Long Freezers Poems
Long Freezers Poems. Below are the most popular long Freezers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Freezers poems by poem length and keyword.
The proposal
Was a postal
Verded, nouned
and decisive
Told to a family
Of peoples
Humored and
Decisive
Tanks like ponds
Our Giant Prawns
A District
Countisourre
A taste fresh and delicious
One a seafood lover
Couldn't ignore
We propose in business
A site to construct
And build
A marvelous facility
With freezers and trucks
and skills
People Oh people
Your talents to create
A Product for
Millions
Where there is millions
To make
Internal and external
The environment we
Do care
A Product for
Smart people
A Product for profit
To share
Healthy and delicious
Tasty fresh and real
A unified front
Together in love we
Reveal
Customer and consumers
You have been put first
Our best is
The Worlds best
There is no such
Thing as our worst
Keeping the customer
Satisfied in the
Business of Satisfaction
Only an unscathed man will
Tell you this
Loss in indigo darkness
distress coursing through my being
shattered images flowing changing
confusion not understanding what was seen
blueberry muffins sticky and hot
one dozen found and one dozen lost
seeking in freezers cluttered and cold
perpetrator missing unable to find
Angels are watching with distressing concern
some trying to save and some trying to condemn
sharp points of doctrine tempered by love
intervention desired seeking to save
opening my eyes into gray gloom
smart clock has no answers only the time
not understanding laying awake
dawn is long coming wanting to sleep
memories disturbing keeping sleep at bay
guilty parties known becoming unknown
somehow are morphing in flowing change
the guilty are changing in monstrous ways
closing my eyes and seeking relief
wishing the dream would just fade away
accusing accusations of violating innocence
abusing another to seek personal gain
oh what is it that lurks in dark of night
twisting the darkness into half remembered dreams
is it external or part of me
feasting on fears in dark of night
opening drawers and within them searching
for missing muffins somehow astray
wondering why who stole them away
perhaps already consuming forever lost away
time slowly passing and staring at the walls
clock has no answers but I have not sought
perhaps there is wisdom in its artificial ways
casting aside all hope of the night
rising up in dark of night
running away from dreams that I had
seeking the light to be found elsewhere
as dreams shatter and then fade away
The Bride under the left wing; The groom under the right
The Ice Swan , landing on the lake in the Early Morning Night
Her feathers , intricately patterned in a Moment of LOVE Forever the thinnest chisel
Curves her neck, to the kiss of her beak upon the LOVING Bride and Groom
The Lily pads need a circumference scratchier to be polished ; For Love’s Landing
The cold and numbness from the freezers melts from me; with their happy Smiling
Hearts
After the “I DO’s” They each thank me for my thirty hours of an ice block work of art
Thank-YOU and may YOUR Life Together be Forever ( I also made this Swan in an
Aspic Salad
Inspired by Nette Onclaud for Her Contest “ Anything Handmade “
Dedicated to the Posners for their Seventy-fifth Anniversary
Author’s Note I was in Hospital when Contest was Finalized so this was not
entered
Is today and it makes me wonder
why this happens only once each year.
I looked inside mine
for something a year old,
and found a few things I couldn’t recognize
in jars behind my wife’s peanut butter,
but nothing had lost its color,
and no foul odors assaulted me.
You can tell a lot about a person
by looking in their refrigerator.
People who enjoy cooking tend to have leftovers.
Single people tend to have nothing,
or maybe a few condiments and drinks.
My new oversized jar of green olives
now sits on the bottom shelf,
because my friend helped me conquer its stubborn lid
just yesterday. They will marinate further,
but be consumed over the next three months.
As we get older, we lose track
of what’s behind the almond milk,
until its odor tells us it’s there,
or mold hides its color.
This morning, I’ll take time to inventory
each item to support this special day,
in hopes that nobody has thought to make
a similar day for cleaning freezers.
The kids are in bed, there's dishes to do
Washing, ironing, paperwork too,
Children, office, housework, sometimes I find life hard
But it isn't really, not when it's compared
To my mum's, who rose up early and was never late
Lighting the coal fire that was sitting in the grate,
She then cooked breakfast on a range,
Haaven't things for me now changed.
Over the range for hours mum would slave
Cooking meals, wheras I have a microwave
And a vacuum to clean this house of mine
Mum used to beat rugs on her washing line.
I have central heating to keep the house warm
For my waking up by electric alarm
Straight into the bathroom to have a shower
With instant hot water, mum had to wait hours
For the water to boil, for her dolly tub
With its mangle, her weeks washing to scrub,
A washing machine daily, washes my clothes
What I'd do without it, heaven knows.
And only a larder and pantry had mum
No fridges, or freezers with meals ready done
Between rudding steps and range black leading,
She would always make time, for games and for reading,
My children son't bother to go out to play
They stay in their rooms, on computers all day,
I guess each generation has its 'hard times'
I suppose at the moment, this must be mine,
But, on reflection of the life my mum had
I call myself lucky, my 'hard time's' not so bad!
Two days have gone by and no new poems
What's happening to this silly old geezer
Am I having one of those damn writer's blocks
Those famous deadly brain freezers
Surely there's a bunch more stuff inside
It just isn't making itself known
Usually I'm a very patient old son of a gun
Hope this old mind hasn't blown
All those poems I had stored up for months
Getting near the end of the pile
Kinda frightened like a little kid, I am
My reputation's gonna be defiled
Think I'll lie down for a couple of days
To let my old bean-o recharge
Then I'll be back to my prolific old self
Sure feel like an absolute retard
They say it can happen to the best of us guys
Thought I was above all that stuff
So much for that “holier that thou” attitude
You guy's have seen through my bluff
© Jack Ellison 2013
There are so many things in life that give me so much pleasure,
Family, friends and fishing all of which I treasure.
But having my ice cream fix, ah, I'm the happiest guy on earth.
Never mind that such ecstasy adds to my ever-expanding girth!
My spouse closely monitors the types of foods that I consume,
Concerned that cholesterol will bring about my early doom!
So surreptitiously I sneak about for my ice cream ration,
Fearful of getting caught and causing untold consternation!
I fondly recall as a lad the ice cream socials that we had,
When friends and neighbors got together with my Mom and Dad.
Bringing their favorite ice creams to mix in hand-cranked freezers.
Ah! Such delectable concoctions prepared by those old geezers!
A hot fudge sundae is a treat that I really savor,
Or a thick shake made with real ice cream of any flavor,
And every chance that I get I sneak a luscious banana split.
Am I concerned about those calories? Not one little whit!
Some folks relish sherbet, but I think that is sissy stuff.
They can have my share of that, but of ice cream I can't get enough!
When I cease to function you can etch upon my stone this theme:
"Nothing could make his eyes gleam like a bowl of ice cream!"
The kids are in bed - there are dishes to do
Some washing, ironing, paperwork too
Children, office, housework, sometimes I think life’s hard
But it isn’t really, not when it’s compared
To my mums, who rose up early and who was never late
Lighting the coal fire, sitting in the grate
She then cooked breakfast on a range,
Haven’t things for me, now changed?
Over the range for hours mum would slave
Cooking meals, whereas I have a microwave
And a vacuum, to clean this house of mine
Mum used to beat rugs on her washing line,
I have gas central heating, to keep the house warm
For my waking up to electric alarm
Then straight into the bathroom to have a shower
With instant hot water, mum had to wait hours
For the water to boil in her dolly tub
With its mangle, her weeks washing to scrub
A washing machine, daily, washes my clothes
What I’d do without it, heavens knows
And only a larder and pantry had mum,
No fridges or freezers, with meals ready done;
Between rudding steps and the range black leading,
She always had time for games and for reading,
My children don’t bother to go out to play
They stay in their rooms, on computers all day,
I guess each generation, has its ‘hard times’
I suppose at the moment, I feel this is mine
But, on reflection, of the life my mum had
I consider myself lucky; my ‘hard time’ is not so bad.
© Janette Fisher – June 1995
I wrote this poem about 15 years ago when I was a bank manager and my girls were about 12 and 10
Liberty and freedom...The American way
Crewcuts and scuttl-butt..Who knows the
Truth today.? Apple pies were stacked in
The freezers deep, the ship was crewed, by many
Beleivers.' A few mature officers, and fresh
College leavers.' The flag was up the wind was strong, how and why.? Could things go
Wrong.? So many deaths.' And to what avail.? For a full twenty five minutes they were assailed, fighter jets that just did not
See? the cut her jib.' Oe'r the rippling sea..
Isreal spoke of sighting errors..There
are
Reports of (mirage jets?) Did the French add some terror.? Last of all the torpedo boats, unleashing their fish..
To dire impacts i note.' Just a few survivors..Or humans second class.? There was compesation? and
consternation, then time moved fast'
But there's a shipload of radishes for all
to digest
If it docks.? With proofed documentation?
Not just eywitness accounting.' And
historys records, under current light,
and its
Type of cast.? I see Thomas Massie
is raking the ashes, i think of two towers falling dead straight down.?
Victims jumping in those horrible
crashes .' Its all almost distracting.? In
Its very scope..Yet I say God bless America the
Land of Liberty and hope.' A place that once threw its shackles away.' It started on
A ship.. In Boston i hear say.? Owned by some bankers..Of some type of fame? Or could it be infamy..Now whats in a name?
That long empty shop where they used to cut hair
Where all that remains is an old barber’s chair
The creak of the hinges might give you a scare
Should you care to recall what they say occurred there
The power’s been cut which he didn’t know
The candle he found gave a dull feeble glow
There must be a draught for a sound from below
Sounded so much like a voice saying Go
The keys he’d picked up from the real estate feller
Did not include one that would unlock the cellar
So just for the hell of it he turned the handle
The draught spoke again and it blew out the candle
Outside a car passed the open front door
It’s lights caused a glint on the dust covered floor
In the dust was a key and he got quite a shock
When the power came on and the key’s in the lock
The front door slammed shut which at least stopped the draught
But the cellar door opened… and somebody laughed
So with his pulse racing he made his way down
Was he mad to open in Olde London Town
He glared at the sight of four wide open freezers
Each packed with the remnants of dismembered geezers
Were his friends having a Halloween laugh
Or was that them chopped up in that old tin bath
Those stories weren't true but made up for a lark
And yet he still froze when the whole place went dark
There’s no way that this shop was once Sweeny Todd’s
But a voice in the dark chuckled… ‘What are the odds?’