Long Dryers Poems
Long Dryers Poems. Below are the most popular long Dryers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dryers poems by poem length and keyword.
In another lifetime, I was there
As sudsy clothes, a’jumble,
Went round and round until removed
In damp and twisted tumble.
Into the dryers they would go
While I just sat there, reading,
To help the time go by so boredom
Skulked away, receding.
When dry, the folded sheets and such
Into my cart were nestled
And schlepped to my apartment,
Up five flights I daily wrestled.
We moved within a year to where
Our building’s basement hosted
A bevy of machines to which
An elevator coasted.
Yet when I pass the laundromat
There’s surely no debating
That I don’t miss those days of carts
And inconvenient waiting.
We live as kings and queens of yesterday could only dream
Central heat, plumbing, air-conditioning, washers and dryers too
We shower once or twice a day, with conditioner and shampoo
Steak every night should we want it, followed by cake and ice cream
So why all the self-absorbed anxiety? Why all the alienation?
You'd think we'd be glad of more time to exercise our imagination
Difference is royalty had servants who responded to their every command
Kings and Queens had lively instantaneous conversation on demand
Dependent on machines, woe are we
Leading emotion-free lives
of people-less poverty
As a teenager, I was so lean and lanky.
My mother worried over my physical stature.
She believed that all the nutrients in my diet,
were rapaciously devoured by my hair.
From childhood onwards, I had long, thick hair
that cascaded down my back like a jumping cataract.
Each time I got ready for school in my uniform,
my mom had trouble plaiting it into two pigtails.
After school, it took much of my time to tease apart the strands,
release and unbind, what my mom had so neatly done.
She wanted to cut my hair short, I too agreed
as it took so long for me to have my hair dried after every bath.
(It was a time when we had not even heard of hair dryers!)
When I conveyed my mom’s decision to my friends,
they said in unison- “Your long hair is your sole attraction,
we are all jealous of you for it. If you cut it
you’ll be like a sheep after its fleece is sheared,
Oh, so ugly”
My hair was straight like stick, black and glossy without even a curve.
I was so upset about it as curly hair was what everyone preferred,
in a village without the ‘refinement’ and sophistications of urban life.
After every long journey, I had to spend hours clearing the tangles of my hair.
When I entered college, my hair became my distinguishing mark.
All referred to me as ‘the girl with long hair’ and it became my identity.
Girls from cities had begun frequenting parlours for straightening their hair
I was happy I had natural straight hair without recourse to artificial means
Thus, for the first time, I began feeling proud of my hair.
I spent hours before the mirror, admiring my hair and tying it in styles, varied.
Also started wearing it with my chin up and flaunting it unabashedly.
When I joined college as a lecturer, I could hear exclamations of ‘wow’
from my students, whenever I turned to the black board to write something,
and my silly feminine heart fluttered in vanity like a peacock.
Before long, silver threads began to peek here and there.
When they came in one and two, I plucked them away.
But Time, like a mischievous imp began to play nasty games.
In a couple of years, I was all grey and now I thrive on hair dye.
Indeed, a messy job! To make things easy I have cut my hair short.
Sad, my mother is not there to see me in short hair!
As a little girl, it simply meant, not being in a jail.
Nor being so vicious, like pulling a cat’s bushy taul,
It meant summer vacations, and sharing our toys.
In those days, when it was OK to be a girl or a boy.
People of all colors came here from so many lands.
We celebrated our differences with music and bands
The flag of our country’s union, was for one and all.
We learned, if divided, this great country might fall.
Men and women went to fight in wars across the sea.
Many never came home, they died for you and for me.
I’d love to travel back to those days of sweet innocence.
With no clothes dryers, and roses behind a picket fence!
Fireflies glittered in star-bright, warm, summer’s nights.
Life was so simple then, as we all knew wrong from right.
6/1/2026
TV SHOPPING MADNESS
The mad Christmas shopping on
TV has begun.
Hair dryers for close to 400 dollars.
Tons of electrical stuff that will make us anything
but Rhodes scholars!.
Some of you ladies will remember
when clothes came in sizes?
Now they like Zeppelins, we,
too,can look the one that rises!
Vacuum cleaners, of all types.
My favorite for three hundred dollars
is one robotic.
That spins on your floor, shiny
and makes me totally hypnotic!
Serums, masks and cremes galore.
You put on a beauty mask,and you will be
twenty-one when you walk out the door?
All manner of organizers, leopard,
patriotic or gold,
Truly, a sight one would have to behold.
Those who do not have a TV, now
don't let your egos get you huffy!
Commercialism has a way of getting to
you!
Even with beds for your faithful dog~
Muffy.
I have never seen HSN and QVC
in such a panic!
One product every ten minutes?
It makes me mutterly manic!
So, back to soothing music and
writing poetry.
And very choice readings from the
inspiring of you, to humanity.
November 9, 2019
~Panagiota~
In the singularity
perfectly good poems
are being written by laughing
and crying machines
washing machines and dryers
about their daily tasks
and ambivalences
which will be indistinguishable
from those of future
farmers and philosophers.
In the singularity
evolution can be said
to be the master sorter of data
as in the factories
of the suns
where protons are smashed together
and unusual weather patterns
make consciousness interesting
for its complete dependence
on the substrate of the brain and body.
In the singularity
everything anyone once did
always remains current
as if invented yesterday
for an immediate purpose
such as curing cancer
although that may be unnecessary
to achieving immortality
i.e. the happiness one feels
the day before thanksgiving.
by Robert(Bob)Moore © 2016
Do you remember Dolly Blue,
Carbolic soap and brownstone too
mam at the copper, stick in hand
to stir the clothes, so they’d look grand
squeeze out the water, through the wringer
be careful though, don’t trap your finger
‘cause that might hurt and make you cry
then hang them on the line to dry
Then came machines, with an agitator
just throw stuff in and come back later
still have to put them through the wringer
that’s still a danger to your finger
Then came spin dryers, they make a din
you just throw all of the wet clothes in
then hang them out upon the line
that’s OK if the weathers fine
Next came the dryer, to make them dry
just flick a switch, and watch them fry
don’t need to hang them out today
so the washerwoman just faded away.
I have forsaken all to be with thee
might those I had created
and
there mothers be secondardary to
my needed
now I may speak of in tenses
that I have curse the
foods of her table as
(wHoop: Hooga;hooga< Ployed!)
with thyn Roosters
as (put, ting: plerb!)
and there Hens
Whoomp: ah Lumpa Whooga!)
Our Wedding
Hour Wedding
Suite Our oh Sayer
Plung: Plung: Pling
The invoice for dah
Clothes from
the Fat-People Store
or the Phat Peoplesz Stow
what ya'll talking bout?
Exploration into The Construction of "Father's Door "
A new concept City. Which with have a townseat named
Mother Apron. The place is beleived to create a manmade waterfall
and a man made volcano
that will house a water treament. A plant to build and sell
Crate and Barrel dwellings
that will suport mid poverish lifestyles.
This promagram is designed to use materails that support warmth and are easily cool
Equipment is half of the national avergae
meaning new compact equipment to regulae. Compact frigs, compact
washer, dryers
Donning rubber gloves, the wife does washing of clothes and dishes...
(plus cutlery, pots pans, et cetera) in the kitchenette sink.
She started what would immediately become
a first and last generation tradition
(the spouse as washer woman
and scullery maid)
soon after we moved here
eight years ago come July 1st, 2025.
I trumpet her pioneer spirit
to apply elbow grease
(to tackle tough
heavily stained articles of clothing
(after her weary cowboy husband
comes back home on the range
after a hot day rustling cattle)
think underwear of mine -
whereat even bleach
falls short of removing
stubborn noticeable discoloration)
such gusto similarly applied
to glassware or cookware caked
with crusty hardened food.
After washing wearable goods,
she squeezes the excess water
from saturated item(s)
and drapes still moderately wet garment
over drying racks
despite the availability
of clothes washers and dryers
here on the premises
of Highland Manor Apartments.
Though she continues to threaten
with colorful epithets
never to wash my clothes ever again,
her words ring hollow
when some time elapses
and... guess what?
yepper, her hands slide down
into the behavioral sink
and I make sure
to acknowledge gratitude,
yet admit to falling short
of filling in the blank
(with a select response),
when she asks me
what will I give her in return.
Earlier in our
almost thirty year marriage,
we (I more so than the wife)
used to be conditional
and if asked a favor,
the immediate response
from yours truly (me)
just so happened to be
what do I get in return?
That Pavlovian feedback loop
occurred way before
my libido took a kamikaze dive,
into a suicide mission
a strong suspicion arises
(but I dare not utter
a premature ejaculation)
videlicet that being adverse effects
linkedin with one or more
of the nine prescription medications
ingested for mental health issues
such as anxiety, dysthymia,
obsessive compulsive disorder,
and palmar hyperhidrosis
could be the only logical explanation,
and interestingly enough,
I breathe a sigh of relief
cuz all to often sexual fantasies
ofttimes filled every waking
and sleeping hour of mine.
HOCUS BOGUS, BOGUS POCUS!
A hex on the dryers of you who owe us
A pox on your socks never to be found
Unwound and pulled down underground
I voodoo better than you do, and you'll rue
The day you walked my way because I knew
If I'm toil and trouble, you're definitely double
So bubble bubble grow no more than stubble
It might seem weird as something feared
But I know you've always wanted a beard!
You think I'm too lily livered to deliver?
Just wait until I conjure... A WOODEN SLIVER
Didn't think this is something you'd fear?
You'll think twice when near tweezers disappear!
Such sorcery the likes you've never seen
An enchantress so mean there's never been
My final vengeance enclosed in this vile
You cry and I smile, I fly while you're in a pile
A potion with eye of storm and tongue of twist
And whatever else is on my list, with a flick of the wrist
I cast a spell you cannot quell that’s straight from hell
You’ll swell as you yell in pain as you fell
Unable to imagine such a fate is more than fable
As your pinky toe catches the corner of a coffee table!
MWA HA HA HA HA HA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!