Long Open it up Poems
Long Open it up Poems. Below are the most popular long Open it up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Open it up poems by poem length and keyword.
In Caren’s dream house there will be no rules.
No symmetry, no boring colors, no angry fools.
Everything will be cutesy, petootsie, batootsie and a mess.
There will be no reasons to overdress or bring on stress.
There will be no knocking or coughing at the door.
Just open it up and put your bare feet on my floor.
Bring me sugar or salt if you have some to spare.
Don’t be fearful if you forgot your underwear.
All of my bras are stacked behind a chair.
Where they are going to sit, go ahead and stare.
I don’t have a worry, I have no care.
In Caren’s dream house, we do what we dare.
As long as we are having fun with cartoons and paint.
You can be a sinner, a singer, a dancer, or a wanna-be-saint
But come ready to play and have fun and throw whipping cream.
This is my vision, my insight, my desire and my dream.
A rainbow stallion
hailed, as if a cab.
I laid a hundred bucks
under his leather saddle.
I stepped into the stirrups,
then whipped onto
his primeval back.
I’d been expecting him.
An adventure I’d been told…
I knew nothing of how to ride
and knew only to pay his price.
He spoke! Yes, he spoke!
“Kick my sides, not too light,
not too hard.”
Surprised, I followed his instructions.
Away we flew. To where, only he knew.
The stubborn mule wouldn’t tell me.
We flew fast, we rode hard
until we reached the fairies and unicorns.
The fairies had little swords
embellished with ancient words.
The unicorns were fighting with their horns,
the sound of thunder, strikes of lightning.
“So, why are we here?”
The stallion says, pointing sternly at me,
“You need to stop this war!”
“What?” I say, “Why me?
“Isn’t it obvious?” the stallion frowns,
“You wouldn’t eat your daughter’s pixie dust cake,
you wouldn’t play hide’n seek unicorn and flatly
said you didn’t believe in fairytales.”
“Do you believe in rainbow stallions? the horse mocked.
“Okay…okay, but
how do I stop this war?”
“Alright, we’re getting somewhere,” the stallion snorted.
“Go to the old owl’s tree. Open it up. There’s a clock.
You must turn it back to yesterday.”
“Where is it?”
“Must I do everything for you? You have until midnight to figure it out.”
“What happens if I can’t return to yesterday?”
“An unhappily ever after.
Now get going! Today is burning daylight!”
I awake from my dream, hoping this is yesterday…
My daughter spins into the room,
“Daddy, I rode on a horsie’s back.
He was so pretty. He told me you would help me
find pixie dust and unicorns. Will ya…will ya, Daddy?”
“Hold on, sweetheart…”
I run outside in bare feet.
I hear an owl. I see his tree.
Before I wouldn’t have believed nor seen
the clock. I wind it back.
Let the party begin. I’ve taken stock.
Ten years later she reminds me
of the sweetest day,
time spent wisely. The owl daily says,
“Who…who’s the guy!” with a wink,
dream and a little sleep.
8/24/2022
I saw you tomorrow why yesterday
had settled into my sultry self giving
nothing claiming less owning the night
the beautiful gifts spoken under a whisper
I catered to now the newness of it all
unused unmet unborrowed lessons
tore into my ravishing smile i suppose
there was something about tomorrow
that reminded me of a softer time while
crowded minds blended with awful
conversations hint of kindness a soft
blush a bruised ego the meaning of it
all sent a thrilling rush of madness wildly
tamed employed solely by my own
manifestation of meeting you here again
a sullen memory unlived within our time
why we bought laughter and chanted
all night meeting you tomorrow
remembering you yesterday why I simply
bathe in the tangible infallible betrayal
of time lost in a bottle of dreams
measured so beneath the heat of the
Sun resting on my brown back i followed
the sky of gleaming stars racing to catch
tomorrow today to open it up like a nicely
wrap Christmas present placed so neatly
under the tree with a note that read darling
I got you just what you asked for promise
not to open it until tomorrow suddenly
realizing night crawled under day stirring
so much strife opening tomorrow tonight
everything I asked for unwrapped right
here right now in an instant tomorrow
became yesterday just as you promised
The magic lies upon the the page, just pick me up you will be amazed
Knights upon white steeds, fighting dragons and saving damsels
The written word is often said to be the saviour of the human race
hero's made as dragons slayed, and wizards spells on young damsels laid
Pick me up and turn the page and help me save the heroine
Robin hood and maid Marion fighting greed, and doing good
Pick a book and open it up and let your imagination run a muck
Robbing the rich is robins game .and saving fair maid Marion .
Without a book you would be stuck to fire your imagination
In far off lands our hero's stand up against the federation
It's the love of books that inspire the next writing generation
So let get back and save Luke and Leah from annililation
You might get your wish
from a stick of ice.
that you might lick and lick
till the flavors nice.
Till you're nearly all done
and two sticks appear,
that you might think an end
is no time to cheer.
But you're wrong, I will say.
You forgot to think
that was once tossed out
was the wrapper in ink.
And the back you see
is an ad for you.
Placed by Popsicle Pete
as the thing to do.
So you fill out the wrapper
and send it in.
sent with one dollar fifty;
if you're not to thin.
Then you wait for five months
and you wait for six days.
then will Popsicle Pete
soon return the praise.
when a very large package
that's from Popsicle Pete
will be sent to you
as a great big treat.
Now to open it up
Just to see what is in it.
You'll be very surprised
should you justly admit it.
It's a nuclear sub
about six foot eight.
made of folded up cardboard
in the lightest of weight.
Now you'll travel the seas
for the rest of days
steering here and there
as you lower and raise.
Thanks to Popsicle Pete
and the wrapper of choice.
There's a thousand new kids
who now have a voice.
She went to the mall and pulled out the card
She wanted it all for she had worked so hard
Going to this store and that store over there
And she wanted even more like she didn't have a care
Up to the next floor as the packages soon would build
It was a lot for sure but this is what she had willed
A few more last minute things and one really special gift
Oh the joy shopping brings and how it gives you such a lift
With so much in hand she could hardly carry anymore
So I couldn't understand as she hit that last store
Lugging all this stuff out and finally finding her car
She soon pulled out but didn't end up going very far
For just over the hill and in a lot just off to the right
A run down house on a hill such a barren looking sight
Setting the gifts at the door she knocked and drove away
For what this family had in store is really everyone’s story today
But it’s not on the door step or alongside a tree
It’s in the Manger.
A priceless Gift that many will never open.
Open it up!
Imagination is Divinity's show
we see what is in store and stock, old or new
challenging problems from various viewpoints
non-linear timeless, moves directionless
concretises void contents self perceives pure
evidence of things unseen in moving realms
fountain spring of all new wisdoms from unknown
dust it off, open it up, ageless it is
a no cost preview of coming attractions
on expansive landscapes we project wishes
monotony becomes lucid excitement
here we wipe slates clean of misery, boredom
conceive what will be perfected colourful
not knowledge, therefore has elemental wings
lubricates creative manifestation
impacts possibilities, gives rise to will
intent, configuration, action results
holding evidence of vibrational prisms
peace tool for misqualified energies lost
imagination infinite crucial cued
foundation tool for human creation
unequalled gift given to humanity.
PLACED 3RD: PREMIER CONTEST
Sponsor : Brian Strand
All at once I absquatulated,
in hindsight now I know why.
The craziness simply escalated,
I no longer held the desire to try.
The pellucid message in silence
is a fierce strong-arm motivator.
Sucked into an act of defiance,
I will not indulge an instigator.
Speaking with a cogent message
I have expunged every syllable.
With no words I have set the stage
for a civil dialog to be permissible.
Now it’s your turn to open it up,
apply for a little bit of restitution.
You must swallow your pride cup
if you want to apply for absolution.
Time to become a showstopper,
no need to be unruly or obscene.
I say ‘Be wise my little grasshopper,
there is more than one jelly bean.’
He was placed in position
Clothed in righteousness
Who told you, you were naked
His Father took one rib away from him
Created a vessel open it up, placed created a help mate
A Wo man, taken from the vessel
Yet they stand two in one, three cord strong
A man, woman and Father God
Stood together, as well as apart
When together, share they a heart
Souls placed in position
To be Kings and Queens of nations
Who are we to judge, where’s the love
I, we are clothed in our spirit, soul, and minds
Unblemished
Who told you? You were naked
3/28/2025
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
I think of my memory as this vast and endless library within my mind.
My library, just like yours, is unique unto itself…
where once an experience becomes a memory…
It finds its place upon the shelf.
This library collects all my memories…every dream, every comedy…every tragedy…
sometimes in prose…sometimes in rhyme…
from the moment my eyes first open…
until they close for the very last time.
The beauty of this library is how…out of the blue…
something can trigger a memory
A song…and aroma…a photo…an old friend we happen to greet….
and those memories fly right off the shelf…
and land directly at my feet.
Other times I’ll search the shelves until I find a memory that makes me smile
I’ll dust it off…open it up…and visit with it for a while.
I suppose one of the keys to happiness…
in all the years of our life span…
Is to fill the shelves of our library with as many memories as we can.
So…when we’re older…as through these stacks of memories we climb….
we’ll never run out of memories…before we run out of time.