Long Old maid Poems
Long Old maid Poems. Below are the most popular long Old maid by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Old maid poems by poem length and keyword.
Every artist knows
Their canvas is not complete
Without a pop of passionate red.
Every stop sign knows
They will not be honored
If they are not the right color
The flag would be blah if it was only blue and white
If you look at the world flags, most have courageous red.
The Irish have a form of it in their orange.
Glossy blue-red lipstick gives us a feeling of the fifties
When women hid their blatant sexuality
Saving it in the bedroom, when they turned into hungry tigresses,
Tearing their men apart with pure sensuality
Restaurants use joyful red lavishly, understanding she encourages eating.
Unsuspecting victims devour food at rapid pace, taking home seconds.
Children see red and think of the circus, popcorn, or a fire engine.
Excitement, pizazz, a happy ending to a blah day.
Red was once the color of an angry old-maid teacher’s pen.
My theory is that she was no tigress
because she had no man in her bedroom.
Red is for the passion, sensuality, and warmth.
Red is for sexuality and pizazz.
She lived alone in her sister's house
quiet is a poor church mouse
She cooked and clean for her keep
up the attic room she did retreat
She dressed plain with colors drab
a smiling face she never had
She seldom ever went out
her conscious pure without doubt
Her sister's family could not be blamed
changing her she would not entertain
Her nieces tease her is a living ghost
for breakfast she fed them burnt toast
Her cat stayed with her in her room
rumors were at night she flew the broom
Her demeanor was of a Dark Ages nun
her sister never remembered her being fun
She died one night in her sleep
no one notice for a week
Her funeral was very small
ashes in a gray urn dull
Letters she wrote to herself
discover while cleaning a bottom shelf
Were words poetic of an unknown soul
rapture of life express in poem's prose
We all avoided Miss Kay’s house; she was an old maid.
No one wanted to get moldy cookies or pink lemonade.
We ran past her stoop, not wanting to ring the bell as it stood.
We knew whatever she would give out would be no good.
At the end of the night our weird cousin named Lee.
Who could not catch up said “Whoop Dee Dee Dee!”
He had a five-dollar bill and guess which house he stopped at?
The next year we all trooped up to Miss Kay’s door so fat.
She was tickled to death we had stopped and generous too.
She took down a list of goodies we like and bought them in 2002.
For the next twenty years we all ran up there to trick-or-treat.
And became her friends, and she said, “Aren’t you all sweet!”
My husband... has never minded
eating a vegetable he doesn't like
just so they will eat theirs...
Or eating half smashed, soggy potato chips
out of clammy little hands,
when they've decided they would like to share...
He's fine... letting them play hairdresser...
sitting patiently, while they curl his hair,
He will play Old Maid, pretending to have a sour face...
all the while letting them win
He doesn't mind drinking muddy looking tea
from a tiny little cup, that is too small for his fingers
Or sitting out in the blazing sun
on a hot summer afternoon
watching them stay cool, as they frolic in the sprinklers
He shows excitement
over a Popsicle stick
glued onto cardboard,
and tied with a bow....
exclaiming it to be his favorite birthday gift...
He doesn't mind taking them up and down the aisles of Wal Mart
for an hour, while they decide how to spend their dollar
He would rather spend his day playing hopscotch
than a round of golf
He's their Grandpa.........
Just one more reason why I love him
________________________________________________________
"A Good Man" Contest
Sponsor: Lewis Rayne
We are from a small town my husband and I
We met when I was four and he was five
At his Daddy’s store at the bottom or our hill.
He showed my twin and me his bunkbeds.
We thought they were cool.
When I was in first grade he chased me on the playground.
I had been holding my underpants up all day under my dress
Because the elastic had snapped.
When he grabbed me my panties fell off.
Miss Kneeland, our old maid teacher and principal brought us in.
She asked what happened.
He told her “when I grow up I am going to marry her.”
I hated him.
Ran into him again when we were ten.
My twin and I were trying to get into a store first
To buy the stereo for ten dollars. We were up at five a.m.
Waiting at the doors.
His parents dropped him off with a lawn chair and a radio at seven.
He told the manager of the store that we had been here since five.
But he knew where the stereo was and he had already sold it.
The manager said nothing, but let my twin in and let her buy it.
We could hear him screaming about the unfairness of it as we left.
He was arrogant and rude, and I despised him now more than ever.
When we were sixteen he came to the house and asked
“Would one of you …um…twins go out with me?”
My identical twin went running off screaming.
I saw how red his face was and said I would.
We became best friends after that
Which eventually led to fifty years together.
A Grumpy Cat Halloween
Ah, how to dress her for this day?
We think she's getting senile in
a very unique way!
She can't be Wonder Woman anymore!
Why she's too old to be Goldilocks!
She looks more like that scary wolf at the door.
With a Mickey Mouse hat!
Nah! She looks like an old rat.
And she won't dress like an old maid.
Hence, a decision was made.
Let's dress her who she's like most.
Of course, like Grumpy Cat!
Lovable, frowning and always
saying, "NO!
Happy Halloween to all poets!
Panagiota,
Poet of "NO"...LOL
*Grumpy Cat be found online..* for those who
are unfamiliar with him.
I REMEMBER SMOKEY
Once when I was just a kid,
My sister eight years older,
My sister's boyfriend came to call,
As we were playing soldier.
Stationed in the jungle we,
Cut off from our troop.
Surrounded by the enemy,
We must escape, regroup.
To do this we must make a stand,
Take out that lone guard.
A local girl distracted him,
So we could hit him, hard.
My sister led him to the porch,
To kiss her friend good night,
Not suspecting they were watched,
Or what we planned that night.
They stood before the porch steps,
In young love's sweet embrace,
I'm sure the neighbors heard his scream,
You should have seen her face.
We snuck up very slowly,
They never heard a sound,
They thought that they were all alone,
With no one else around.
The timing perfect as we leaped,
I yelled to him,"ATTACK!"
And Smokey did as he was told,
He ran straight up his back.
The young boy screamed, jumped off the porch,
And made tracks for his car.
My sister cried to Mama,
"He'll prob'ly have a scar!"
The young boy swore that he was bit,
Felt teeth in his behind.
I grinned and said,"But not the cat,
The teeth he felt were mine."
Mama laughed so hard at that,
That we did not get punished.
My sister went into her room,
Her reputation tarnished.
She felt no boy would date her now,
She had a rabid sister,
Who hung out with a feral cat,
No one could resist her.
So cute and sweet, she had it all,
You'd think she had it made;
But with me no one would call,
She'd die as an old maid.
Judy Ball
A musical throng of 400,000 strong invaded a dairy farm in New York in 1969,
which set fire to the 70’s; but there was no chance of me being there;
I was a good girl, 17 years young; sheltered, not knowing about the real world.
Working in a grocery store 28 hours a week, while
attending my senior year of high school, in my home town of Chariton, Iowa.
There were gang-inspired movies of sheer horror and terror out about this time.
I did not see any except Billy Jack, and the Glory Stompers.
Both traumatized me so hard, I am still terrified of them.
I was making macramé planters, Modge Podge boxes, and latch hook rugs if I could
Get the money; the boxes were expensive.
Some people were pretend hippies, wearing long hair. I grew my hair long
For my yearbook photo, but then was sad because it had looked lots better short.
By 1971, I was married, after being forced to view myself as an old maid
By my peers who had all wed a month out of high school.
I was wearing a large, black, bushy afro, and thought of myself as liberated.
Not even close, honey, the Equal Rights Amendment did not even pass.
By ’74 I had two babies; I remember getting a flat tummy after
childbirth and being insanely unhappy that the new style was maternity-looking tops.
Who made THAT decision?
I was still wearing the hip-hugging bell bottom pants now, but without the wide belt.
Mary Tyler Moore was on TV, shocking everyone with disbelief that a single woman could
Make it on her own, without man, or marriage.
“My Three Sons” and “The Brady Bunch” had been startling pushed out of the way by “All in the Family.”
I had never known the word ‘bigot before’, I’m not sure I ever wanted to.
By ’79 I had my third baby, was living in a large house in Des Moines, Iowa, and was a Girl Scout Troop Leader.
Toys of Yesteryear
Some of you have seen these.
Simple, beautiful toys.
Played on the living room carpet.
Sometimes on our knees.
Some right on an oil clothed
kitchen table.
No hang ups about the sexuality
of girls and boys.
In those days, we were all
considered equal and able.
This is prior to Priscilla PC and
Sammy SMART,
When parents did not call the
SWAT team when you dared
play with a dart!
There where wooden Chinese
checkers, oh,how UN-PC!
Try Russian nestling dolls.
Surely, designed by Oligarchs,
To overthrow the next
presidency!
How about a pair of Scottie dog
magnets, one black, one white?
Reverend Al and Jesse would
declare them a national blight!
Maybe a pair of balsa wood gliders?
Oh, no! Not those.
They'd be instructing us to be war
mongers.
Old Maid Card game, well how
about that?
No way, women's' liberation will
have none of that.
Funny, we never went around
hurting or shooting each other.
We actually read books and
respected each other as sisters
and brothers.
You don't need me to tell you
the vicious video games kids
play today.
The saddest part is, if it's
computerized, it's automatically
O.K.
The children don't realize they
are brainwashed into an AI
nation.
We adults need to see their
games have some human coordination.
The children see us stuck to devices
day and night.
Our pasty white faces, must
give them a fright.
Hardly a "Silent Night!"
Nobody in the house talking!
Each glued to a screen.
To many, this is just awesome.
For me, this loss in humanity,
is beyond anything, I have ever
seen!
November 27, 2019
~~Merry Christmas~~
** no category for toys. This is about toys.
My mother mentioned casually that I was dyslexic.
This was something I had forgotten.
I knew I had to wear a glove for a year of first grade
To force me to not use my left dominant hand.
But I had forgotten the hours I spent after school with Miss Kneeland.
Miss Kneeland was an old maid school teacher
Who had already taught my father and his brother Jerry.
They were also dyslexic, so she knew what she was dealing with.
I had spent hours after school with her in first grade
As she taught me to see my reading words the way others saw them.
She used a mirror, and until I saw them with the mirror,
they were squiggles that made little sense.
It was a struggle I had long forgotten,
I have never fully recovered from wearing a one compartment mitten
On my left hand, so I could not use my left hand for a year.
This was also Miss Kneeland’s idea, so I could be right handed.