Long Flats Poems
Long Flats Poems. Below are the most popular long Flats by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flats poems by poem length and keyword.
In my closet are shoes piled high.
Heels, flats and running shoes and; more to buy!
Purses of all shapes and size.
Letting even one go is a huge compromise!
Purple, pink, red and black..
Piled one on top of another in a neat stack!
Ladies, you know the drill..
When the man is at work, hide the bill!
Sneak the package in, when he goes out.
Add it to the rest, because your holding out!
Girls, we never can have too many purses or shoes.
Looking and buying them is our muse.
Ladies, if he does ask about a purchase he claims he has never seen.
Change the subject, then turn on the vacuum machine.
Ladies, give the man what he wants before he can say ANYTHING.
Then tell him your trying to loose weight, then go walking.
I've met myself
many times coming and going...
generally a quick smile
and respectful nod – seldom
pausing to chat, both of us
longing for more together
company
I (me/myself) have met so many
other pairs...traveling together/alone,
the double nature of a
human journey...half inclined
to linger and experience, nurture
and service
while the other, at a manic
pace, seeking one's self, yet
expanding the divide
I guess, would us multitudes
of separations ever join
together, it would mean the end of
warring...but of music, and poetry
as well, as we know it
no need to fire canons-of-being
if no one to report their twang
and echos....sing of and chronicle
triumphs and failures ("dreaming
the impossible dream...")
the flats and sharps
of a lyrical soul....
I refuse to babysit any more of your litters I told the McCats.
They begged, and pleaded, and complimented me on my flats.
Oh man. I am easy. A parrot who does not ever say “no”.
How far away will you be? I asked. “Where will you go?”
Just to the store, these cats lied through their teeth of yellow.
We’ll be back in a jiffy, they’ll be easy. You are such a kind fellow!
If there is one thing I know it is that good guys always finish last.
I said “Yes” but then I drank the rest of the whiskey out of my flask.
Kittens are trouble; they are mewers, whiners, swatters and worse.
They dumped the contents of my owner Mrs. Tee’s luxurious purse.
I knew I’d be in trouble if they were gone more than an hour or two.
They double crossed me that day; and these kittens were new.
They never came back, and that was sixteen years ago.
I am still taking care of this last litter, and they slink to and fro.
They love me like a mother, have imprinted with me.
So I guess it’s not horrible; it’s kind of great as you see.
I dwell in a high-rise apartment dwelling
That faces a gigantic air travel bureau building.
A bureau building with a mega mirrorred front,
thus its frontage a gigantic jumbo-sized mirror.
In the twilight hours of violet dusk or dawn,
the entire huge apartment flats
reflected on its mirrorred walls.
One can see the reflections
of the whole neighbourhood
All the faces peeping in from their windows
All the people hanging around
on their balconies and terrace
And if doors are left ajar
whatever is going on inside
their flats reflected indiscriminately
on the travel agency's massive mirrors as well!
It is quite a sight to see
esp for idle peeking, prying eyes.
Folks thus have to be conscientious
about their doings in full view...
But at midnight if you chance to wake up,
the giant mirrors reflect a spectacular sight!
The moon on a moonlit night
or starry heavens as
diamond specks of light!
Thus a huge patch of heaven
itself reflected upon it
Novas, supernovas, nebulas,
ooh, the shooting stars in God's Galaxy
all reflected magnificiently
upon the mirrorred walls!!
Fine shine, O' giant mirror, mirror
literally on the wall
But I'd rather you don't reflect
my unveiled form at all.
For I prefer being the invisible
belle of the hall....
(Please read The Park -- Part One first ...
This is a continuation from Part One, due to space limitations)
Yes, kids at play are bold and wise
with flashing smiles and knowing eyes.
Children tire easily of grown-up prattle;
thoughts turn to cakes, to toys that rattle.
They think that Belles and Bills tell lies.
Tme is a birthday gift or a new surprise:
games to play; a windy day for a kite one flies;
coins that shine; toys that squeak;
a trip to the zoo at the end of the week.
Belles and Bills persist in their story.
Some even mention forgotten glory.
Children go home to eat, to sleep,
as Belles and Bills their vigils keep
then wearily drift back to flats
to listen to the rustling rats,
to sip their beers or gins or rums --
to wait until the morning comes.
They stand and stretch, look all around,
surveying the world to which they're bound.
Then they shuffle away with airs of sadness
at being always on the verge of madness.
They'll see once more the sun's first ray,
the birth in the park of another day.
Eyes are glazed and minds are dazed;
the atmosphere grows dim and hazed.
An eerie echo of an unheard bark
reverberates throughout the park
amid falling leaves and a darkening sky
and the nightly proof of the chilren's lie.
Theme for collaboration suggested by Tim Smith
Two enormous old toads crossed the road
On Tom’s back lounged Thomasina toad
Both are ugly and warty
Thomasina’s so naughty
As her bowels on his back she’d download
06-16-17
WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON
When Thomasina toad dumped on old Tom
He thought her poop explosion was a bomb
He hopped in the air
gave her a mean stare
shouting, "I'm not taking you home to Mom!"
WRITTEN BY LIN LANE
Ribbit rubbit robbit 'n ro
this crazy toad has got to go
She's turning quite mean -
Fifty shades of green
No time to chat but still does crow
WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH
"Why don't we do it in the road?"
Said Thomas, the old horny toad
Thomasina hissed,
"Get a load of this!"
and a "blessing" on him bestowed
WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
Thomasina was on a road trip
Her taxi was Tom's back she'd grip
But she strained as she held
And her bottom expelled
So she said "I've just left you a tip"
WRITTEN BY RAY GRIDLEY
Tom and Thomasina were the perfect pair
They were ancient toads without a care
He had a huge wart
She gives a mean fart
Anyone in her vicinity better beware!
WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y
Now Tom was an over achiever
He wanted the lady, not leave her
He sprayed his back with Scotch-Guard
and rubbed down with lots of lard
the dumper was now the receiver
WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART
Tom gave Thomasina the boot
Got sick from the smell of her poot
told her to get lost
right after he tossed
She gave him the one finger salute
WRITTEN BY DANIEL TURNER
Thomas and Thomasina loved to hear
the waterboatmen rubbing their gear
Thomas tried and started to croak
causing Thomasina to choke
you two will never get it right I fear
WRITTEN BY SEREN ROBERTS
When T'sina hopped on for a ride
Old Thomas reminded his bride,
"Though you're my sweet dish,
on the road we'll get squished",
"Just do it!" was her terse reply.
WRITTEN BY CRAIG CORNISH
Thomasina and Tom a heavy load
Lingered a little too long on the road
He could have kissed her all night
shocked at the oncoming lights
Croak and ribbit was heard; two flattened toads
WRITTEN BY EVE ROPER
PLEASE SOUP MAIL ME ANY SUBMISSIONS FOR THE COLLABORATION
06-16-17
Like a current volt ride a long in a linear plane
I'm in a encase vessel in Him
a traveling body of water surfacing traveling spiraling Collective waves above and below the floodplain
In between the cracks of the terraining
Wind down withered parts loathing loathing ever rolling Across the hills and flats and grasslands
Through the creeks in the valleys winding to and froing
Young waters flow like a liken
a treebranch seldom bends or brakes
Spiraling cross the dirt and sands stream
Waters run horizontal weaving and cleaving
On course dry lands part waters I am traveling
But first I am energy band, birth from the heavens
Like a current volt ride a long in a linear plane
I'm in a encase vessel in Him
a traveling body of water surfacing traveling spiraling Collective waves above and below the floodplain
In between the cracks of the terraining
Energized ENERGY FLOW LIKE A RIVER
12/24/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2023
We don’t craft and send no more
Penned words residing in my draw
Those dated thoughts and gone events
Scrapbook of yore it represents
Handwritten mood, pain and regrets
Once sunny days, audacious bets
One young at heart, the choices made
Mundane events still on parade
Creased paper, yellowing in time
Cute fading stamps, once worth a dime
Ideas frozen, saved and kept
And people, places somehow trapped
For boys and girls, for moms and dads
Grandmas and wives of spouse-nomads
How stay in touch, to share crave
To savor love and send the wave
The way we were, like photo framed
Re-read those words, yourself reclaim
A little pile, ribbon-tied
Link to the past it hides inside
The world has changed, days flew by
We type, not write, and say ‘goodbye’
To letters, pushed aside by chats
So glued to screens in our flats
I have regrets, as letters gone
The dialog to act upon
Mailbox flag’s up, lagged outcome
And glory, when the letter comes!
September 11, 2024
Eager tourist
Seeking the unfamiliar;
Newfound exploits
~~~~~~~~~
So many colours
Blooms in full steam;
Bourgainvilleas smile
~~~~~~~~~
Bamboo leaves
Breezy dance cutting;
A hundred raindrops
~~~~~~~~~
Winding path
Tall grassy foliage;
Natural camouflage
~~~~~~~~~
Old house on stilts
Stench of mud flats;
Change of tide
~~~~~~~~~
Across endless sea
Lone ship sails;
Distant horizon
~~~~~~~~~
Cotton clouds
Speeding skyway;
Aquamarine glare
~~~~~~~~~
Little boy giggling
Laughing little girl;
Infantile romance
~~~~~~~~~
Paradoxical moods
Feelings intertwine;
Sanguine crossroads
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
26 October 2014
Singapore
I think of those who left their home.' To fight on battlefields
Unknown.' In mud and blight against Gallipolis heights
At Beer Sheba and on Tobruks deadly plains.' Where they
Lay low; and let those tanks, roll over them front and flanks'
Then arose to put to shame.their foe' These Men
Of the the flats..Of wheatfields and cane.' From harbours
And citys made forever a name.' Reknown for igenuity for
Resilience wordwide.' Steadfast our bronzed battlers who
Took all in stride.' As the bugle notes ring out today in the
Dawn.' I remember.. I remember.' In gratitude mixed with awe.! So today as i face the struggles that come I shall
Draw strength, and inspiration at the rising of each sun.'
And it will remind me.' That whatever is to come? the
ANZAC spirit is my mentor, i vow to hold it to my memory all
My days on earth, until my final hours beneath the setting sun'