Long Mash Poems
Long Mash Poems. Below are the most popular long Mash by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mash poems by poem length and keyword.
What can you boil, mash and stick in a stew,
Share yours with me, I'll share mine with you.
What comes in lovely golden chips,
You can bake them or they can even be whipped.
They come in beautiful skins,
Eat one and you'll never be the same again.
Their wrappings come in brown and red,
And they're just as filling as bread.
They are white on the inside,
Eat em' and they will put a grin on your face 10 miles wide.
What is this beautiful creation,
That is now a sensation?
Of course it is Taters,
Eat 'em alone or share 'em with the gators!
Eat 'em fast or eat 'em slow,
Eat 'em to and eat 'em fro.
So I'll leave you with a closing word about Taters,
They are 10x better than maters!
Love 'em alot or love 'em a little,
If you don't love 'em at all I couldn't give a whittle!
When a witch met a fella named Paul
while shopping at the Sorcerer's mall
She accepted his invitation
to attend the Halloween Ball
He picked her up next night
in a black limousine
No broom needed for her flight
On this moonlit halloween
The ballroom was filled with goblins and ghouls
Who seemed to be enjoying the bash
Their dance steps broke all the rules
As they did the monster mash
Paul looked at the witch
with a bloodthirsty desire
But she never suspected
That he was a vampire
"May I dance with you"
He asked her that night
To the beat of a tango their dance did ensue
But he couldn't resist, so her neck he did bite
And with blood on his lips, they danced all night!
~~~
10/14/16
'V'' New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
is it love of which we seek
is it love we dare not speak
like two stars shining in the night sky
like to love birds soaring way up high
like sausage and mash or chips and cod
like heaven and hell or the devil and god
like cheese on toast or love and hate
you know they are the one, they are your soul mate
kiss me cos you love me kiss me cos you care
kiss me cos these feeling we both share
love me cos im weak your my cryptonite
waking up every morning to a beautiful sight
of you while your sleeping you hair such a mess
just mine and your moment lets forget all the rest
this love is untainted this love is so pure
this love is a boat sailing from shore to shore
sometimes we do argue but make up its absurd
you are my lover you are my song bird
Form:
Should I write a poem about Halloween,
full of psychological horrors and gruesome things?
Like deep romantic wounds getting infected,
herpe kisses or Donald Trump getting elected?
I could lean on shuddery tropes, like haunted houses
or more real world threats, like cutthroat spouses.
I could make you look up scary looking words, like Syncretism.
gasp What caused that creek in the floor?!
Who’s that banging on the door?
Is that blood on that rag?
Is there a body in that bag?
Is that your husband in drag!?
Relax, have fun, chill-out,
Oh, better get a bowl of candy out.
Happy Halloween!
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Songs for this:
Monster Mash by Bobby "Boris" Pickett & The Crypt-Kickers
I Killed You by Tyler, The Creator
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*Merriam Webster: Syncretism: combining different forms of belief
Oh, how much life can one decade contain?
To hold my first girl, trembling in my arms,
And after one more child, a handsome boy,
Returned to college - Berklee and guitars ...
I moved from Boston to a job - St. Croix,
Then left that paradise, the Virgin Isles,
Found one more internship in Pharmacy,
Back to the states, in Tampa, Florida ...
Returned to Boston for more school and work,
Then fell in love and married, (second time),
Soon after, one more daughter to behold,
A drug store job, with happy wife and kids.
So sad when Challenger blew up the sky ...
And when a blight called AIDS took many souls,
As Wall Street crashed and MASH went off the air -
The POTUS shot, and poor John Lennon killed.
And yet, I saw Mike Jackson "walk the moon",
While walls in Berlin came a-crashing down,
Computers, cell phones, MTV, and games ...
As technology creates ... a brave new world.
~ 6th Place ~ in the "Remembering The 1980's" Poetry Contest, Michelle Faulkner, Judge & Sponsor.
I was meeting me girlfriend , sexy Cherry Russ
When I saw her hands go up to her mouth and she did cuss
There was this whooshing sound
And before I looked round
I was hit by the wing-mirror of a bus
With a broken jaw, to get to hospital was a mission
That wasn’t the end of me plight of painful petitions
Instead of wiring up me jaw
Something worse I implore
They mistook me for a patient that needed circumcision
Through wired teeth, I said I‘d sue for loads a cash
As I ate through a straw blended veg and meat and mash
Suddenly I had the urge to sing
As the wires came free, I screamed
Caused by the nurse accidentally knocking on the laughing gas
They going to kill me I thought in agonising pain
So I tried to escape by jumped through the window which is insane
They didn’t tell me I was two stories high
I must tell you humans don’t fly
Now I got a walk identical to John Wayne
Steep slate slopes glow in autumn gold
Below jagged white aretes.
Strong young men hunt among the crags
Pursuing choice chamois and deer.
Valley maids harvest purple grapes.
Laughing children mash-dance in vats.
Women stir yeast to set the brew
And lid and cork some oaken casks.
Auld men rest warm on terrace slates
Of a sunlit vine-wrapped arbor,
Slowly sipping first blush vintage,
Telling tales of mighty hunts.
Bright eyes eager for fontina
Laughter and motsetta slices,
Raising glasses filled with Syrah
To toss their years a grand hurrah.
Their hearts are on the mountain highs,
But sunset colors paint their eyes.
Jasper Newton Daniel was born in 1850.
He hailed from a small town called Lynchburg in Tennessee.
Jack was born on a farm located in Moore County.
He was one of twelve children born to the family.
At an early age, he started a distillery.
Its product would be a world-famous sour mash whiskey.
In a rectangular bottle with a black label,
“Old Number Seven” proved quite popular and able.
Despite the Civil War, and strong legal repression,
the whiskey even survived the Great Prohibition.
Jack Daniel never married and had heirs to bestow.
Therefore, the business went to his nephew Lem Motlow.
These two men earned the Tennessee whiskey a big name.
The Brown-Forman Company made it achieve more fame.
Jack Daniel’s success is something no one will deny.
This is strange considering the Lynchburg town is dry.
I thank both wikipedia.org online encyclopedia and Jack Daniel's website for information I obtained to write this poem.
My journey through life has seen so much
far have I traveled and much I have done
seen so many things that most others never do
the rock of Gibraltar, with teems of scary monkeys
traveling out we sailed through the Suez canal
wondrous mysteries that delighted an eight year old
camels striding along, enormous crocs floating by
the land so close you want to touch it and run on it
Zanzibar our next port of call, ram shackled boats galore
the heady scents of spices abounds teasing the nostrils
the vivid different colors everywhere flood my senses
on to our destination Dar-es-Salaam harbor most picturesque
a miss mash of ships some luxury most tramp ships or boats
sails of all colors, dark people unloading trunks from the holds
this was a time taken out of time, a way of life quite relaxed
just think of the things ahead, the adventures that awaited me
written 08/08/2013
contest Your Journey
in 1958 the Suez canal was open later it got blocked by sunk ships
It's Christmas Eve ...
Such a beautiful one, too
Big snow flakes drifting down
The street and house lit up outside
And Momma ... Momma's in the kitchen
She's cooking like crazy, as she always does
Radio playing carols and silly Santa songs
And her singing along, as she prepares a meal to admire
Oh, she's an amazing cook, and Christmas Eve is her time to shine
Thanksgiving and Easter, too, but tonight is the "Big One"
It always has been for us, and her preparations, the cherry on top
Baking pies and cookies and turkey and real pudding
Squash and turnip and mash potatoes
Gravy, stuffing, yam puffs, peas, beans ...
You name it, she has perfected them ALL
But the singing, the joy, the sparkle in her eye
That's connected to one primary thing ...
My brother, home from the service
He's been a Marine for many years now
But somehow he has always made it home for the holidays
Momma depends on it, you see, and he knows that
So ... he always finagles his "leave" so Christmas Eve is Momma's
He always has, and she counts on it like the sun
And THIS year will be the grandest yet
She has truly outdone herself with cooking and decorations
And she even sold some of her favorite jewelry
Just to buy a special dress ... a beautiful Christmas dress
But as I listen to her singing along with the radio
A tear stains my face, and a lump catches in my throat
You see, I just received a telegram
My brother, the light in Momma's eyes, has been killed in action
And he won't be home this year ... or any
Oh, if I could but trade my life, I would
Just so I wouldn't have to be the one
The one who has to tell my dear Momma
That her blessed baby boy -
Her Christmas angel ...
Is gone.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Sad Christmas" Poetry Contest, Dear Heart, Judge & Sponsor.