Long Frisbees Poems
Long Frisbees Poems. Below are the most popular long Frisbees by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Frisbees poems by poem length and keyword.
A flawless sapphire blue tanzanite sky
spurs the flight of a monarch butterfly,
discarding its colorless chrysalis
as summer's sunny rays intensify.
Waves tongue ticklish toes along the shoreline
licking at bare feet playing in the brine,
and laughs and giggles echo in the wind
as the magic of surf and sand combine.
The beach hosts a frenzy of sights and sounds
from frisbees to seagulls doing their rounds,
a cacophony of shrieks and clatter
as the children howl like a pack of hounds.
A yellow sun sparkles like a citrine
hung above splendiferous shades of green,
and I cool my sunburnt skin with a breeze
that smells of sweat and barbequed cuisine.
I revel in the dog days of Summer
set to the beat of a laid-back drummer,
for this unhurried pace is hypnotic,
although summer's end can be a bummer.
(Rubaiyat)
9/5/2018
(Even If You Are A Cat Person This Applies To You)
Dear Dogs,
When I say to move it means go someplace else, not switch positions with each other so there are still two dogs in the way.
The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food.
The other dishes are mine and contain my food.
Please note placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and my food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.
The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a race track.
Beating me to the bottom is not the object.
Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.
I cannot buy anything bigger than a king size bed.
I'm very sorry about this but do not think that I will continue to sleep on the couch to ensure your comfort.
Look at videos of dogs sleeping. They can actually curl up into a ball.
It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out with tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space used is nothing but doggie sarcasm.
My compact discs are not miniature frisbees.
For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom.
If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut it is not necessary to claw, whine, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open.
I must exit through the same door I entered.
In addition, I have been using bathrooms for years;
canine attendance is not mandatory.
Lastly, the proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dogs butt.
I cannot stress this enough.
It would be such a simple change for you.
With Love,
Mom
It's Saturday in suburbia U.S.A.
Lawn mowers buzzing, chores underway
Planting and pruning, nourishing flowers that will bloom
To announce and brighten the month of June
Contented cats perch on fences high
Loftily appraising the collared dogs led by
To the dogpark, filled with Frisbees and tennis balls
A meelee of fur, a Fido free-for-all!
Teenagers holding signs - for a small fee, to support their JROTC
They will clean your cars - from grimy to shiny!
Kids on bikes and boards fly down the steep hill
Heedless of danger - transported by thrill
Farmer's markets - trendy veggies and jams, artisanal pleasure
Yard sales - for pennies on the dollar, you could discover treasure
At the local high school field, the softball game starts
Everyone participates - everyone plays their part
As evening folds in, grills are fired up
Smokey meat smells waft by - time to sup!
In suburbia U.S.A
It's just another Saturday
Say something nice my love
Pass the bread and butter please
Put down the dagger to the heart
A slice of kindness will do just fine
Don't be like the ugly lady in Amsterdam
Yelling at her husband to pass the jam
Make your own darn toast she screams
As the pretty young girls go by the window
Nasty mean mom rocks the baby to sleep
She uses real rocks to speed the process
Father says that's not a very nice thing to do
As he butters both sides of the bread for two
Mom throws the both of them out the window
With the dishes which are as broke as them
Babies don't have wings you know
She tossed them twice to get it right
But was it enough? Dads are not Frisbees
It's a long way down and heads are fragile
Happy songs at dawn are better landing on the lawn
Mrs. Gurglesworth says, “Have a nice trip my dearies”
She can't read so she screams, “Don't write!”
Then goes back to bed with the cracker crumbs
Prays to God for what she has done
Munches on leftovers in the mattress
Or whatever she finds under the covers
Say something nice like, I miss the kids
Or say, but mostly I miss doing the dishes
Isn't that delicious
Authors note: In the 7th. line down, 4th. word in on the line of this poem, the author wanted desperately to use another word that begins with the letter D and has the letter M in it for good measure but he is reminded of the language police lurking at this site. He decided to shy away from using a curse word that could or might offend the more delicate readers at this location. He begs your forgiveness for bringing up the subject in the first place. Enjoy the poem minus the naughty word.
When I think of my father my heart
starts beating in time with his 7 A.M.
footsteps on hardwood floors.
His image rests in the second chamber
of my heart. If I could shrink you
down and put you in there, you’d hear
the sharp, industrial twang of golf balls
alongside windblown, sun-wrecked dune reeds and shark
fins cresting the ocean’s ceiling.
My nose fills with scents of SPF 4
and scheduled coffee. Salt spray off
the foreshore permeates the air as he runs
up and down the neural pathways he forged
with white hot reaffirmations and ice cold habits.
If you were to run the needle over my
inherited, though painted skin, the music would
radiate in clouds of bookstore doorbells,
deafening sneezes and sports bar televisions.
This year I’m starting construction on a new
chamber in my heart; one just to hold
the memories of my father, a chamber filled
with the loud, consistent banging of beanbags on wood,
a chamber big enough for me to chase after
frisbees tossed with sixty-eight-year-old skill
most crucially, a chamber with integrity
enough to hold the blue, persistent flame
in focus long enough for me to light my own
cigarette, and smile as the smoke comes out.
The new room design has soundproof walls
and the door and locks are all fireproof,
withstanding flames as hot as the water my
mother uses to wash his greasy meatloaf pans.
Lolli Lolli Lolli come out and play
Lolli Lolli Lolli don't waste a fun day
Riding on my new bike's handlebars
I peddle so fast we'll reach Mars
At the park we'll get a red balloon
Eat cotton candy until out tummies kaboom
Will chase frisbees like a dog
Sit on the bench made out of a log
Jump rope till we almost puke
Swing round and round with hula hoops
Lolli Lolli Lolli come laugh and play
Lolli Lolli Lolli enjoying Saturdays
Splash in the wading pool
Rest under the shade trees staying cool
It's like a holiday without school
On my bike I swear we fly
As the evening sneaks nigh
I think we can touch the starry sky
Lolli, Lolli, Lolli, time to say goodbye
Lolli, Lolli, Lolli, it was good as pie
When another weekend comes our way
Lolli Lolli Lolli, come out and play.
Sunsets of a thousand colors,
jumping into crystal blue waters,
yeah, baby - school's out for summer.
At first, it’s a shock - ignoring the clock,
we’re like prisoners set free
- for a two-month party
- and no responsibilities
Ditch the books b1tchez - you’re my tribe
- summer’s our vibe and it’s time to slip-n-slide.
Barbeque, corn on the cob, juicy peaches,
lemonade, popsicles, hot sandy beaches,
thunderstorms, short shorts, cotton candy clouds,
let's get a little too silly and a little too loud.
Coleslaw, hotdogs, sharing French fries
Charles smokin' ribs, burgers piled high,
lounging by the pool, with friends dropping by.
Sunglasses, flip-flops, midnight walks, crop tops,
sunrise mornings, throwing frisbees in the park
Playlist DJ’n, the bare feet are tappin', we’re TikTok dancin’,
and, truth or dare, I’m seeing a couple of new romances.
Ferris wheel spinnin', funnel-cake eatin’, roller coaster screamin’,
the kettle-corn’s poppin’ for rom-com streamin’ and reality-TVing.
My mom asked, “Why are you girls all sleeping in one room?”
The answer? “Cause there ain’t no cure for the summertime snooze”
Why doesn’t someone make a sunblock perfume?
Umbrellas, watermelons, 3am dips, Taco Bell trips
and roasting marshmallows on the poolside fire-pit
Beach towels spread like butterfly wings,
hey, our tans are starting to match our bikinis!
Come on, relax, have an ice-cold martini.
We’re not doin’ nothin' - we’re makin’ memories!
Yesterday I was walking in the early morning fog
When I stopped at the edge of a field to watch a man and his Frisbee dog.
The man would throw his Frisbee east, west, north or south
the dog would chase it, jump up in the air and catch it in his mouth.
Next that dog would trot that Frisbee back and lay it at the man’s feet
The man would pick it up…toss it again…and this scenario would repeat.
After each chase the dog would wait as excitedly as he did the chase before
and I couldn’t tell by looking at their faces which one enjoyed it more…
I noticed the more I stood there watching them…seeing how that Frisbee flew
seeing how that dog would jump…I was smiling too.
I watched until they finished…until the final chase was done
and marveled at how dog and man were having so much fun.
My thoughts drifted back to our dog- he couldn’t catch a Frisbee at all
but he would act just like that Frisbee dog when we threw a tennis ball.
And I remembered when we played fetch…how I loved to watch him run
how just like this man and his Frisbee dog…we too had so much fun.
Our pets will pass away too soon…before us…this is true
and now I wonder if there isn’t an explanation…a rationale for why they do…
To remind us life is short and to get the most from our life span
perhaps we should be chasing as many frisbees as we can…
Perhaps we should be running in the fields…jumping over logs
and having as much fun living…as that man and his Frisbee dog.
I have told this story, a long time ago in a different way.
Because its true I would like to tell it again today.
It’s a new poem, the story is old, so tell me what you think.
This time I relate it for a contest by Empress Ink.
It was Summer holidays. Six weeks time off from school,
Nothing much to do. Maybe beach or swim at home in the pool.
I applied for a job, packing Frisbees in a sheltered workshop.
The heat machine was too dangerous, and work had to stop.
The hot wire to cut the shrink-wrap might burn the disabled.
Four of us were hired for 6 weeks to use it, as “fit” we were labelled.
The regular workers considered us a novelty working there,
Some people as they passed, us would just stop and stare.
So many wonderful people all with disabilities they had,
There was a cheery atmosphere, and it didn’t make us feel sad.
The workers seemed to help each other and were kind and giving,
All doing a great job working in spite of difficulties, earning a living.
A young guy managed to ask me if I would sit with him for lunch.
I sat next to him at a big table with all the rest of the bunch,
Such sweet folk, all happy and bright,
Not one of them dwelling on their challenged plight.
He invited me but struggled with words, very hard to know what he said.
He had a very bad limp, and he continually nodded his head.
After that day he beckoned me to lunch with him every chance.
The boss said, “don’t worry He’s simple, his name is Lance,“
We all laughed and had fun those days when lunchtime would start.
Each one of their personalities went straight to my heart
On the last day, when we had finally wrapped the last frisbee,
We were saying goodbye, Lance limped up and gave a card to me.
It read, My sister wrote this for me. I wish you knew what I was like,
Because I wasn’t simple before that accident on my motorbike.
My eyes filled with tears, as I hugged him and simply walked away.
I still think of him, and all the rest of those featherless angels to this day.
Non Fiction.
I intend to enjoy summer
and the sun, warming my ancient skin.
Once, I said goodbye to summer
because one season must yield to the next,
and it was time to attend school and learn.
I said goodbye to seemingly endless beach days,
crashing waves, sand crabs, frisbees, hot dogs, and portable radios singing
about suntanned California girls;
lazy mornings, bike rides to the ballpark,
and balls, flying off my bat and over walls.
I said goodbye,
as I said goodbye
to the excitement of youthful romance,
to my son's childhood,
and as I will say goodbye,
one day, to you,
dear friend.
I intend to enjoy summer.