Long Front tooth Poems
Long Front tooth Poems. Below are the most popular long Front tooth by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Front tooth poems by poem length and keyword.
She always had the brightest smile,
one could see it from a mile
and Annie knew how beautiful it was!
She had the smallest heart,
and when it gave...it was the biggest;
Annie gave more, not less!
Her portrait hangs on the front wall color sage,
her joyful image as innocent as a babe...
I look up and meet those radiant eyes!
My ode to Annie on a Fall evening with crackling fire
I had protected her from darkness and dire...
even when the world's doors would have opened up!
Oh, did I mention the time she lost her front tooth on the school bus?
She came home crying, running from every kid who heard the fuss...
Annie found it later in her winter coat and buried in the backyard!
She never knew her dad and wished had one,
but Annie saw that father in me and thought I was awesome...
she looked at me with tenderness and really understood!
My ode to Annie on a Fall evening thirty years after,
when this thought stroke me and made me a writer...
forever remembering that heart which changed me!
My ode to Annie whose life reflects mine,
my ode to Annie...a young soul so divine;
my ode to remember her until I'll have breath!
Alone
I watch
The house across from me
The people who live there
Keep to themselves
A shallow creek
No wider than a man’s gait
Water no deeper than two feet
Runs as a boundary between us.
The house once had a broken window
A gaping hole
That gave the house a reckless character
Like the missing front tooth
Of a mischievous young boy
Now it’s been covered by wood
Nearby, inexpensive white plastic chairs
Thin, stained and unused
Line the side of their house
Inviting phantom guests
To sit down.
In the upstairs bedroom
A curtain drawn as blinds hangs
Brightly colored
Defiant in the face of poverty
Inside a girl hides a diary from her parents
And dreams of the day when she is grown up
Young lovers kiss in the darkness
A hungry baby’s whimper is heard in the night
A radio
Left out on the front stoop
Plays a familiar song
To an empty street.
The people living next to me
Are proud
Keeping what they have
Admiring their courage
I ask myself
Who am I to complain?
(Asia may not know, this LIX city split baby boomer now ranks himself as an in denture charred sir vent reflecting on that painful instant when enamel collided with frozen water versus the recent removal of all teeth - courtesy of periodontal disease, and reckons how quaint that facial fracas).
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inxs of cold playing air
froze natural pond, where
over head Canadian geese did blare
honking the latest goose sip loud and clear
when from behind a bush
(color antler protected doe against fear
of smashed pumpkin) did peek a deer
alert to any danger by parking
upright either one or both ear
lest predator doth lurk and induce fear
while Harris Family and friends
oblivious attired in wintry gear
which protection from cold caused difficulty to hear
necessitating cupped gloved hands
to punctuate every muffled word
to be but barely heard
akin to talking with mouth full of custard
above the quiet riotous mirth
from this then gawky child nerd
precariously maintaining balance
on his skates and glide like a bird
such attempts made
this then boy appear quite absurd
ah, if only this mind of mine
did two step quick think
but woe misfortune awaited
across the bumpy natural rink
blithely jettisoning myself hither and yon
like a rolling stone going plink
unaware while in camouflage pose
disguised as one sneaky slippery fink
that snuck up in a blink
that found me squarely face down
shattering left front tooth
immediately discovered
via tongue as private sleuth
finding me in extreme agitated state forsooth
as if on fire from red hot chili peppers
wrought from jagged booth
winning sympathy from parents
who did level best to tend distraught son
who ushered playback of events
with less disastrous rerun
praying for an angel
to grant reverse outcome brought none
gut wrenching grief
immediately terminated former fun
damage irreversible and
perfect white smile forever broke con!
When the preacher asked Do you take this man
The groom thought this was a thrill
The bride replied I may as well
Being no one else will
When the preacher said Do you take this woman
For your awful wedded wife
The groom replied Oh my
You mean the sentence is for life
Two families sitting side by side
Watching each other like hawks
When the Bride and groom stepped outside
Instead of rice, they threw rocks.
It was a romance made in heaven
If you want to know the truth
She was in love with his pick up truck
And he loved her front tooth
They went on their honeymoon
To a cabin on top of the hill
There was furniture on the front lawn
In the back there was a still
He promised her he’d do his best
And some day they’d have it made
So he decided to go back to school
And finish second grade
Now you might think this is funny
And filled your heart with laughter
But they never worried about material things
So they lived happily ever after.
No, no, no!! It’s half past ten!
So what happened to my alarm then?
A power cut!! That’s just my luck.
And now the toilet door is stuck!!
Brushing my teeth I hear a crack,
Oh no it's my front tooth cap,
I’m smiling with a toothless grin!
And the dentist cannot fit me in!’
The warning light tells me one thing,
My petrol tank has nothing in!
And the station’s twenty miles away,
To get there I can only pray.
The cyclist on the inner lane,
Shakes his fist, it’s all in vain,
For I’m driving like a man possessed,
A flash - a speeding fine no less!
A message appears on my phone
It’s the missus, she needs a lift home
I have to assume that’s what she text
As I seem to have misplaced my reading specs!
Now my cell phone battery is low!
And the signal has no bars on show!
And each and every traffic light
Is showing red, as if to spite.
Oh no!! What is that up ahead?
Traffic cones all white and red!
The diversion is twenty miles,
But I soldier on - I’m in denial.
The flat tyre is the final straw,
I’ve no petrol and what’s more
I know it's a pointless task to fight
When your day doesn’t start out right!
I ain’t enough, and I know that truth
Like a blade in the chest or a cracked front tooth.
She’s gold-dust real, while I’m broke and bruised—
Tryna be a king in worn-out shoes.
She walks in rooms, they freeze in awe,
Whole world bends to her silent law.
Me? I’m background noise, her “almost-there,”
She could blink once and they’d all be there.
I hustle hard, give soul and skin,
Still feel like I ain’t ever gonna win.
Every joke I drop, she half-way laughs,
I write love in books; she skims right past.
She don’t need saving — she’s fire, not glass,
But I keep bleeding just to make her ask.
Like if I shine bright, just one more time,
She might say “damn, you’re finally mine.”
But deep in the dark where my demons feed,
I feel like a draft pick she didn’t need.
Like I got lucky — a glitch in fate,
And she’ll wake up soon, say “this was a mistake.”
I scrub my flaws, I polish pain,
Tryna earn her heart like it’s some campaign.
But what if love ain’t earned or won?
What if I’m just not the one?
What if she stays just long enough
To prove I’m right — I’m not enough?
What if I break just to see her free
And she don’t even turn to look at me?
I ain’t her type — I’m her pause, her maybe,
The good guy role in her coming-of-age story.
She’s lightning, thunder, a thousand suns,
I’m holding candles, dropping puns.
But still I stay, and still I try,
Stackin’ stars to gift her sky.
‘Cause even if I ain’t “the one” she needs,
I’ll be the man who plants the seeds.
So when she leaves — ‘cause queens don’t beg —
I’ll rise alone on shattered legs.
Knowing I gave more than enough of me,
Even if she never truly did see.
Some of the neighbors
Complain about the house across from me
It stands apart
From the neat lawns
Wide driveways
And picket fences.
Some say
The people who live there
Inherited the house from their parents
Years and years ago
When the area was marshland
And it was common to see
Hunters and fishermen.
A winding street
Wide enough for two cars to pass
Serves as a boundary between us.
The house once had a broken window
A gaping hole
That gave the house a reckless character
Like the missing front tooth
Of a mischievous young boy
Now it’s been covered by wood
Nearby, inexpensive white plastic chairs
Thin, stained and unused
Line the side of their house
Inviting phantom guests
To sit down.
In the upstairs bedroom
A curtain drawn as blinds hangs
Brightly colored
Defiant in the face of poverty
Inside a girl hides a diary from her parents
And dreams of the day when she is grown up
Young lovers kiss in the darkness
A hungry baby’s whimper is heard in the night
A radio
Left out on the front stoop
Plays a familiar song
To an empty street.
The people living in that house
Are proud
Keeping what they have
Admiring their courage
I ask myself
Who am I to complain?
Becoming a teenager,
Parents place wager
That by sweet sixteen,
You will have been
Kissed and experienced
Puppy love
While stars twinkle above!
Turning twenty one,
The greatest feeling
Under the sun,
Graduating from University,
Told you are very pretty,
The spark of falling in
Love instantly,
Hearing wedding bells distantly,
Then, Getting married,
Being picked up and carried,
Over threshold of new home,
Labour pains, a big groan,
Birth of a beautiful baby,
Husband murmurs, my
Brave lady!
Child’s first day at school,
Front tooth missing,
So cute and cool,
Children grow up, graduate,
They date,
Get married, cycle in action
Get married, third generation
The joy of a grandchild
The day he or she recognised you,
And smiled,
Happy moments captured
As they all happened,
And locked in parts,
And segments of everyone’s hearts!
We (me and the missus)
live in a decent
accommodations low income
quite modest rent,
which facility lacks no shortage
of gossip mongers
with mail delivery the major event
many old people smelling of unguent
faux superman thumping chests nsync
with hooking thumbs around
suspenders feigning to be affluent,
and self important as former
triple secret double agent
yeah, minus the snitches,
the one bedroom apartment
at highland manor ranks
as most satisfactory ascent
to appease our taste, and
general environmental ambient
aspects compared to other
housing situations of ours
so, despite most every nosy, ancient
snooty, hoity toity...tenant,
particularly one butch herd gal
with a cock eyed louey, facial accent
a perfect spectacle for circus big-tent
single bucked sharp front tooth
sparkles, mocks, glistens...
as if brushed with Pepsodent
of course displayed "FAKE"
seventh heaven-sent
friendliness, when poor us
near being penniless with only tencent
experienced a warm welcome
a short time after moving here
but demeanor thereafter went
postal - stamp ping like the dickens
as if yours truly an unrepentant
sin nurse stir jokester,
nonetheless minds hateful words adamant
lee averse to cast aspersions,
cuz a friendly gesture linkedin
with my preference to be cogent
practicing what this atheist doth silent
lee preach, sans attempt tubby tolerant
in the face of someone belligerent
attentive to mine credo, dogma, ethos...
while alive in this world be tolerant
of others, whether he/ she wuzzent
pleasant still recalling days of yore,
I felt disgusted with myself when hell-bent
to hurl expletives (adding insult to injury)
if somebody bad mouthed me,
thus object lesson not requiring fervent
fanatical religious fervor
plus gluten free and NON GMO
improving health of Clark Kent.
I
Between Juliet and me
Devotion thrived . . .
We stayed all day and all night
In dark, hidden places, picking watercress for the moon
Together we lived, Juliet and I,
Among worm woods
Friendly gardens
Doing silly things,
Avoiding the city’s hastiness,
Befriending rural life,
Hiding behind palisade fences
Among stunted grass,
Waiting for sunset’s glow to light up
The dark paths of our stolen love.
I remember us running talks with
Anne of Green Gables
On the greenishness of a stable summer.
And when the church bell tolled
For the vespers,
We ran across the external nave,
Our faces frowned with shyness,
Thinking? we are full of ourselves. . .
And I loved her
And I loved her name
And still love it.
Fret not, O’ Juliet
But read to me
Like you read, that memorable Friday night
You and I sighted frescoes on the rapier-thin
Rim of dusk’s azimuth.
II
I sang your songs, O’ Maria,
In the days grandfather lived and smiled on
With his broken front tooth stained by age and sageness
Your narrow, sweet face paled and showed signs of the
Dim past
I do not know who you were, dear Maria
I did not know you deeply,
But with strings straightened across hard-bending bow,
Earthen pots,
Grass-flutes,
And ivory samba,
I have discerned all that happened to you
Through ancestral lyrics laced with drops of love.
In those days,
There lived Maria,
Mother of sons and daughters,
And she had dark eyes and dark lips
And teeth whiter than clouds . . .
In those days
There was confusion and strife
But Maria made the best out of them
Because she had love so fragrant
And her soul bled with devotion
And every word she puked had love in it.
Trenches, valleys, gullies
And images of blissful youth
Blended carefully, forming imposing pictures
Before her charming eyes.
Her name pokes my ribs gently
And she knew well how to write love-letters
Some of which have been reserved in the museum of
Memory where they eternally reside,
The cellar of the soul
Rolls of parchment, browned by time,
Season the words of love in them stronger.
Here, my vigil candles
Have ceased blinking
And have glowed the more —like the
Curved ends of the crescent moon —
Just for your name, O’ Maria.