Long Off key Poems
Long Off key Poems. Below are the most popular long Off key by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Off key poems by poem length and keyword.
Double-dutch ropes slap the sidewalk -
snap - snap - snap -
braids whip air,
girls jump in, counting
uno, dos, three,
feet flick like drumsticks.
The ice cream truck jingles off-key,
icy lady shakes paper cups,
piragua man shaves ice into snow -
his knife scraping the block awake.
Pastelillos pop in hot oil -
spit, sizzle -
plastic cups clink with rum and cola,
congas crack, maracas shake salt in the air,
horns blare like chisme in heat.
Heels click-clack over concrete -
punctuating each spin,
each swirl of hips.
Whistles split the air -
one from the lifeguard at Jefferson,
two from the men on the corner,
three from abuela
when the coals are hot.
Somebody throws meat on the grill -
ssszzzz -
smoke climbs windows,
neighbors bring foil trays -
yellow rice, ribs, roasted corn -
each dish a downbeat.
Kids yell cannonball,
water smacks back,
lifeguard’s whistle cuts through splash.
Old heads tap dominoes on tabletops -
crack, slap, smack -
hands older than the stoops they sit on.
The block fills itself
the way music fills a drum -
the street hums under bare feet.
Tonight,
the moon will smell like charcoal
and sweet ice.
THE STUDIO BOOTH
In a studio booth, the rapper did stand,
With dreams of a hit, but empty pockets at hand.
"No money to record," he sadly exclaimed,
The producer's negative response was tamed4
As he kindly declared the session free,
Taking a financial loss like a kingpin real G.
Free of charge, the beats did play loud & clear,
But the rapper's off-key notes did hurt the ear.8
With confidence high, he started to blare:
"Got 200k in my account! Ain't paying, I swear!"
The producer's frustration began to accrue,
As the rapper continued, his rhymes all askew.¹²
"I was shot in the living room," the artist exclaimed,
"Ten times over, my heart inflamed!
Yet here I stand, without a single sigh,
For in the living room, I can not die!"¹6
Rapper rants & boosted, showing fake finesse.
"Free of charge, but not for this mess,"
Mr. Producer solemnly soliloquizes.
Thought how the rapper came at him to eulogize.²°
In his imagination, he was reaching for his gun,
Placed quietly in his drawer, as the rants go on,
So as to let bygone be bygone by his glock gun.²³
But then, with a terrible awakening, he jacked back,
Like a snatched handbag in a fierce attack.
He came back to reality, thought with a frown,
"Next time this rapper came 'round,
He'd be shown the way out of town!"²8
~~~~~~~~~
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©?20th April 2024.
Waiting anxiously,
Old Red hovers by the door…
Mother Nature calls
The dew on the grass
is soaking my slippered feet…
I drink in the news
Rising from my cup,
white steam fogs up my glasses….
Sun breaks through the dawn
A neighbor jogging,
waves with enthusiasm….
I step on the scales
A song from upstairs,
off key, yet operatic….
I can hear his mood
Wafting up the stairs,
I send some encouragement….
Crisp bacon sizzles
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
In Honor of Francine's Contest: "Morning, Noon, or Night Senryus"
By Carrie Richards 8/21/11
There is happy ado on the old farmstead as Yuletide draws nigh!
Wondrous things to savor as gales blow and snow begins to fly!
The tempest rages for days - they will surely be snowbound,
But a blazing fire warms the Victorian home - love and cheer abound!
Since early in July Pa has had his eye on a special evergreen tree.
It now graces the parlor and they dance about it with glee!
Brightly lit candles adorn branches of the perfectly shape fir.
'Neath lies The Babe - The Magi offering frankincense, gold and myrrh.
The boys have hefted armloads of wood from the oak tree grove,
For Ma and the girls to cook delectable fare on the wood-burning stove.
Titillating aromas waft from room to room in the gracious old house,
From the roasting goose, venison and tender prairie grouse!
Rusty the dog and Simba the cat lie snuggling nigh the fire.
The family gathers 'round the old pump organ for an impromptu choir.
Bellowng off-key, Pa leads them in carols, all ln spirited mirth,
And later by the hearth, Pa reads the story of the Savior's birth.
The ancient grandfather clock tolls ten- the kids are shooed to bed.
Ma and Pa place presents 'neath the tree in old Santa's stead.
With a twinkle in his eyes, Pa steals a kiss 'neath the mistletoe!
The excited kids scarcely snooze listening for Santa's Ho! Ho! Ho!
NOT FOR THE CONTEST
Paddling on a swirling river.
Her husband takes the right.
His wife uses her powerful left hand.
Oh, what a truly serene feeling.
Gently gliding over the rippling water,
As the moon mesmerises the sweet scene,
Stars twinkle in the vast, darkening sunset sky.
They paddle in a sing-song, singing off-key.
One, two, kiss me sweet, kiss me soft.
Moonlight dances on the rippling river.
Their hearts entwined in an elated effect.
The peaceful sounds of flowing water
Mingle with the thrushes. chirping wildlife.
But as water seems to seep into the old canoe,
They paddle to the shore and safety.
And on the dew grass, they hug and kiss,
Their old canoe is truly drowned in the abyss.
O ye all un-tethered men and women
Listening a lot lesser than one-half,
Absorbing half of that— (all bull and bluff!),
Reacting still as many times as twice—
In fraction of what we may call a trice,
And thinking thru their heart, head next to none…
No wonder, a lot in your life goes wrong,
A lot sounds off-key, out of tune a song,
In mad haste still, ye ho hums of heaven
On slippery edge of a precipice,
End up nigh just as they had once begun—
Like two pawns of a gambling game of dice;
Yet, when life sinks, and sours like a bad dream,
Even love whispers sound like frantic scream.
______________________________________________
Men and women seem to fall in love and out of it as fast; come together as fast to fall foul; together in bed and still miles apart; always on the edge, pouts of doubt; what ere were whispers of love turning into loud screams of exasperation.
Sonnets, tongue-in-cheek | 06.02.16 |
Bob Hope,
at birth Leslie Towns, died at one hundred and his life was an interlope;
admired for his comedic timing, facial expressions, and a great one liner,
the "road" movies with his pal Bing- for comedy there are none finer !
Bing Crosby
at birth Harry Lillis, this man so funny and never ever sang off key,
he did so many things before he died at seventy-two, some with Bob his friend
accomplished much and it is said he was the most admired man to his very end
__________________
September 29, 2021
Poetry/Clerihew/Bob and Bing
Copyright Protected, ID 09-1391-891-29
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Clerihew 2
sponsor, Joseph May, Judged 10/29/2021
First Place
Juice had a call that carried to the outer limits of the next galaxy.
We all thought he was a tad bit touched in his pure ecstasy.
I think he seems more orange today, said a feline on the block.
Look at his muscles said another, his boots I’d like to knock.
You hussies are whorish I thought, feeling I was better than them.
The next thing I knew they were clashing down an old Tom named Jim.
Two of the wildest felines in New York, they have had dozens of litters.
Not a bit discriminating, they are an embarrassment to cat critters.
Juice was throwing his call out there, with insane bits of might.
I knew he was calling the mothership. I saw her antennas bright.
Get me off of this planet he told the beam that came down from the sky.
At this moment, he became a pretty damned desirable guy.
I preened and I primped, and I sashayed up to that alley in a bit.
He had stopped sing wailing, but he did not see me one whit.
The aliens had brought him something ten times better than cat nip.
I lingered for days. The smell sent me on a fantastic psychedelic trip.
What is wrong with those two? Juice asked, indicating the sluts.
I was honest and mean, throwing out words in disapproving struts.
We became close friends that day. High as kite, Juice and happy me.
The next time he made the alien cry, I was next to him singing off key.
So much going on in the world today
It’s even hard to believe some days
Some let it cloud their point of view
Not me, all I think about is You
All the noise can make you feel undone
But if you can spread love with just a song
Yeah there’s a lot to wade through
Not for me, all I think about is You
And even if I sing a little off key
Some words are made to set us free
I can’t hold’em back
Even when they sound a little blue
Yeah, I just look up, at the sky
And think about You
We know there’s good all around to see
It just needs a little help from you and me
Some may need help on what they can do
Not me, I think about You
And even if I sing a little off key
Some words are made to set us free
I can’t hold’em back
Even when they sound a little blue
I just look up, at the sky
And think about You
Don’t let’em get you blue
Maybe try to find the song in you
And..
Even if I sing a little off key
Some words are made to set us free
I can’t hold’em back
Even when they sound a little blue
I just look up, at the sky
And think about You
Yeah, look up at the sky
And think about You
Someday I’ll miss the sound
Of my mom singing carols
Off-key in the other room
While I’m trying to fall asleep
(We agree Bing Crosby and Dean Martin
Have astonishingly similar voices)
Mingled with her announcements
I got another one!!
Tallying up her finds
On our impossible cupcakes puzzle
Marooned on half our dining table
Ever since last Valentine’s
(She wants to entice me to help her find more
But I lost my patience long ago
So I just made her a glass of lemonade
With five ice cubes falling from the fridge)
It’s mildly annoying right now
Hearing her argue with cupcakes
Singing along quite out loud
With her unending playlist
Yet it’s also kind of comforting
To pause and think
This will be a memory of her
I can make it sad or happy
And I know I’d regret it if I complained
Because someday I’ll miss the sound
Of my mom singing carols