Long Livingroom Poems
Long Livingroom Poems. Below are the most popular long Livingroom by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Livingroom poems by poem length and keyword.
All those years when you were growing so fast
Your laughter, no sweeter sound have I heard
Tiny fingerprints I knew would not last
An impossible wish for time deferred
Snowy day's play-acting Lord of the Rings
Dodging spider webs in the summer heat
The livingroom cluttered with your plaything's
I long for those days with every heartbeat
The need to see your face overwhelms me
You are over a thousand miles away
I try to stop the tears from breaking free
When you are not with me, my world is grey
From the tempestuous child that you were
You're now my best friend my soul whisperer
11/22/2019
I want to fall in love with a Sonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Melani Udaete
If you are daring, strong of will and character, not adverse to hardship
or to long treks into the wild then the 40 day virtual walk
along the Appalachian way is the adventure for you!
Explore hill country all the way from Georgia to Main without ever leaving your Lazy Zee Boy. Each day, trudge, walk scrabble and climb, making camp in the open or in the rugged huts sometimes provided for long distant walkers. You must go forward in all weathers so bring suitable clothing.
No soft bed for you. A sleeping bag on the Livingroom floor is essential.
Grow a beard. Provide a bucket and some dry leaves for when nature calls, leave them behind the sofa. Turn off the air con.
After 20 days you will stink and so will your home, and you may suffer from sores on you buttocks, bring creams. inform the neighbors of your absence, take a cell phone take hundreds of pics of you staring into the distance.
In your backpack all the food you could carry is going stale,
eat it anyway and ration the meat jerky. Stay hydrated
drink from a large barrel you keep nearby.
You cannot switch the walk off until completed. At night keep the
headphones on so you can listen the sounds of the wild woods
as you toss and turn.
At the crack of dawn carry steadfastly on.
You have almost made it, now you are virtually stumbling
down from the last ridge but then disaster strikes your youngest
enters the room to switch on a cartoon!
Your official certificate will now always read 'failed'
and not long after your heroic walk your wife will leave you
departing angrily with her own virtual boyfriend.
Which one is your favorite?
Hm….
I think hard.
A was my favorite two weeks ago, when she helped me pick up the livingroom.
T was my favorite yesterday, when we sat and cussed at a stupid t.v. show together.
S is usually my favorite, because she is four, and we can laugh and play and be stupid
And A and T make fun of us, and hurt our feelings and crap, because they are pre-teens,
And usually not my favorites.
I look at my husband, who was stupid enough to ask me
That question.
Who is your favorite? I retort.
Leave it to an only child to actually
Be able to
Answer this
With a name.
DUH!
My muse Trixie does a cartwheel into the hallway
I am not amused; pretend I have not noticed.
She throws a blue elephant into my toaster at breakfast.
He hits me with his trunk on the way out.
I act like this is normal.
She walks through the livingroom riding on the head of a lion
She is whistling a bawdy song that would have my husband blush.
If he could hear her.
Luckily, he can’t.
A large green spaceship comes crashing down through my roof.
I give Trixie my mean side eye glance.
My dogs follow her as she skips down the hall.
They are barking their heads off.
What is that about? My husband asks.
He looks annoyed.
I give in and pick up my pen.
Trixie 1
Me 0
Where fatso's by the fireplace
His wicked fingers teasing
A velvet suit shows ashes on
for yuling peoples pleasing
When awnings on a window top
reveal a shadow stalking
And presence through a livingroom
embark on children's stockings
That strolling down a corridor
will bring a puppy lapping
When Santa bends to pat him down
and calm him from his yapping
And move along to lend his toys
to all good girls and boys
Unloading what are gifts to bring
for promise and for joys
That every light we go to be
are Santa's for the cause
When Christmas Day means gifts to be
an evening with the Claus
*Image of Palm Tree Lights Trunk Wrap by Christmas Lights, Etc.
ILMO Our Eldest Brother Kimo (James)
Our sixties Christmas--as my memory serves, where
our eldest brother freshly cut one Norfolk Pine from
our country grove. He then rope-tied it atop our "65
Dodge station wagon. Brother plays the ukelele as
dad drives us home with "Banana" barking out back
at tailgaters.
Our home in town has a driveway that curves uphill
from the avenue. Entangled large 60's Christmas lights
wrap around the trees. Then they are roped to each of
the other trees up the drive. My eldest brother then
nailed holiday-adorned Menehunes to the trees. He had
made them in his high school woodshop class, --as
Christmas elves.
Higher up the drive was a largely lei-decked Santa
wearing just his swimming shorts surfing on his board,
while dolphins pulled an outfitted Christmas canoe
laden with gifts. It was a car stopper and the talk
of the town.
The livingroom Norfolk Pine had an army of Hawaiian
Christmas bells. Again, my eldest brother carved-out
coconut shells that were then cut in half and each was
threaded with a fishing line where a seashell dangled
at its end.
The tree was adorned with an assortment of seashells
having varied shapes, sizes, and colors. Freshwater
pearls were glued to draping light-green seaweeds.
They shine like silvery Christmas strands. They are
pale in contrast to the dark-green-colored Norfolk Pine.
Our Christmas in Hawaii lasted until 1969 after Vietnam.
That is when we started celebrating our family Christmas
on the mainland, --save one. ~~Aloha Brother
*An irreplaceable Christmas period to be remembered always...
2022 December 15
*1st Place*
Christmas Spirit
~~Regina McIntosh: Judging 2022 December 19
SMOKEY THE CURIOUS CAT
Through all his years he was such fun,
Companion, Friend, and more;
Adventure was his middle name,
And I was never bored,
As long as Smokey was around,
He'd brighten up the day.
He'd snuggle, cuddle, kiss and swat,
and say,"Come on, let's play."
I had some turtles in a bowl,
As cute as they could be;
They disappeared while I was out,
Found under the settee.
I had my suspicions,
About how they got there,
So I watched my little buddy,
But he never moved a hair.
Then one day he strolled by me,
With something in his mouth.
I followed him to the livingroom,
He crawled beneath the couch.
He placed a turtle on the floor,
And gently lay beside it,
Just watching it so patiently,
Not hurting it a bit.
Slowly it stuck out it's head,
Then it began to move,
Curiously he watched it go,
Thought Smokey,"He's got groove."
"I like this tiny little guy,
I wonder what it is."
I reached in and picked it up.
"Busted, here's the miz."
"These guys will die without their bowl,
Smokey, don't do that;
But I still love you best you know,
You are the best of cats."
Judy Ball
Looking for a car, fair to presume
Brownie points for value I assume
I've got the ideal car for whom
Promises never a day of gloom
Perfectly loaded for bride and groom
From the mirror dangles a heirloom
Plenty room in case of baby boom
Gargantuan trunk can store a broom
With your supply of Fruit of the Loom
Itty bitty gas it does consume
You'll never notice a single fume
Comes with that built-in new car perfume
Ever so convenient in our combe
Parks itself into your livingroom
So come to my office to resume
I'll gladly make you some elbowroom
Let me clear off the desk move the bloom
So away you can sign with my plume
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on February 12, 2018 for contest POETRY IN MOTION sponsored by KIM RODRIGUES - RANKED 2ND
I want to attach stuff to the ceiling of my house.
The house is full, the walls are saturated. The ceiling is blah.
All white, boring, basic, not quite clean, but bland.
The tables are cluttered, no one has decorated their house more.
Any thing I ever truly liked is on a wall somewhere.
If you gave me something and it is not on a wall, I did not like it.
At all. Even a bit.
The only room in my house I have not touched is my husband’s bathroom.
I have not really touched his office either, but he has confiscated all of other
People’s paintings because we paid for them and only liked them for thirty
Years and put them up there himself, nose to nose, butt to butt.
There is one measly solitary picture in his bathroom, plain, a bit of green.
Wordless.
Plain black frame.
Not my style.
I cannot even go in there.
I am looking at the ceiling fans in the livingroom right now.
If I puncture little holes in the ends of the ceiling fans, I might be able to hang something.
Water guns or match books or barrettes or salt and pepper shakers or something.
I know better than to try to attach stuff to the ceiling
Made of flimsy ceiling tile.
We barely escaped a lawsuit once
When 42 of them fell down, missing an
Insurance man by a couple of inches.
Wasn’t that awkward too, as he had just insured this little beauty.
They are supposedly up better now with better wires.
But with craftsmen being sneaky these days,
Do you really trust that?
Moving along. The cupboard knobs in the kitchen look insanely blah.
Eleven years ago, it was a glimmering, gleaming, spanking new house
And we were so pleased, as we had designed it, our way, for us.
We immediately eliminated a dining room, preferring to eat in the
Livingroom on the multitude of couches, or recliners, reposing as we eat.
I have noticed so many things about it lately that are
Not spanking new, glimmering or gleaming, but I do not care one whit.
I have outgrown the need to spend hours and hours
Doing something I despise doing – namely housework, vacuuming
And other crazy stuff that is a waste of time as it perpetually needs
Re-doing.
I believe in living every minute of the rest of the time you have
Left doing stuff that is worthwhile, and fun, which explains my art
Studio full of paints, and brushes, and glitter, and canvases always
Sitting, waiting, with big white smiley faces on big white smiley backgrounds.
And my computers, one in my back office, and one in my garage office,
And four bathrooms, for two people. I wish I was kidding, but I am not.
No, it is no longer a glimmering, gleaming spanking house, but we love it.
It lives in the woods, with woodland creatures, and it has flowers galore,
It is a haven to bees, and wasps, and spiders, and snakes, and a boxed turtle too.
It is the only place I ever want to be, it is heaven on earth to us,
Our perpetual go-to-spot and best of all? It is home! My stay-cation palace
In the woods. I cannot imagine heaven being any more suited to my needs.
Best of all? It replenishes me nightly, helping me to eliminate the gloom
Of a sad day, or the memory of a lost child, who does not dare dream or hope anymore.