Long Kraft Poems
Long Kraft Poems. Below are the most popular long Kraft by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Kraft poems by poem length and keyword.
*NOTE: (Her name is actually pronounced Jo-anne)
My Aunt Joan, with dark sparkling eyes, was my FUN aunt!
The baby girl of her family (my mother was the eldest),
Joan and her husband Clifford lived in a small town 25 miles away.
I loved going there, especially being dropped off for a week in summer!
Aunt Joan’s husband Cliff was a teaser; I loved to see him
playing with Joan as they acted like flirty teens.
This I never saw between my own mother and my stepdad.
Joan would pile me and my sisters into her car
and take us to the grocery store for barbecue items and goodies -
the kinds of foods my mom would rarely buy for us.
Kraft macaroni and cheese she would fix for us– my favorite.
At night we horsed around, ate popcorn and saw movies.
I recall we even had a pillow fight one night!
Joan’s young son Chris played catch with me, and Uncle Cliff,
an amateur league baseball player, took us to see pro games.
Aunt Joan’s family moved out of state, so I hadn’t seen her -
not even at family reunions - since I left home too, nearly 50 years ago!
She’d got very sick after Cliff died, and she passed away this last May.
I pray she is reunited with dear Cliff. God bless my lovely Aunt Joan.
June 30, 2020 for Regina Riddle's In Loving Memory Poetry Contest
IN LOVING MEMORY of JOAN (Owens) Wolford 11/3/1939 to 5/13/2020
The Champion
Controlled by remote desires I trip the laurel fuse of longing ancestry
My Mom had been chosen to compete diving from the high platform of
Hitler’s mania for ‘Kraft’ ‘Freude’ living space terror raised arms and all in
guns blazing a misplaced childhood offered on the altar of manic delusion
Wreaths gathered dust on unmarked graves white crossed monuments
administered torches blazed parades marched lined the ‘Higher Faster
Longer’ ‘More Ideologically Corrupt’ abuse of innocent festival of youth
Replaced demounted sacred Mount Olympus for Auschwitz and Stalingrad
My mother was no Jesse Owens who blackened Nazi dreams of whiter than
white no ‘Black Consciousness Runner’ shoving gloves to the sky in post-fascist
Munich 1972 quite close to Dachau where Jews Sinti and Roma vanished
at the hand of Swastika’s psychopathology for denial distanced denied memory
A colour TV to watch remote from a distance was the closest she ever got to
her dream of honour and glory disgraced by politics assassinated like Israeli
athletes in a continuation and preview of fanatical devilish monsters high and
low jacking innocent sports for propaganda politics malignant ideas and ideals
In 1944 there were no Olympics titanic battles were scrambled instead in
General’s Admiral’s chessboards and tactical blood baths no dives into chlorine
and water just rotting gassed trenches exploding the dreams pawns in the Games
crushing to bone meal the Peace with their tanks and grenades fusing demise
1948 came to London awaking from ruins and rubble and the brain washed
German Olympians were banned from all sports had they not spread eagled
their passion prostituted their vigour for eugenics death Fuehrer and Fatherland
My mother tainted blemished in blood and in water a fallen hero on her sword
09th August
Written for Healing Peace and for the contest 'Olympic Mania'
'Tis well-known that any pasta concoction will always me appease,
But I reckon my all-time favorite is plain old macaroni and cheese!
Ah! That simple but hardy fare sets my old taste buds a-twitchin',
When my spouse announces, "Honey, supper's ready!" from the kitchen!
As far as I know Mr. Kraft invented this delectable mixture,
That has over the years become a staple American fixture.
'Tis easy to prepare - on the box is the simple instruction,
And you won't clutter up the kitchen making a big production!
I've sampled exotic pasta dishes in romantic Roma and old Napoli,
Such as fusilli bucati, vermicelli, lasagne, fettuccine and ravioli.
They were scrumptious but if ever my palate you want to tease,
I'd prefer a hefty helping of plain old macaroni and cheese!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 7 in Linda's "Pasta Paradise" Contest - August 2010
My first grandchild was turning three,
sweet girl with a motherly bent.
The perfect present seemed to be
a dollhouse; so, shopping we went.
She found one not by accident -
real bells for the front and back door,
three stories, carpet on the floor
two-car garage, a three bedroom,
kitchen and bath. Who could want more?
Memories on the breeze presumed.
She had moved on, Kid's Kraft was done.
Trying to hide my discontent,
I asked, “What is wrong with this one?”
“It’s not real.” Not like home she meant;
her place, the five-room flat they rent.
The Little People caught her eye
"Here is my house," I heard her cry.
there's mom, dad and me, just like home."
With three dolls to boot, a good buy;
no chic decor, no polychrome.
written 1/30/2018
in heyday
making caramel apples
care-a-mel or car-mel
that waters the mouth
sticks to the teeth
deliciously wrapped
around a rotund apple
sour or sweet
my kids would unwrap
each kraft caramel
drop them into the pan
and wait for them to melt
we’d put the apples on a stick
and dip them into the gooeyness
place them on wax paper to set
of course we might just go
out to a festival and find
the fancy kind
but a kid must at least once
make their own
oh that first bite
the one that sinks the teeth
deep enough to go through the apple skin
and find the snowyness of pulp
that tangoes with
the caramel delight
in the heyday of autumn
with my kids
i could just taste
the way it was back then
10/19/2022
Fall Flavors Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Theme: Making caramel apples
38.4154017°, -76.5341214°
A waterwheel, raceway, grinding stones (bedstone and runner stone), gears, shafts, and a hopper for grain, Diet. The crested honey buzzard is a specialist feeder, living mainly on the larvae of social bees and wasps, and eating bits of comb and honey(qilaat)Inuit The People at Funks Pond.Analog-to-digital conversion.absolute event.a combination of shutter speed aperture
that determines the amount of light reaching the camera's sensor. manufactured by Kurtis Kraft in 1949 and 1950.Punganur Made cars and had a Milling Mill on the Creek. in the 1930's they built Sports cars and sold hovercrafts in the 1933 the sold shares of there company to the public. They became famous when the wife woman began infusing honey with vanilla beans:infused honey is made by adding whole Vanilla Beans to our raw and unfiltered honey. It's a perfect balance of sweet and vanilla taste.They shut down the company
and moved all the equipment to an undisclosed place Selling the Motor Company to Frank Muntez
Expenditures/costs negotiated/spent before filming begins, including source material rights (for adaptations) and salaries for director, producer screenwriter, and actors.
Whammy Bar ( Little Black Egg.....)
Funks Pond(revamp)
(RUMOR HAS IT) Ernest T. Bass was involved in an interracial relationship with black model Donyale Luna_ they had a child in 1967 he never recognized the child. In 2001 his unrecognized granddaughter began tossing stones at a Mall in Mississauga Canada. It was said she was sing "The Creeks to Dry" skip along in bootie shorts, a white tee shirt and a sleeveless blue jean vest. It was said that she had large beetle bugs in her purse. Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!)
Written By: Pro.Tuum Proximus Maritus
and Doctor Uxor Eius Est
of Wobble Board Fame Inc.
Red Cow Music and Lyric Company
British White Recording Academy
Belgium Blue Sound Prep Inc.
all Produced and Ex-Produced
By Black Angus "Jumpan-Pumpin"
with permission by Star Anise Leather Co. LLC
Copyright Pending
Patent approved
"Cheezey-greazy sour Dill
with Yeasty rolls: Man thats
deliisous!"
Written By:
Huba Datl Chol
Circa 1969
Revised the other day(2023)
My first grandchild was turning three,
sweet girl with a motherly bent.
The perfect present seemed to be
a dollhouse; so, shopping we went.
She found one not by accident -
real bells for the front and back door,
three stories, carpet on the floor
two-car garage, a three bedroom,
kitchen and bath. Who could want more?
Memory on the breeze, presumed.
She had moved on, Kid's Kraft was done.
Trying to hide my discontent,
I asked, “What is wrong with this one?”
“It’s not real.” Not like home she meant;
her place, the five-room flat they rent.
The Little People caught her eye
"Here is my house," I heard her cry.
there's mom, dad and me, just like home."
With three dolls to boot, a good buy;
no chic decor, no polychrome.
Happy memory? not so true,
but truly it is in a way.
Only one went shopping, not two.
I bought that dollhouse on display
the fancy one, for her birthday
and sensed her dissatisfaction.
Her mom had bought the other one,
small with three dolls a child could clutch.
Three’s magic, mom’s gift so much fun
while mine sat at my house untouched.
written 02/03/2018
"Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers…"
Every time I hear a kid recite this twisted rhyme,
I'm 'minded how 'gainst Mother Nature it's a crime.
What that peck of peppers was no one can tell,
Perhaps banana, jalapeño, cherry, bell.
But whate'er they were, it's plain, at least to me,
That such a peck as that came off no bush nor tree.
For years this simple nursery flaw
Has scraped, and scoured, and rubbed me raw,
And in my very craw the thing's been sticking.
So to bring the problem up to date,
And to try and set the record straight,
I've checked with Vlasik, Clausen, Kraft,
And all agree the notion's daft
That peppers can be pickled prior to picking.
Author's note: Of course, there could have been a typo in the original manuscript, and Peter actually "packed a peck of pickled peppers", or maybe Peter, himself, was partially "pickled" when he picked 'em.
Entered in Tom Woody's Nursery Rhyme Wackiness Poetry Contest on July 16, 2024.
Kraft Macaroni and Cheese and Chef Boy-Ar-Dee boxed pizza
If I had a dollar for every time I ate these two as a child
I could probably buy a desk, a computer, and a lava lamp
If it was not quite enough for all three, maybe I could buy a lava lamp
And beads to fit in my doorway, I do love that seventies look!
And a fake fur chair that yells my name in pink and orange
I would buy hip hugger bell bottoms if there is any extra money.
It is funny how certain foods take you right back to your childhood.
My husband and I cannot even look at a chicken pot pie.
When we were first married, we ate two chicken pot pies
And two frozen macaroni and cheese and half loaf of bread each
For the first two or three years, until our daughter could cook.
Helen is hysterical, so witty you laugh until you cry,
She’s a little spit-fire, 4 foot 11 -- a bit of a short fry,
Now I can say that because she knows it’s said in jest,
There is no finer person, as a friend she is truly my best.
We met while nursing where we had so much fun,
Managing to laugh at work yet still get the job done.
While we have switched jobs and moved to a different place,
We are only as far away as it takes to pack our suitcase.
At my Mom and Dad’s funeral I was lost and very sad,
She sat by my side, filling in as family that I no longer had.
Always there in my life for the very best and worst of times,
If I need her, she gets to me, over obstacles she climbs,
Following major surgery she came to nurse me to health,
Her kindness, compassion and care, is her greatest wealth
She babysat my children and made my favourite meal,
Kraft dinner and homemade applesauce, oh what a deal.
She said I needed a pick me up, so she bought hair dye,
Slowly applying the hair colour, careful not to get in my eye.
When my hair went purple and ended up a flashy, brillant red,
She said you don’t need a mirror, just know you don’t look dead.
Our husbands understand our bond, having been through so much,
We never miss a birthday, Christmas or any reason to stay in touch,
I sometimes feel guilty as it seems she is always there to help me,
She’ll say “Oh don’t be so silly, it’s just because I love you Lee”
I never feel so good as I do when I am with my friend Helen,
Together we’ve nursed patients and even the occasional felon,
We met on my first nursing job and she became my best friend,
Some forty years later, our longtime friendship still has no end.
Dedicated to my best friend Helen Tilden
Written July 21, 2011
For contest “Ode to a friend”
Won 6th Place