Long Excess Poems
Long Excess Poems. Below are the most popular long Excess by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Excess poems by poem length and keyword.
Once there was a dishwasher leak
That went on and on for a week
It flooded the clean floor
Sorrow ran in the door
The situation looked so bleak
The pit bull bit the wife when she hand fed
Naughty devil in disguise watched as she bled
Now the old husband is retired
He is caught in the line of fire
Dish washer with apron he has been lead
He called the repair man in secret
He whispered as it was the bleakest
Get the parts sent by air express
Get here so fast speed in excess
As he whispered this is so freakish
My dishwasher is leaking a river when it drains so we are having to hand wash dishes
until the repair man can get parts to fix it..The dog bit my hand and I have an open wound which doesn't need to be in dish water. I asked the retired husband to help. He told me he was going to call the repair man and tell him to have those parts delivered by air express..Then he said I kind of like doing this and I am good at it so I think I will apply for a job doing it for pay..LOL>>ROTFL
The speed limit in this state on highways is sixty-five.
However, you drive like the most reckless man alive.
Probably the reason for this is merely the thrills.
You are old enough to know that excess speed kills.
Why is it you always seem in a hurry to go anywhere?
You should leave earlier, and give yourself time to spare.
Do you realize the police plant speed traps everywhere?
Speeding violations are costly. Do you not care?
Tickets not only result in high insurance premium rates.
Many times, drivers may encounter egregious fates.
Sit behind the wheel and use sense is what I will say.
Drive carefully, and live to see another day.
I recall it vividly,
Like it were yesterday,
I remember well when depression almost took my life,
I recall how I became thin,thinner and thinnest,
I can tell how my close associates raised an alarm health wise,
Mine was a polite reply of how I was well,
But deep down was a tattered that needed 'repair."
It's still fresh in my mind,
How I made Chlorpheniramine my buddy,
How Promethazine was my breakfast,
And amitryptilline formed a better spice of my dinner,
I can't tell the amount,dose taken but I bet it was excess,
All this were undertakings to just forget and forgo,
Only heavens can tell nastiness of the ordeal.
Man liveth not on bread alone but I only knew of bread alone,
I slept on it,dreamt of it for it was all I knew,
Cake is sweeter but well baked bread surpassed the sweetness,
Expiry date knocked and it grew moulds sans me knowing,
I realized it after the L double O became my frequency,
The bread was long gone bad,
Too late I couldn't reverse it.
Am now here,sitted with my writing pad,pen and ink,
With me is a cup of coffee which is an inseparable of me,
A thought of the above just crisscrossed my mind,
It deepened and brought memories courtesy of val cruise,
No,I should forget of it,yes I let it go,
But again,memories,pseupseudo-everything,pseudo-everything...
Oups!!Am sorry,have been dreaming!
©Poet Igweee...
In many colours I come and many places inhabit
when in South America crabs are my favourite
I chase them with great glee and delicately
Their flesh pick out of their shells and pincers
Come to Africa, when I reside here I have bat ears
that swivel around as I listen for my prey
a tasty rabbit, a guinea fowl even just a mouse
I hide any excess and return to dine in leisure
When living in Russia I am silver in colour
a thick pelt and bushy tail which I display
with such great pride to attract the vixens
then in a matter of weeks new cubs join me
England not quite so cool here the hunt
dogs baying for my blood as I am chased
uphill and down dale, cunningly I head downstream
then hide up in some trees, yes I can climb them
Arctic is where I the Alopex live with my tiny ears
to help me not to lose too much heat in the snowy Tundras
here I eat whatever I can even a fish when it's salmon run
with my vixen we share the raising of four to eleven cubs
Known world wide as cunning and sly, I am a survivor
overcoming different adversities as they arise
Reynard is the name most men know and curse me by
especially if I have raided their chicken coops
Lemon Pie in the Oven
And Children asking questions
That maybe I once asked,
Eating excess lemon filling
From The Bowl with a Spoon.
But where are the children?
Their Father, Uncle,
Neighbor, Cousin,
I am each of them and none of them
And I bake whenever inspired
In one world I’m a single man
Living alone with pets;
In the other, I’m a Worker,
A cook and sometimes Manager
But always the family Baker
But in both worlds I really like
Lemon Pie, home made,
With a nice meringue on top
Also warm cherry, Apple,
Blue berry, Pumpkin, Orange
I like them all
Lemon Pie out of the oven
Lemon Pie on the table
You are more delicious
than a tree house -
Please stay awhile Lemon Pie!
I recently read a beautifully written article
By a father who suddenly recognize how the excess time he spends with technology
Has negatively affected his young daughter
He went on to chide himself and our culture for being too busy
Wrote expressively the importance of being present to one another
He made wonderful points in an elegant manner
But as I finished the article I never realized that he never said
What he was going to do about it
He didn’t seem to have an action plan
I have done the same thing in my life
I may recognize an area in my life that is out of balance
Feel guilty about it
Even promise myself that I will make a change
Yet never get around to it
It is only when I take time to prayerfully reflect to my resistance
My fear
My insecurity and turn to God that I know I am serious about changing my behavior
Grrrr WOMEN they drive me mad!
We were due to go on holiday
My wife said she was on her way
I’d got the car engine running
I waited
and waited
and waited
But my wife Marcie was on the phone to her mom
Marcie had INSISTED her mother lived in our granny flat
Why couldn’t she pop next door to say goodbye…
Going on holiday is the only way I can escape from the old bag
Still at least she’s looking after Mitzi our Chihuahua
We arrive at the airport just in time ….
Marcie walks ahead in a cloud of Chanel No 5 perfume
To me it smells like cat’s pee
but if it was good enough for Marilyn Monroe she HAS to wear it
Unfortunately I had chosen the only trolley with the wonky wheel
That darn trolley has a mind of it’s own … it must be a female!
The electric doors open and close like see through curtains
I struggle with a mountain of three suitcases, but only one is mine
And half of MY case is taken up with five pairs of Marcie’s shoes
Tell me guys
Why does a woman have to pack the kitchen sink ‘just in case’
One small suitcase is FULL of her make up
Gee I hope she remembered to pack the trowel with which to apply it!
At the check in desk we discover one of the cases is overweight
Yes … you guessed it – its mine with all her bloody shoes in it
I have to stump up thirty-five dollars in excess baggage fees!
What a great way to start a relaxing break...
When we board the plane things are no better
Marcie moans about the cramped seats
She has to ask for a seat-belt extension
telling the stewardess the seats are smaller than those the last time we flew
Maybe if she lost a few pounds that would make a difference …
But of course I hold my tongue
Marcie moans about the noise as we take off
She moans about the aircraft food but still eats every mouthful
She complains how tiny the toilet stalls are
her huge butt doesn’t help but I hold my tongue
As we are landing she says how much she misses her mom and the dog
THAT WAS THE FINAL STRAW
Next year Marcie and her mum can go away
I’m staying at home with the dog!
06-12-17
FORESKINFEDORA FOR POETS WHO IDENTIFY AS MEN
Sponsored By John Lawless
I've made up my mind.
I'm going to clean out the attic today.
Leaving nothing but cobwebs behind...
Photos of people without names
Car seats -chrome tables - baby rattles
Dented pots and pans
Rubber snakes.
A guitar that never made it past 5th grade.
Silent notes whisper in broken glass tones.
Melodies forever stuck in the clay.
It's all just excess anyway.
Things of past importance.
Scattered into cardboard boxes of chaos.
Of those never remembered and the long forgotten.
To the curb nostalgia will go.
The garbage truck offers a garbled eulogy.
To a couple of strutting crows in the gallery
When I was young, older friends-family gave advice with their tongue. They gave me golden nuggets of advice, too young to use but I thought about them twice.
Now older and I hope wiser, each senior was my great adviser. With each ten years things get harder Ann,
do all you can now while you can. The golden years are golden, with health-money don't be beholden. Save for a rainy day, they are sure to come your way. Get rid of excess things, they will be given away with your rings. Give to those you love now, or it will become a fight oh wow. The golden nuggets of advice, were so sad and cold like ice. I have seen many a tear,
I will not live in fear.
Date Written: 3/12/2021
Note: "Golden Nuggets Of Advice" come from seasoned seniors.
Quote By Paula Goldsmith
I am a civilian at war
I do not know how to hold a gun at all
I hope to return home a warrior
I am a civilian at war
facing giants and the world
I hope you hold my hand when I stretch it for help
I am a civilian at war
My feet are swollen and my stomach as well
I hope you feed me when I won’t be able to lift my hand
I am a civilian at war
My uniform has rugs
I hope you dress me when you see me naked
I am civilian at war
Confused by man’s religions
I hope you guide me if you see me my friend
I am a civilian at war
My riffle has run out of bullets
I hope you recharge mine if have some in excess
I am woman
alone in a labour room
I hope you come to my rescue if you hear my voice
I am a man
Depressed
I hope you talk to me when you see me drowning
I am girl child
sexually Assaulted
I hope you protect me next time you see me alone
I am a young person
Caught stealing and swindling my loved ones
I hope you employ me next time you read my resume