Long Neater Poems
Long Neater Poems. Below are the most popular long Neater by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Neater poems by poem length and keyword.
waiter waits for what eater repeated owes
weeder and seeder share a dish of blackcrow
bleeder feeds pleater ancient historicity spore
debater fingers slayer by his triptych meter foretold
delayer is the later ladder is a leader
heater warms hot water for pessimistic bleater
feeder and the breeder share one tether seater
deletor utters what reader couldn’t shouldn’t read
teaser tases the taser tallowing blind build
pleader prostrates before greater hater
slater covers what the rater refused believed achieved
render neater a pasteurized fleeter what is in the feeder
the teeter is the tether
gator is the greeter
leper breeds the crater
killer is a living giving beater
--------------------------------------------
seder sets the table for the bleater
x-ray sees breeder flayed through knot whole
meteor deletes what is the longest tiny universe
millimeter feet inches nothing measures unmeasurable
seer teases what the waker dreads
cheater your emotional beater crawling fastest dead
slayer and greeter share one scarface grater
later is the delayer tripped into uncreated crater
discourse already dispossessed buffets the maker
mediator utters
greater grater grader enters uncraterless recursion
Spare a thought for that poor man
Who used to drive the night soil van
Compelled to do his job at night
So as not to give the ladies a fright.
The butt of many school kids jokes
Never spoken of by more polite folks
But our business was his business
And we were the cause of his distress.
Just think about it
He had to deal with all our sh*t
In the days before septic tanks
He did his work without much thanks.
What right does a man have to judge
Another who works with faecal sludge
If you had to handle someone's excreta
Do you think that you'd be much neater?
And I can well understand
Why no one wanted to shake his hand
But spare a thought for that poor man
Who used to drive the night soil van.
GALAXY YOKE BOMBARD MASTICATE LUSH VISCOUS
Some say our galaxy’s a feeble joke,
and I’m not one to beat about the bush:
two stellar oxen, fastened by a yoke?
Mythology, to me, is so much mush!
The moon, I guess, is made of white hibiscus!
I never take the storyteller’s bait.
We intellectuals are on our guard:
there’s no such thing as ‘destiny’ or ‘fate’.
Don’t follow fables: that way, you’ll fall hard.
I put my faith in science. Am I ‘woke’?
The president says toilets fail to flush.
That SCOTUS justice – is he an old soak?
He’s fond of beer – does that make him a lush?
The others go for substances more viscous,
which take a little time to masticate:
the pleasures which we’re able to retard
feel somehow more intense. Thus, ‘better late
than never’ means, ‘Bill Murrayed’, not ‘Bill Mahered’.
And words have meaning. If you want to ‘stoke’,
it doesn’t mean you’d much prefer to ‘gush’:
and on the whole it’s not as bad to ‘poke’
(because it’s less invasive) as to ‘push’.
Is ‘facial hair’ a neater term than ‘whiskers’?
So, my belief. I’d rather be a plate
than sharp and incomplete – ie, a shard.
It’s nobler if our pilots sit and wait
than if they get the order to bombard.
Walking my Tiger home, if only I had known
in the small print of the sale there was a claws
in a nutshell it was leading to instructions about feeding
if I'd have known I would have stopped to think and paws.
Fur this big cat ain't no Vegan it eats food like Becca Teagan
in fact any living creature roaming free,
which fills me with disquiet since the Tiger's fussy diet
means the only thing at home he'll eat is me.
In retrospect, methinks I should have bought a Lynx
it's much smaller and so are what it will munch
if I'd thought about it sooner I could have got a Puma
since there's cattle up the road he'd have for lunch.
And what would have been much neater is an elegant young Cheetah
since they leave us human people well alone,
much much better than a Panther, that would not have been the anther
since all there'd be of me left is my bones.
So the motion I have carried is to go off and get married
and when the Tiger's ate and belched and had his fill
get re-wed to some more wives, they'll have short but happy lives
and they'll help me to keep down my feeding bill.
For contest 'Walking my tiger home', sponsor David Lindsay
We had some neighbors with a sign, “Do Not Disturb.”
They’d vanished when a moving van came to the curb.
How thrilled we were to learn new folks were moving in.
Would they make that old house look neater than a pin?
Originality they did not lack!
They started painting everything, and everything was black!
We feared the value of our property would drop
next door to this atrocity. They would not stop!
We noticed many other things that seemed to us bizarre.
That pair would only paint by night and neither had a car!
The sign “Do Not Disturb” remains, so now we think about
the fact we’d never seen our former neighbors moving out!
Behind their house is where we saw them the first time.
We’d heard them digging in the night, but that is not a crime!
My spouse peeked out the window. Working fast, and with no sound,
that couple started planting bushes on a wide fresh mound.
It spooked us, and I pray they didn’t see our curtain lift
while spying. They’re at home all day. I think they work night shift!
Our house is now for sale; we stay indoors with our two cats.
Before each dawn, I swear I hear the sound of bloody bats!
Written 9/12/2015
In the race between evil
and the good, I ran ahead
to name myself the loser...
Cheater, cheater.
Because I know that all my words
can't translate into action...
(maybe half, maybe a quarter)
I'll betray myself in sweet small doses,
until I'm fully poisoned over,
as human nature takes the better portion.
So if I can't be the winner,
I'm a traitor to them both-
Angel, angel,
Sinner, sinner.
I don't want these self-constructed meanings
to belittle the wrongs that graced my future
with learning,
that made me stronger.
(It has to get messy before it gets neater,
if patterns tell us something)
So I'll let those others
have all the words, however way they want them.
And I'll trade my gold medal
for a day of living,
for just an hour of freedom.
What in heaven's name would we ever do, oft' I wonder,
If not for the humble pencil eraser to correct our every blunder!
Plaudits to Mr. Hyman Lipman for his inventive intellect,
For patenting this mundane gizmo for our errors to correct!
A pencil eraser is also useful for musing bards to chew on,
While striving to concoct verse when their cleverness is nearly gone!
I've even observed folks surreptitiously cleaning both of their ears
With a pencil eraser that would cause alarm to an otic doc and his peers!
A weekend golfer's pencil is sans an eraser and for good reason I suppose,
Otherwise, with certain "adjustments" to their scores they would all be pros!
In this enlightened and technological age, correcting mistakes is much neater.
No eraser needed - just click a button on the computer called a "deleter!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Honorable Mention in the "Rub It Out" Contest - June 2010
Men and puppies are the same
Training them is just a game
Of a lot of patience and
A gentle firm living hand
Teaching them what's right and wrong
But training can be very long
If they're stubborn and wont do
What you are telling them to
Smacking puppies on the nose
With a rolled up paper shows
Something wrong they are doing
On a rug peeing and pooing
Is not where it needs to be
It's more fun on a big tree
It's the same thing with your guy
No matter how much they try
To aim inside and not out
When they pee its like a spout
Making a mess everywhere
They're punishment can be severe
Puppies like to destroy things
Enjoyment it always brings
When they find a brand new shoe
On it they will chew and chew
So you say bad dog--they cower
Knowing you have all the power
When a man makes a big mess
Your patience is put to the test
Making them clean up they will
Be in the doghouse up until
They learn to be a lot neater
Making your life so much sweeter
Puppies like to run and jump
On top of you--sometimes they hump
Your leg and those of your friends
Push them off, it has to end
Like when a guy is all excited
His fire is soon ignited
And just attacks from behind
It is not polite or kind
So you push away your lovin'
Till they learn not be be jumpin'
It might take a ling long while
To reverse this wild style
That both men and puppies share
But with just a little care
You can turn them both around
With some tricks that you have found
Treating them when they're behaving
With some yummies they are craving
Or getting a little rough
When they're bad--showing tough love
Never knowing how they'll be
Full of fun or misery
Just take it simple and slow
And improvement will soon show
For so long
It’s just been you and I
Darting around the house,
Every weekend and holiday
Each summer, easter, autumn.
Circling the place that was our home.
Be it tag, hide and seek or simon says,
We’d always end up round
This little tree, on the ground
Basking in the sunlit garden.
Our grapefruit tree, branded with
12 sets of our initials
Set side by side,
Each neater and more intricate
Than the next,
Cuddled up against each other.
It grew as we did,
Its fruit ripening slowly throughout
The summer months,
From a harsh yellow
To a soft tangerine.
But unlike the tree as we aged,
Our blossoms began to wilt.
The end came that summers day
At your coming-of-age party.
When those words left your mouth
I felt all the air betray my lungs,
All the blood my heart
And all the light my eyes.
You left me broken and helpless,
Sobbing in front of our tree
In between shouts of
“Happy birthday!”.
Now every valentine’s day,
I buy a grapefruit from the shop,
Doff its orange coat
And remove its fiery insides.
Place it neatly on a ceramic plate,
Slowly eat it
Pearly cell by pearly cell,
Each bite leaving a tremor in its wake.
It tastes sweet like our childhood innocence
And bitter like your so-called “child’s play”.
Could our verity be any unique?
Whenever the twenty-first century is antique,
Links are the best way to deal with everything
When even the pencils will betide self-replicating,
The whole would be vastly improved
And, the fortune of the rich would be approved
Would remove those in requisite thoroughly
There will be no grimness when there is no infirmity.
Autos would be entirely electrical
Fuel and diesel would behoove skeptical,
News and journals will be made ready on digital
People react to move visions by a flash signal.
Parcels won't be uttered for a long time
Besides, astonishingly swiftly and in prime
On voice order, pencils and pens would work
Baring, scribble down all that we would rework.
Everybody will include a robot in their house
That will perform anything, including catching a mouse
It will cook meals and neaten the home, with no screams
Additionally, conceive all your expectations and dreams.
The earth will deem even as sole leader
A man with odd propensity and backbone neater
We might glean the option to dwell out in the cosmos
And we'd stray out on rockets to shop for blue camos.
How slightly does the world treat spot our sacred history?
Purvey future posterity with a canvas to our glittery
Sober-mindedness is the best way to crumble in terror
Indeed, pens will be automatized to abject horror.
Written: February 06, 2022
Let's explore digital technology Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Simon Rogerson