Long Made to order Poems
Long Made to order Poems. Below are the most popular long Made to order by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Made to order poems by poem length and keyword.
A young discus thrower hurls the discus with all his might
It lands, churning up the soil somewhere nearby
The discus thrower is happy, or perhaps disappointed
If his rival has managed to throw the discus further
Let’s try to give these competitions some meaning
Is there anything in them, hidden behind the obvious
Behind the victories and defeats – perhaps a thirst for a little power,
A sublimation of war, or, conversely, the peaceful labour of farmers?
Or do competitions serve as a consolation for those
Who cannot or do not wish to compete?
But perhaps someday, another time,
When discs are made to order,
Tailored precisely to the thrower’s palm.
When visiting a mansion
That’s become a restoration,
It’s cool to see a property
That’s way above your station.
The verdant lawns with giant trees,
The gardens all in bloom,
The stained glass in the windows
Of each river-facing room…
The made-to-order furniture,
The statues and the art,
The butler’s pantry where the fancy
Dinners get their start…
The books in leather bindings
Lined up neatly on the shelves,
The lamps and fixtures next to chairs
Where folks relaxed themselves.
It’s fun to fantasize about
The life styles of the rich.
I wonder, though, how they would fare
In my house, for a switch.
Verse I
Who serves up burgers in pie squares
calling them different I’d beware?
Who makes the golden arches look rusty
stealing the crown from ol’ Burger King?
Who dulls Taco Bell’s ring?
Everyone knows it’s Wendy’s
Who’s gives away a Dave’s single for free
and now accepts EBT?
Who’s never had to ask where’s the beef?
The double double’s all the proof you need
Who’s got real smile appeal?
Everyone knows it’s Wendy’s
(Chorus)
And Wendy’s has golden fries
Treats that will make you sigh
And Wendy’s has chili as well
a baked potato h-o-t as hell
(Refrain)
It’s the best
Above the rest
Above the rest
Verse II
Who’s freckled face on their slogan
red pigtails and old-fashioned ribbon?
Who’s waay better than other fast food
more than finger licking good?
Who’s thoughts of McD’s fades
Who’s dreaming of quirky braids?
Everyone knows it’s Wendy’s
(Chorus)
And Wendy’s is never frozen
It’s all made to order
made to order
Yeah made to order
And Wendy’s has fizzy soft drinks
And Wendy’s has every flavor
me thinks
(Refrain)
It's above the rest
Above the rest
Above the rest
Flute soloing
Drums soloing
Verse III
Who’s sipping on a strawberry frosty
While sing-i-n-g her favorite song?
Who’s flipping out about her new striped dress
all the while she’s skipping along?
Who’s Dave’s daughter a-n-y-w-a-y?
Everyone knows it’s Wendy’s
I picked you up like a “shiny”…newly minted copper penny
(How cliché)
it was your kitten fur voice (O how you would hate that)
the avocado texture
with which …no matter what wild wicked hour I would call you...
you would answer
You shimmered like sunlight on the forest floor of my needles of neediness
glinted off the shiny chrome and twilight blinders of my made to order
searing searcher’s soul
You were the perfect portent…with your torrents of torment
to wash clean my jet and emerald caves
Or was it you who found me?
White gem silent…hidden behind my poetry in a seat in that Inn
I was listening to the hues of blues
stenciling the deep red shards of my heart on the unlined pages
of a blank black journal
I wore cool light blue and soft sheet cotton…like a cloud kissed sky
I was... light as air and deep as the sea
You became my heroic touchstone…my one true thing sapphire sparked rock of glory
I hung you around my neck
I yoked myself with the weight of you
I hung myself…faithfully to my “cross to bear” -your endless denial of our love
You were lithe…thin as a straw…tall as a poplar...white as ash and grey as coal except for the orange hot fire in the center ring
…of your cigarette
I mistook it for the flames of our unearthly love
In truth...it was just the firmament of your eternal coolness reflecting back the stars
of my own piercing need
so yoked by my own wanton weave …I drove on blindly
the ghost of your emotionless carcass still draped around my neck
“Leave no man behind”
I know you laughed and told them
that it was just a fire pit left in the cave
by the Queens of the Stone Age
(Some loud angry band you loved)
less real (to you)
but far more ethereal bubble dreamy and ever lost in time (to me)
than the newly discovered “writing on the wall”
*POP*
Our youngest sister thinks that she’s ‘all that’ and a ‘bag of chips with dips to go’.
She’s very popular and thinks that she’s ‘made to order with a heavenly glow’.
When she gets upset, she can be uncomfortable and ‘hot as fire’.
The last of twelve, we all call her Julie, but her real name is July.
Our brother Gus seems always to be in the middle of something,
and doesn’t really know if he’s coming or going. But don’t push him, because he can be pretty hot headed sometimes. He prefers Gus, but his real name is August.
You might not like her, but I would love for you to meet my sister Jan.
Jan is the oldest of the family clan, but her real name is January.
I have always been a bit on the shy side, but there is absolutely
nothing about Jan that is shy. O, she can be nice ‘s o m e t i m e s’,
but she’s not gentle and tender like April and me. No, no, no; Jan can
be cold as ice.
O me? I’m like 40, leaving 39 behind.
I’m like the little engine who thought he could,
but kept trying until he finally did.
If I were a day of the week, I would be Wednesday getting over the hump.
I’m September, entering a season of anticipation,
with plenty of energy and things to remember.
09012016 cj PS
Patented and perfected
All the right ingredients
Customized and manufactured to specification
in the right environment
in the right quantity,
FDA approved
And physician prescribed
Packaged and delivered
to homes and businesses…
Love as a product,
If love can be sold
in capsules, bottles and tin cans,
At every street corner, in shops and online,
Advertised in Newspapers, TV, Radio and Internet…
Love can spread everywhere
carried in pockets and purses,
Love will be a potent antidote
to the venom of hate.
~10/16/22
~Contest: A Brian Strand Premiere Choice.
A cord had been stretched, from our hearts to the moon
across foolish years, to a life far beyond
It coiled around a chair, down the hall, past the door,
that were groomed by the light of a bright afternoon
I was floating on the sea of cold hardwood
Prone on my back, on a lavender rug
Examining the nail of my left-hand thumb
with a phone at my ear, and faith in the unknown
You had aced your exams, now we were making our plans,
only tied to a kiss, by a small ivory phone
With a ring on my finger, that would bind foolish hearts,
that were blinded by love, without worry or fear
Invitations were mailed, a church was on hold
There was a cake made to order, and a world unexplored
You were glued to my ear, I was wrapped by a thread
that tugged on my heart by a long-distance word
The light from the yard was scored by the blinds
but, there on the floor, our world was sublime
I was bound by a cord that tethered all time
To a life yet to live, but together we'd find
I was linked to your voice, by a young foolish heart
While I sailed on a sea to a lavender star
____________________________
Submitted to "My Foolish Heart" contest: Feb-2021
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
_______________________________________
It’s a couple miles, give or take.
The sun’s gone down across the lake.
It soon might be snowing.
Just a couple miles, I don’t mind.
We’ve got to leave the past behind
And look where we’re going.
Sometimes an awful silence.
Sometimes an empty roar.
Some things we keep inside us.
Some things we can’t ignore.
Now what’s done is done.
Nothing’s ever black and white,
But I’m glad just to be right here,
So glad just to be right here
Walking with you tonight.
Now, honey, let me take you home.
I wouldn’t want to go there all alone.
I’ll share with you whatever peace I own.
Come on baby, let me take you home.
It’s a simple theme; give and take.
We both have made a few mistakes.
We change like the weather.
Just a simple theme; do what’s right.
The wind cuts deep so hold on tight.
We’ll get there together.
Some gifts are made to order.
Some gifts we can’t return.
Some people never listen.
Some people never learn.
I can’t change the facts.
Crying doesn’t set things right,
But I’m glad just to be right here,
so glad just to be right here
Walking with you tonight.
So, honey, let me take you home.
Let’s take advantage of the house we own.
It’s much too cold to want to sleep alone.
Come on baby, let me take you home.
(This a new Version created using many editing suggestions from Linda:)
I picked you up
like a “shiny” newly minted copper penny
it was your kitten fur voice
O how you would hate that...
the avocado texture of it
with which
no matter what wild wicked hour I would call you
you would answer
You shimmered like sunlight
on the forest floor of my needles of neediness
glinted off the shiny chrome and twilight blinders of my
“made to order” searcher’s soul
You were the perfect portent
with your torrents of torment
to wash clean my jet and emerald caves
Or was it you who found me?
a white gem
silent, hidden behind my poetry
sitting in a seat in that Inn
listening to the hues of blues
stenciling the deep red shards of my heart
onto the unlined pages
of a blank black journal
I wore cool light blue and soft sheet cotton
like a cloud-kissed sky
I was light as air and as deep as “a thousand leagues under the sea”
You became my heroic touchstone,
my one true thing sapphire-sparked rock of glory
I hung you around my neck
oxen yoked myself with the weight of you
I hung myself
faithfully -to “my cross to bear”
your endless denial of our love.
You were lithe…thin as a straw… tall as a poplar
white as ash and grey as coal
except for the orange hot fire in the center ring
....of your cigarette
I mistook it for the flames of our unearthly love
It was just the firmament of your eternal coolness reflecting back
the stars of my own piercing need
Yoked by my own wanton weave … I drove on blindly
mind spider webbed
the ghost of your emotion-less carcass draped around my neck
“Leave no man behind”
I know you laughed and told them
that it was just a fire pit left in a cave
by the Queens of the Stone Age -Some loud, angry band you loved
Less real to you
by far more ethereal and ever lost in time to me
than the new found “writing on the wall”
It's a soup that's made to order never from a store
A little bouillon treat that's filled with herbs galore
Not the kind you get from packets, no not that kind !
with itty bitty chicken bits it has onions you can find.
I start with chicken base then add a clove of garlic,
turmeric and salt with a dash of home made magic.
I simmer for an hour while the veggies steam & swim,
singing in a playful voice, "a little blessed hymn".
I start with a clean counter then tuck my hair right in
wearing pinafore of white, with little ducks that swim
I stew it then I stir it, with a large wooden spoon
telling funny stories to a soup that cooks til' noon
Made with love and kindness, it really hits the spot,
I cook it just like mama did, when I was just a tot.
It's a soup that's made to order, never from a store,
this little bouillon treat is filled with herbs galore.
Enjoy !