Beyond that the river glowed
Like blue shappires as it flowed
Down below.
Gone was my wrath
As I walked down the path.
To see the graveyard
That looked hard
All done up in gray
Where relatives lay.
There wasn't a sound
As I sat on the ground.
Here I found
Peace, serenity
And tranquility
Which just goes to prove when life is
Howling like a hound
Listen quiet can abound.
It was all around.