Long Flossing Poems
Long Flossing Poems. Below are the most popular long Flossing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Flossing poems by poem length and keyword.
Valentine's Day isn't about you, men!
It's about spoiling* your self - women!
Nah! Can’t wait for being pampered!
Nah! Ain’t altruistic and self-sacrificing!
Nah! I don’t depend, I am demanding!
Yeah! Expectations are graduating!
And the love is exploding!
I am awesome and rocking!
I love glamour, I am always shimmering!
It’s just Tiffany’s, when I am shopping!
See my neck is flossing!
And my skin is gleaming!
Yeah, I love celebrating!
Valentine’s is exciting!
Let the rules, get breaking!
My eyes are shinning!
And the smile is beaming!
My look is ravishing!
My style is dazzling!
I love myself; I am dating!
You live only once, come on stop cribbing!
My gloss is now popping!
All my friends, let’s be rip-roaring!
(spoiling# pampering)
5/5/17
I know I've been tardy
Let my mom know, I'm sorry
Like 6 dogs said in "flossing"
I know I've been tardy
Let my mom know, I'm sorry
Like 6 dogs said in "flossing"
I know I've been tardy
Let my mom know I'm sorry
Haven't always been thinking smartly
But rather bizarrely and darkly
I've been on a wild goose chase, not a safari
Always getting faded, as if I love to party
And burning through it like Bob Marley
While looking up during nights that are starry
Near and far from the sea
Been feeling like a one man army
Doesn't mean that nothing can harm me
I'd still jump off the top rope like Matt and Jeff Hardy
If another tried to make the ones I love suffer harshly
Then they're the ones that will really be sorry
I'll do much more than karate and making their arm bleed
By causing mental and physical scarring
Vaguely familiar with Atari
And way too old for Barnie
I don't care about the hierarchy
I'll cook you up something hearty
Made with or without some parsley
I know I've been tardy
Let my mom know I'm sorry
Like 6 dogs said in "flossing"
I know I've been tardy
Let my mom know I'm sorry
Like 6 dogs said in "flossing"
By: Dalton Ogletree
I wouldn’t call what we do ‘blogging,’ would you?
I’m somewhat conversant with blogging and it would be like:
‘December 14th, I realized I was out of dental floss, so I called 112 (France’s 911) and they yelled at me.”
A poet might say:
The morning was pale and judgmental, the light didn’t illuminate, as much as accuse me of oversleeping. I’d just spit-out the last of my bubblegum toothpaste, when I tugged the dental floss only to be rewarded with a two-inch fragment.
The sink gurgled like a drowning swimmer as I rummaged through the medicine cabinet and then the linen closet - where we store spare soaps, shampoos, mouthwashes and the other detritus of modern hygiene -
but no floss.
I’d started the shower minutes ago, expecting a quick entry and now the bathroom had become sauna-like. French bathrooms have these box-like, ‘on demand’ water heaters, like 2 gallon coffee percolators, that dispense hot-as--holy-hell water, the mist of which, falling on the chilled, white, underfoot tiles, created a ceramic slippery-slide. I even searched Peter and my travel toiletry bags! Alas and again, no floss.
The ticking clock, that merciless, bureaucratic tool, mocked the undoing of my morning schedule.
In a moment of clarity, born of despair, I picked up my iPhone and demanded “Siri, call One-one-two!”
The French telephone system returns a higher-pitched, single-tone ring with longer pauses in between.
Three rings later I got an answer, “This is an emergency.” I announced (‘C'est une urgence’).
“What is the nature of your emergency,” a calm, dispassionate A.I.-voice asked.
“I’ve run out of floss.” I blurted.
There was a long pause where I could almost hear the A.I. dispatcher glitching.
“Mademoiselle,” it finally said, “calling 112 is not a joke.”
“Neither is plaque!” I replied - thinking of how proud my dental hygienist would be of me.
“Yet here we are,” I added, before the line went dead.
.
.
A song for this:
daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_21.mp3
Meandering meadows broken by a tossing garbling brook…strewn..rocks hewn embossing...marbling and moss flossing
Awoken whispers spoken..cantankerous coughing eddy wheezes..then a curmudgeonly icy mirror hush
Reckoning breezes yield cats' paws beckoning…teases across the flanking field
Fairies’ wield spells conveyed in lush dappled glades of plush bluebell dells
Stacked cumulus collage..shield montage cracked by dazzling azure shard mirage
Chubby clouds’ japes..conjuring cannily hung faces.. shapes...far flung places
Strife is rife..resurrection introspection survival..brings carnival of retrieval
New things...nothing can rival..primal primeval revival..Spring sings life!
At Christmas time my sister and mom
have a tradition to make delicious cookies
in the shape of a pie with sugar on top.
These are not the kind to chug down.
Not even sure if they go with milk.
A holiday special with the likes of fruit cake.
Nobody else in my household loves them
or even tries them so into the freezer they go
warmed for many days for they mustn’t go to waste!
A slightly bubbling concoction of brown sugar.
Santa would be flossing on his sleigh.
The reindeer would be jealous.
12/12/2018
The floss or flossing is a dance move in which a person repeatedly swings their arms, with clenched fists, from the back of their body to the front, on each side. (Wikipedia)
RAINBOWS FILLED WITH GOD'S PROMISES
Tiny drops of water
Flossing in the valley
Using Ponderosa Pines
While the sun falls
Evaporation time
The chill of the warm breeze
Begins to surceases
Caressing winds of valley swirls
Waterfalls crystal gold
Truth be told
Tells the truth
Truth be told
Falling drops of mist water
Never again shall God punish man with water
The next, last time shall be chastised with fire
Thus, says the Lord God the ribbon, the bow in the air
As light shines through the raindrops
The atmosphere is somewhat damp
Filled with the rainbows, of God's promises
09/09/18