Long Nutcrackers Poems
Long Nutcrackers Poems. Below are the most popular long Nutcrackers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nutcrackers poems by poem length and keyword.
Marionette soup comes in a midnight bowl
Filled to the brim with mushroom tumbling
Under the golden moon dolls cut their strings
Nutcrackers on crash diets sink saltines
Welcomed to float inside awhile
But not included in the price of dining
Russian dolls introduced to soup dive in
One after another dropped into darkness
Each one becomes smaller and smaller
Within themselves only they know why
Perhaps pretty painted faces need flavor
To appreciate the human race
There is no soup for you!
Forget about spoons at this hour
Two dainty fingers made of wood
Hold the bowl sides in balance for taste
Preparing to slurp what is inside
But marionettes are dignified. They don’t slurp
Discerning humans understand this part
It is an art
They have come to eat you and your soul
Assuming you have one worth consumption
My seven-month-old daughter, beside herself
with swirling fascination, has unfolded
her tiny arm a bridge for Christmas elves’
safe passage, unconcerned she’s being scolded
by Papa Grinch - who’s clacking away at this.
From my perspective on the less-festive couch,
I cannot see her sparkling eyes witness
magical animation, but I’ll vouch
something’s ‘bout to go down, based on a smile
and ding-a-ling giggles; her angelic face
lit up as though nutcrackers march awhile
icicles melt the seams of man-made space
where a dad’s unaware this innocent time
(just for me) gift wraps Naomi’s holiday crime.
11/30/2018
we strolled midtown for awhile
hints of sun followed us beneath the
bavarian alps i was taken by
the snow capped mountains creating
a brilliant show of diamond crystals
calmly reflecting from storefront windows
holiday displays of santa klaus at his best
i would say we continued past rows of homes
collected like doll house's just to the left a tiny
bike shop i rushed in grabbing the new basket
to fill with fresh granny smiths from thee upcoming
market in view just to the right african violets lined
the the entrance way leading
to the hidden park
a quiet nook in the middle of town square i thought
masculine most of all quite charming face to face with
the subtle statue of thomas mann my form changed
i was abruptly aroused by his daringness fine liturature
art and playwright mann consumed me with folklores
gothic tales the infamous lounging of salzsburg crest
instantly a brisk chill blew over my foundation dazed i was
walking upon frauenkirch
our lady of munich doting downward to my tiny existence
i gathered myself in a very suspicious haste walking backwards
staight into the kneeling black horse knightless his back emptied
a daunting task for the bishop beyond my fascination
of castles christmas past nutcrackers wooden trains walking dolls
springs bolts screws and coo coo clocks sounding off at midday
displaying the woodcutters the milking maids in german town
Branches frosted in ice
Wonderland magic waiting in awe to thaw
Pink blossoms ready to surpass hibernation
Spring in their timeless steps
Candle wax waned
The Little Drummer boy back in his box
Wrapped in kind tinsel for resurrection
Illumination darkened
Nutcrackers remain
Shells of Christmas foreshadow and abandoned
Reality calls for beating another lonely retreat
Granny back at the nursing home
Outsourced happiness
Spoon fed dribbles ooze onto parched kerchiefs
The turnings of life confined to a wheel chair
Business fast as usual
Reindeers on holiday
Santa's temporary visa faded and expired
An immigrant nurse from foreign shores
Gives love and caresses
Crossroads once more
New Year is dawning to the spin of the earth
The token Jesus nailed and forgotten leaves
A silhouette on the wall
Another chance wasted
Forgotten resolve scripted in blood and in vain
Soldiers will march again for irreverent fortune
Guns frosted in ice
27th December 2019
The Real Christmas
From Black Friday to Christmas Eve,
presents to purchase and wrap.
Office and family parties, visits to relatives
platters of food and gallons of alcohol.
Trees dressed to the nines in dangling baubles
and twinkling lights.
Continuous Christmas carols blaring from radios
and loud speakers.
Wreaths and decorations to adorn tables,
night stands, credenzas, book shelves.
Lights hung in strings so large that rows
of houses look like runways for planes.
Inflatable Santas, snowmen, reindeer and nutcrackers
compete for space in yards.
Nativities, pageants, plays special music
consume congregations.
Is this the real Christmas?
Or perhaps it is-
A silent night, two thousand years ago
in a dimly lit cave.
A babe wrapped in woolen clothes
lying in a sheep’s feeding trough.
Only shepherds and loving parents
in attendance.
An infant destined to change history.
The future savior of the world.
There was no activity at all in the prairie on this marvelous day.
Peaburger was happy to be off on his journey, on his sweet way.
Had a knapsack on his back, and warm ideas in his adventurous heart.
He could hardly wait to get away from his ex-wife and make a new start.
Ex-wife had moved back in with her new husband and their kids five.
He did not care if he ever again saw any of these prairie dogs alive.
His ex-wife came to the mouth of the hole and yelled “happy be!”
He rolled his eyes, not caring about her, or her new husband Gree.
I am just too generous, too giving, the always-will-finish-last kind of guy,
He lamented as he walked, talking himself into being meaner with try.
Around noon he got out a peanut, and started to eat with his crackers.
He was promptly surrounded by five hungry spotted nutcrackers.
He rolled his eyes to the sky and asked “Why God? Why me?”
He had given those nutcrackers all his food by a quarter until three.
I'm doomed to always be that kind of guy he lamented to angels above.
Young frisky prairie dog who had been watching promptly fell in love.
The nutcracker stockings could not resist the urge to play
They sat silent without moving the entire long day
But at night when the lights went out,
They began to whirl twirl, twist and shout
We are the nutsies, the mighty mighty nutcrackers!
These silly humans are crazy, completely polly-wackers!
The humans heard, and two ran down the stairs.
But the stockings were fast, and they hung and gave them stares.
The humans went back up and the nutcrackers sang a song.
Footsteps on the stairs, they knew it would not be long.
The humans were bamboozled, confused, did not know what to do.
Nutcracker stockings kept them on their toes until a quarter after two.
The puffy, stomach-fattened mouse is closing in on the ballerina.
They do a pirouette around the stage, and the crowd goes wild,
But silently. This is an auditorium, and we are taught obedience
By the mere reverent attitude of Nutcrackers past.
But do the children go silently wild?
Or are they now ripe for a good nightmare?
Are they as enthralled as the adults?
It is a tradition to go wild, because our parents said
It is so, and so it is.
Does any adult ever slightly wonder
How we would feel, if we ever saw these skating
Mammals in the same room, and they were the
Same size? If you have ever observed the scary
Quickness of a mouse darting out of a kitchen floor crack,
You might realize that children, who are much smaller
Than this Christmas mouse, might feel intimidated
And fearful after such a show.
Any thinking adult would hope to not see the mouse
And the little girl the same size in real life also.
However, on stage, with the tin soldiers, and the Christmas tree,
We are okay with it
Some of us, not all.
A Christmas ballet, some of us
See yearly, without thinking of that.
When the children cannot explain their nightmares,
Do we figure out why?