Long Hat Poems
Long Hat Poems. Below are the most popular long Hat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hat poems by poem length and keyword.
Have you tossed your hat in the ring yet?
Or will you continue to wait for a safer bet.
Have you put a toe in the water yet?
Or will you wait for a pair of waders so you won't get wet.
Have you bought that plane ticket yet?
Or will you be waiting for your relatives to be further upset.
Have you joined that club yet?
Or are you waiting until you are in a better mind-set.
Can you tell me when and how you will change your mind-set?
So, I can give you an entry ticket,
To the game of life, before you become in concrete set,
Or shall I keep it in my pocket,
For someone who is a safer bet.
Form:
I served my hat, and boy I served it well
and everyone in the church could tell
everyone was able to taste, the full splendour of my hell.
All eyes dropped and even glasses fell.
even heaven rang a bell.
I served that hat and served it right
this was truly my delight
Yes!!! Yes!!! Yes!!!! it was overpriced, and I will not and shall not wear it twice
I served it up nice and strong
even wore my matching thong
on my row, no one could hang
I'm a diva at top of my game.
I served my hat, and I began to slay
everyone new I didn't come to play
I'm a true mademoiselle
I served it so enchanted, it cast a spell
they all stepped back and let me by
I took no prisoners and this is why.
I aim to please and satisfy.
to all my ladies, you must comply
Serve that Hat straight to the sky.
If you ever espy a latitudinally
and longitudinally challenged
older yet shopping savvy woman,
(wedded to yours truly
for almost twenty six years),
who stands approximately
four feet and ten inches
a strong hunch that gal
stacks up as mine missus,
she dons costumed headwear
to avoid station identification,
whenever she steps out
into the public limelight
anywhere outside these four walls
of our one bedroom apartment
here within bucolic Schwenksville,
the town that town forgot,
and the decades could not improve,
where all the women good looking,
the men strong, and the children
wise to the ways of technology.
When this logophile
quite a few pounds lighter
ever since I first became acquainted
with unnamed aforementioned woman,
she adopted predilection to don apparel
allowing, enabling, and providing
modus operandi to present herself incognito.
Ofttimes said spouse of mine
upon returning from
grocery shopping spree
(ever price conscious of various
and sundry commestibles -
with a knick knack paddy whack
give this doggone husband
a plant based NON GMO bone),
she can rattle off the prices
of targeted items on her mental rolodex
how much food cost at:
ALDI, GIANT, LIDL, WEGMANS...
While scurrying to and fro
hither and yon,
a stranger might unexpectedly
pay a compliment to iterated getup,
which bobbin noggin makes her
easy to identify, when yours truly
tags along, (but despite
being considerably taller
by almost twelve inches),
these spindleshanks of one
sentient, ship shaped,
shanghaied, salubrious,
slithering, snakish, stuttering,
sluggish, smashface scarred,
sober, solitary, sangfroid
skidamarink singing, Shamokin
speaking scrivener, scuzzy,
spunky, starved, submissively
suicidal, sunburned, senseless
salaried shuffling senescent
snoutish soundcloud shutterflying
snapchatting schnorrer
find impossible mission
to keep pace with the wife.
I come from the borough of Queens, New York
My classmates call me a Klutz and a dork
Those names pervaded my soul, taking a toll
Being at the bottom of the totem pole.
Then Dad took me to the town of Tortilla Flat
I walked into a store, bought a ten-gallon hat
I started talking like John Wayne, also bought some boots
It’s funny how a costume can make a mind slip its roots
The ranchers nodded with respect; I looked like them
Cowgirls smiled in my direction, one shone like a gem
She said there’s a rodeo at half past three
Come join us there, my friends and me.
I said sure, I’ll mosey down there
I’ll bring some popcorn that we all can share
When the time came, I walked into the ring
But through the wrong door, that was the thing.
Two guys lifted me onto a horse, and opened the gate
I shouted, “I’m not a performer!” but it was too late
The horse bolted out, then tried a somersault
I held on for dear life, couldn’t them girls call a halt?
They told me later, t’was the worst horse in the west
I flew over its mane, but it was a personal best
The crowd went wild, but I threw the hat on the mud
Dropped all the popcorn, wiped off the blood
The cowgirl looked adoring, said “that was so cool”
I looked at her, but my mood was cruel
Said “I’m a nerd from Queens, don’t want to pretend
Keep that dang hat, this all got to end."
Dad took me home, the worse for wear
He got me a baseball hat so nobody would stare.
I put it on backwards, I don’t really care
Buy the wrong hat, and it’s dangerous out there.
Travelling on the road for business gets old fast. The inside of one hotel room starts to look the same as another in any town you name. When you travel by yourself it becomes even more mundane. Customers, clients and/or prospects all have their own after-work lives waiting for them and seldom include you in their plans. So, as you depart at the end of the business day you are on your own, in a strange town.
You do get used to exploring cities, towns and suburbs on your own. You figure out how to avoid always eating in the hotel restaurant and you master the art of dining alone. For men like Josh, that usually meant eating at the restaurant bar. Even though he seldom ordered a beer, wine or other alcoholic beverages, the bartenders were always a willing party to chat with and enjoy some semblance of human interaction.
On this particular occasion, the trip was even more difficult than usual because Josh was having trouble at home with his wife. Whereas, some may think it a blessing to remove yourself from the situation, it just made Josh feel even more lonely not being able to talk to her to try to work things out. So, after putting on his happy and buoyant work-face all day to keep the customer satisfied, Josh donned his fedora and walked out the front doors of the high-rise office complex onto the crowded and lonely city streets.
The fedora was a relatively new addition to Josh’s wardrobe. Not many men wear fedoras any more. Josh’s wife thought he would look good in the hat and surprised him with it as a Christmas present six months ago. Josh was still getting used to wearing the hat, but received many compliments on his appearance while wearing it.
Without even bothering going back to his hotel room, Josh slowly strolled around the city streets lost in thought about the situation with his wife and wondering how they might resolve the loss of passion, the loss of caring and the loss of love in their relationship. Finally, he stepped inside the doors of an enticing pub to get himself some dinner.
The bar in this particular establishment had plenty of stools available to pick from. Josh sat down on one and placed his fedora on the empty stool next to him. On this evening, Josh started off by ordering a beer.
Yellow above the dredged-up earth.
hard hats, husky men
bent on constructive destruction,
Brush burning,
they flame throw their wands of
progress.
It all has to be done, done to be mended,
done to be done with.
Nature got too messy,
it overgrew its concrete margins,
it got above our work-booted
aspirations.
Clean-up crews sweep and press
against the head-on-winds
of a riotous environment.
Steel, hammers the seeded mud
crushing it of any taint of green.
Everyone knows this is obscene,
lips and ears must be temporarily closed
like the bleak roads ahead
and those dug over
below our feet.
The reason that she didn’t come to my last poetry reading
Was that I had but faintly praised her hat.
It was a monstrous thing which Mrs. Thatcher,
the Queen most certainly, would have shunned.
It was sort of like a jerry-built bird’s nest
Jammed full of something like seaweed,
Yes, like something straight out of a horror film, a “thing.”
My “Er, yuss, rather .. er .. interesting”
Evidently was not good enough.
She stamped her foot,
Picked up her cocktail
And left her corner – in a huff.
My hat! How petty can you get?
Perhaps my not getting too smitten by her hat and all
Had something to do with the fact
That that snooty husband of hers
Never acknowledges me when we meet.
The most joy I can get from him
Is a barely audible grunt.
I’m not petty, just very sensitive.
Quite different.
Maybe I’m just growing cynical. As I see it,
Most ordinary run-of-the-mill individuals
Can’t forgive a slight
More than just once or twice,
Let alone seventy times seventy times,
Like your true saint actually might.
Most folks keep accounts.
Come off it. You know they do,
Of course, they do,
Or a points system,
Except true friends.
But even there
I have my doubts.
True, friends like friendly bank managers
Wouldn’t dream of mentioning your overdraft.
No, they will lean over backwards
To extend generous terms of credit.
There are such things as
Interest-free loans, write-offs,
Grants and gratuities, but
Not even the IMF has limitless funds.
Only the most officious bank clerk
Actually likes bouncing checks,
Allowing no time lag between tit and tat.
But in the longer term
A balance sheet is drawn,
And even a benign auditor
Must draw a line somewhere
Between the troughs and peaks.
Lavender turkey eggs amid purple straw hat
With fake turquoise frosting,
She sits next to me in the hard pew
What kind of sugar ants will be parading up here now?
For I see this is real frosting she has added
A two-year-old wearing an engaging smile
Sits next to her. Not aware if they are related.
Church gets ultra-busy on Easter morning
Lots of strangers. Is that a Big bird hat?
False alarm. It is a yellow Easter basket hat.
Complete with a giant bunny that dangles down her back.
Made of faux fur, thank goodness. Little girls she sat
beside would be shrieking now if this bunny was real.
Girls cannot keep their paws off her bunny, which has googly eyes.
The next hat walking in has a jaunty cross pinned to the top of it.
The wearer appears arrogant, proud, haughty even,
A blatant contrast to Christ, who was none of these things.
Sh! Someone hisses. "Here is the minister." A hat-less man
Who immediately comments on the wonderful congregation and
The unique hats. He cannot keep his eyes off carrot hat woman.
Her creation is two meters tall - a giant blue bunny holding two bunches of dangling carrots, that take up so much of the pew, no one else can sit there. It matches her wild blue and orange flowered smock that barely covers her knees.
I wear my simple Easter hat with pride,
Cockily thinking I am both subtle and sleek.
Others begin pointing and laughing.
My Easter chick apparently got nervous
and left me several little presents.
I knew I should have made the background brown.
Hat Game, The Elevated Look!!!
Hat Game Sauce!!! Hat Game fire!!! Hat Game glory,
every hat that grace my head, tell a story.
Levels in the tilt, power in the stance
When the Hat sit right, it will make you dance.
When you see me, hatting up
know it's more than a brand. It's identity worn,
it's elegance in hand. The elevated look is more than style,
make sure you fit, this ordained profile. It's a state of mind, posture, and spirit.
The divine is at work, so nobody can kill it.
Leaving a mark, everywhere I go, slaying nations,
the grace only God can bestow.
From this Height, no class seems small,
if you're going to bring it,
you better bring your all.
This is how the Hat Game is played, serving the heat, elevate, rise, and repeat.
Keep stalking and staring, you will never be me, chin lifted not in pride,
but in practical relief. They studying the drip, but it's deeper than the fit,
it's authority you can't buy, recommending you commit.
Hat Game Heavy!!!! Hat Game Power!!!! Every stitch tell a story, every curve hold power, from grind in the midnight to bloom in the hour. This ain't fast fashion, this aglignment and vision
where faith meet favor in tailored precision.
The vibe is eternal, and the standards stay high
I just don't wear hats, I crown the why!!!
Lady Q like my new Hat Boo
I am a woman andhello
A hello
n hi! shapin' Hat
d beforeyouwearingthismiss======
I stand h=========
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d At o ======
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'tjumptofastI'matter to u====
like my new Hat Boo===
==
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I am a woman and hello, hello hi!
And as I stand before you wearing this miss shapin' hat
Look at Q
So don't jump to fast I matter to U
like my new Hat Boo
3/27/18
For Poetry Contest: Something Concrete
Sponsored by: Maureen McGreavy