Long Larder Poems
Long Larder Poems. Below are the most popular long Larder by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Larder poems by poem length and keyword.
The autumn winds are rattlin' the leaves of corn stalks in the fields.
The corn has been harvested and the farmers are calculatin' their yields.
Golden, yellow and crimson leaves are strewn along the country lane.
Autumn! What a glorious season! 'Tis apple pickin' time again!
Mornin' frosts spread a coat of icin' atop every corpulent punkin'.
Jolly kiddies gather at parties for an old-fashioned apple-dunkin'!
Skeins of geese are wingin' south with their cousins the Whoopin' Crane.
Autumn! What a resplendent season! 'Tis apple pickin' time again!
The branches of apple trees bend low bearing luscious apples galore,
Golden Delicious, Granny Smith, Rome Beauty and so many more,
Waitin' to be plucked from California's shore to the rocky coast of Maine!
Autumn! What magnificent splendor! 'Tis apple pickin' time again!
Ah! To lounge by the fire and enjoy popcorn and cider when the snow flies,
And at Thanksgiving to gather with family to savor Grandma's apple pies!
Jars of apple sauce and apple butter line larder shelves, the winter to sustain!
Autumn! The most delightful season of all! 'Tis apple pickin' time again!
Alas, I won't be pickin' apples from my one and only apple tree this fall!
Sneaky worms, hordes of squirrels and birds have eaten them one and all!
The way those varmints robbed me of my apple crop is a downright crime!
But despite it all, I still cherish autumn 'cause its apple pickin' time!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
(Not for the contest)
Continuation of Brodsky’s History of the Twentieth Century
1918. A flu pandemic in Spain takes hold,
From Kansas over the seas in America bold,
Women’s suffrage win the vote,
Their opinion is not remote,
Russia switches from the Julian calendar,
To the Gregorian, the west’s larder,
Russia agrees the world war to leave,
To forsake the German swastika sleeve,
UK navy air flying squad merges with RAF,
To make one dynamic force, to the Nazi’s deaf,
The Finnish civil war ends which did distract,
Germany away from their vile, aggressive act,
Nazareth and Forest of Argonne battles won,
Allied forces break the Hindenburg line rung,
The First World War ends with freedom standing,
Democracies will liberate and love undemanding,
Austria, Czech, Hungary become Republics grand,
A peace conference is held in Paris’s free land.
The man of the year is William C “Billy” Durant,
The founding owner and President of General Motors,
He engineers automobiles with speed, at some current,
Like sliced bread off a line to be given coasters.
(Billy Durant)
After Billy bought Chevrolet motors,
Of Delaware, to take the market’s rotors,
He made its head into a new entity,
In General Motors company identity,
But this man, called Pierre S DuPont,
Stole his presidency with great foe,
So this chief man Billy bought bowling alleys,
But died unknown to his lucrative days:
But Durant asserted in money terms our friend,
Technology, after which the war did quickly end.
Reference: History of the Twentieth Century by Joseph Brodsky
There’s a bear in the kitchen
He’s ever so rude
He’s drinking my milk
And he’s eating my food
He’s broken the table
He’s broken a chair
And most every surface
Is covered in hair
He’s smashed off the lock
That was once on the door
He’s ruined the curtains
And pooed on the floor
The fridge he ripped open
Stuff strewn all about
I’ve nothing for dinner
He’s eaten my trout
When this one is gone
I will do some repairs
Fit a strong door
To repel wild bears
But should they get in
Their work will be harder
I’ll store all my food
In a solid steel larder
© John W Fenn 06-12-2009
Form:
Is it about time I turned a corner,
And mix with more friends and not be a loner.
Grow with confidence push myself harder,
Nourish my body with trips to the larder.
Walk with my dog who I call Dora,
She's a French bull dog your gonna adore her.
Fill my day with plenty of action,
It's a great motivator and a helpful distraction.
Feel better in myself and people would know,
I'm back to reality with a smile and a glow.
Not to forget a past life on pause,
3years of bad trauma the probable cause.
Bringing up the horrors I saw,
The death of my partner who I miss even more.
The mother of our son and a good one at that,
But it's the time missed with him and where his life's at.
We had so much to do,
And places to see,
Grow old together and cuddle with me.
So hard to forget and realise its no more ,
I love you so much and that love will just grow.
The ovens sigh, the knives confess,
we season sin with gentleness.
Each soul, when carved, reveals a taste—
the butcher’s art, the baker’s waste.
The world’s our larder, stocked with schemes,
its saints are sweeter than they seem;
the sinners, tough—but well-marbled,
faith rendered down, ambition garbled.
O mercy, what a menu night!
The moon a lid, the stars alight—
each heart a roast of mortal heat,
each dream a spice too rare to eat.
So lift the cleaver, kiss the flame,
for hunger never dies of shame;
and whisper, as the bones release,
It isn’t m-rder—only peace.
:: 02.04.2026 ::
Once upon a time
I was, it seems like 100 years ago,
on an old fashion cargo ship, the carried all sorts
from potatoes, flour, machine parts, plastic flowers,
and tinned fruit, meat, and hats for the wife of the president
in Honduras.
For some reason, there was a door in my store room
it led into a cargo hold I filled the larder till it looked
like a corner shop. My task was to keep the cost of living down,
and the captain got a telegram from the company complimenting
me on keeping the cost down.
When the ship birthed in some obscure port, the unloading
took a long time and there was time to go ashore
have a bit of fun and a good steak with wine at a restaurant.
I was twenty-five and had a hell of a time, but nothing
lasts forever, the ship was sold to a Greek shipping company
and we all had to go home.
After what has occurred...not for the absurd herds who truths have blurred & turds have stirred but for the nerds who once heard purred...
When things addle & are oh so bleak
Trump in the saddle havoc will wreak
Chagrin at mandarin a tangerine freak
Will straddle the raddled.. no mystique
Without a paddle in a proverbial creek
Quips make the pips of weak squeak
A foolish clique who damnation seek
Monstrosity such animosity at the meek
Avaricious & pernicious ghoulish streak
Pomposity of atrocity bare faced cheek
The velocity and the ferocity does reek
Mother nature’s fears she does shriek
Lachrymosity at sneers her tears leak
Boasts from fossil fuel ghosts still speak
On her death bed the hosts posts creak
Any generosity our curiosity does pique
Consideration of others makes us unique
Veneration of a tried & tested technique
Approbation for appreciation we can eke
Will freely admit that I am a bit of geek
Ardour for a lexicon larder I can tweak
Another peek tinker changes do sneak
Armada of rhymes for times so oblique
Are these poetic crimes need a critique
On a whim send to a hack at their peak
Bloke with bespoke flair a chic boutique
Tim with rare warmth of a teak antique
Love your vim cheers you made my week
p.s It's outrageous as the earth does bleed to be freed must be courageous plead we maybe vexatious but need to be tenacious fight each sh*te jibe from Trump the chump's mendacious & rapacious diatribe... ta muchly to the gracious & vivacious Tim Hayward our sagacious & loquacious scribe who indeed does sow the seed to feed our good greed with his bodacious even salacious vibe & creed.. the go to for our voracious & audacious tribe...a breed who just love to imbibe..(don't be so cynical there's no bribe...me being veracious so use your swede.. pay heed make sure you read & subscribe)
Bones and their ash remain,
retain and nourish
the under-croft, the terrain.
The meadow green.
Bones replant.
The dead feed the living,
and the living cut down the living
to feed themselves.
The world must eat itself.
This is called husbandry and farming.
It is also called shopping and carrying,
killing, and butchery.
Those that eat only vegetables
also partake.
A grave is a half-way house,
Urns are waiting rooms.
The soil nurses bones,
worms wheel the earth towards the sky
for its blessing.
Osseous clouds seed nations.
What follows bone and bone ash
becomes the crop,
the tomorrow-cart laden
with its bone harvest.
Bone-flowers scent the air.
Bones underpin bridges and wingspans,
citadels of stone.
Bone dust scaffolds every stem and branch.
Bones in tombs and catacombs
are food for the larder.
A storage for generations.
Stars shed their elemental dust,
becoming bone fodder.
Bone ash is the genesis
of all unknown beginnings.
You humans walk about with ease
With no care nor mere concern
Where every step could maim or kill
And pilage upon return
Whether consciously or unaware
Your ignorance is noted
Oblivious to basic laws of motion
Where walking equates to floating
You boast of sciences and their order
Superior to all that lives then!
Yet upon much closers inspection
You thieve progress from our nests
What you do not know is undiscovered
As If it was always concealed in view
But your vanity and arrogance
Made what was plain seem undiscovered
Education is the key THEY SAID
And so observe wat more to learn
We have no formal education
Yet it is our knowledge that you yearn
Our cities require no government
Nor our storehouses a cooler
Our population knows no census
Yet all sleep with full-cropped bellies
Our currency of order requires neither rates nor taxes
Prepared for every season our larder is stocked by and far
How sexist can we be when our monarch is always a Queen?
Is not discrimination amongst ourselves what stunts unity and progression!
Tiniest of all beings yet the most enthusiastic workers
About from the ascension of Our Lady till the chill that summoms phantism
Our industriousness is favoured such as the work ethic we possess
Watch, carefully observe, learn from us and you will prosper
Imagine what we could do if we were you with all this knowledge
We'd bring order to the world and calm to all chaos
Maybe now you know to lose the botox that stiffens up your necks
Look down more timeously and remember we too are beings
What happened to poetry
And who was it that chose
No more rhymes in rows
That really paint our woes
Crows restraint still grows
Feint eschews all bestows
Cast of the past now foes
Taint not any faint echoes
So let’s remember all those
Each saint whose line glows
Before poems became prose
Enthralled by whining tweets
Forgot all of the shining feats
So John Betjeman not a don
Tennyson not a true denizen
Appalled no mining of treats
Silver lining dining on beats
Of Shelley, Byron and Keats
They scold old man Finnegan
Clear we no longer hold dear
Told never cheer Edward Lear
Jeer at another rhyming peer
Envoy of joy from yesteryear
Lewis Carroll it’s rather que*r
Fear don’t like Spike Milligan
Despair no old school wares
And that no one really cares
Shares Mr Dahl or Pam Ayres
As where are their flair heirs
Their pastime rhyme in pairs
Sublime as climb down stairs
I cannot contain my dismay
At dastardly scheme at play
Ignore what new poets say
Deplore every proper foray
Encore of gem Lemn Sissay
To spin is not a sin can inspire
No shirking the prophetic fire
The din of our poetic pariah
Right society wrongs desire
Smirking working class choir
Benjamin chagrin Zephaniah
I cry why are critics crippling
Tiff with any riff that’s tippling
As lovely rhymes are rippling
Shout how about IF by Kipling
Is limerick truly just a gimmick
Nursery rhyme is just a mimic
All my efforts are truly pyrrhic
Lexicon crime from older clime
Ardour for a larder in its prime
Duly checked into rehab clinic
Going to say it one more time
To all those who chose prose
It ain’t poetry if it don’t rhyme
Taught is a sort of dirty grime
Shirty don’t care if you glower
Rhymes cease rest in peace
They say from their ivory tower
Poetry they sour by being dour
Well I for one will never cower
Contest can amaze & always
Come what may.. will forever
REST IN POWER!