Long Operator Poems

Long Operator Poems. Below are the most popular long Operator by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Operator poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Like It Was Yesterday

I remember fish sticks for Friday night dinners
And having phones mounted on the wall
And when calling my parents to come pick me up
Hearing the operator ask, “Do you accept this call”

I remember cartoons on Saturday mornings
And TV shows in black and white
I remember staying outside all day to play
Until blanketed by the dark of night

I remember wearing high-tops – the Converse All-Star kind
And having to put on a tie for school
I remember that bottle spinning round and round
And when it stopped – what we would do

I remember my brother’s red Mustang
The first car I would learn to drive
I remember the angry end of my father’s belt
Having been caught in another lie

I remember ice-skating on St. Leonard’s pond
And on summer nights sneaking into the pool
I remember gagging on that cigar puff
Trying to pretend I was really cool

I remember playing baseball with right field out of play
Because we didn’t have enough for two full teams
I remember at camp doing a panty raid
And laughing at the girl's frantic screams

I remember tear drops forming in my eyes
The day my brother went away to college
I remember agonizing over asking her out
But not being equipped with the ask-out knowledge

I remember wearing the cap and gown
As “Pomp and Circumstances” they played
And, even though this happened a lifetime ago
I remember like it was yesterday
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Feels Like a Lifetime Ago

FEELS LIKE A LIFETIME AGO

                     January feels like a lifetime ago,
breathing freely in a hearty party atmosphere.
The wheels on the van go round and round.

A storm loomed and we stood on Psalm 91.
The storm couldn’t reach where God’s hand breathed.

The wheels on the van go round and round
and our family goes up and down in reverie.
Oh how God blessed us with a solid gold watch.

Extended family joined us - my parents’ siblings,
the youngest with their spouses. And the doors
open and shut...open and shut. Shuttled to downtown,

my brother-in-law at the helm. Nobody wore masks,
nobody was sick, nobody needed operations.

Smooth operator, our Lord, who planned this folly,*
this tralala adventure — his peace and safety parlayed.

We blast music from the fifties, sixties, seventies.
Up, up we go from dynastic overflow, generational
happiness in our strobing blue jamboree — guilt-free.

Celebration of two great people — defined by hips,
superglued twins from different mothers. Children
of forever after happiness. Blissfulness before March.

The ants go marching on the calendar screen, right
away we can’t breathe, thankfully not covid. The ants
               weave in and out, revolving hospital doors, 

pass through, separate, and go home — the square dance
for cool kids, not so cool. Wannabee ankle-biters** - cruel.

In the bus we bust a gut**...months later Dad busts a chest.
Dosido here we go...mom and dad take turns, for the best -
     we hope!

8/18/2020

Popular songs: Wheels on the Bus, Ants Go Marching
Bible, Psalm 91 is about protection
Some square dance lingo used in this poem - such as
pass through, separate and go home, dosido

*folly here is meant to mean to mean celebratory fun
**ankle-biters are children
***bust a gut - laughing

The Legendary Hookerman

The day had gone just like any other day
Now the night has come and the rail workers shift has begun
As he strolled the tracks the way he did regularly
He noticed a break in the rail that needed repair
Taking a knee to see what he could do
Sticking his hand through the break it became stuck he could not get it loose Unfortunately there was no scheduled runs on that line till the next day
He yelled and screamed but nobody came
Then shock struck the man as he watched an unexpected train rattling down the tracks
His dim lantern unable to be seen in the darkness He waved his other arm frantically
The operator did not see him now the train has passed along with the night
While his blood poured from the remains of his severed arm unable to stand
The poor mans body found the next day
Many years have come and gone and still at that certain time of the night
You can see his lantern burn in the dark
3/31/17
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Uh, Tower, We Have a Problem Here

They were nearing LaGuardia Airport when the pilot felt a sudden urge.
He told the copilot to grab the yoke saying his bladder he must purge!
He left the cockpit and wended his way to the lavatory in the rear.
Thus, a series of events unfolded, some of which remain quite unclear!

Things 'flowed' along nicely until the pilot attempted to exit the john!
Alas, the door was jammed and he mused, "Is someone putting me on?"
When he tried to escape from his predicament he discovered a catch;
He was alarmed to find that the doggone door had a defective latch!

In the cockpit the copilot was growing very uneasy about their plight.
The tower called to say they were 50 miles out and were cleared to alight!
To add to his consternation, some jerk was pounding on the cockpit door,
Yelling with a foreign accent - a serious situation he dare not ignore!

The tower operator, just to be certain there would be no later regrets,
Wisely called the Air Force and they alerted a squadron of their jets!
The copilot proffered a prayer saying, "Lord, have mercy on us please!
Help, Lord!  Landing this bird alone will test my fortitude and expertise!"

In the meantime good Samaritans helped the pilot to escape his cell!
He scampered to the cockpit to take charge and all turned out well!
This mortifying escapade will be long remembered in airline lore,
About the pilot whose wings were clipped by a faulty lavatory door!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

(Based on an actual incident that occured on a flight from Asheville, NC
to LaGuardia Airport, 16 Nov 2011.   Written with just a tad of embel-
lishment!)
Form: Rhyme

Ominous Nighttime Foray

Crow's claws carrion campy carping
nsync nocturnal teenage mutant ninja turtles
analogous to scuttling
(think) browed beastie boys scarab beetle
brandishing sharp small scabbard swords

delightedly digging daggers deep
into deadened prey
rotting roadkill repulsively reeking
formerly (mere moments ago) once
fancy free and footloose

happy go lucky creatures
perhaps instinctively squirreling away
scarce winter rations
animals oblivious to danger
(i.e. despite matter of fact

courteous attentive driver)
former obviously caught within headlights
(high beams blinding) crosshairs
deerly beloved critters
natural longevity instantaneously doomed

unsightly splayed internal guts
displeasure welling up
against... me long time
licensed vehicular operator
(within keystone state – Pennsylvania)

loathes unintentionally destroying
moosed abominable creature
self anointed ingenious species/
genus *****sapiens
debonair bipedal hominid

eradicates, euthanizes, and extinguishes
innocent kickstarting life within blink
ousted arbitrary dint of virtue
smug simian ruler of realm
sowing seeds of her/his destruction,

not necessarily strictly,
cuz she/he unable to brake,
nor swerve away within timely fashion,
but brainstorm gifted
harnessing collective intelligence concoct

weapons of mass destruction
in lockstep with environmental exploitation
dangle the very survival
various and sundry (extensive) precious
living things unbeknownst to them

will soon become extinct
rendering highly radioactive
oblate spheroid leaving not mushroom
except opportunistic trumpeting

donning guise of: parasitic braconidae wasp,
fruit flies, cockroaches and et alia yon
mummichog, scorpions, and Escherichia coli
for jump starting Earth biota.
Form: Blitz


Money Money Money

Money is a rabid dog
that does not need affection ...
If we throw a bone
farther, farther
it will fetch indefinitely ...
For some money
it's a distant past,
for others it is future ...
money for savings
rides a bicycle ...
money for speculation
at the light speed ...
Money is a ship
manned without pilot
automatic ... needs
operator ...
Money waits and
fosters crises for
snap up capital and
accumulate...
Money has the
maxim: "luxury is right"
for those who have it, naturally ...
Money dresses up as a tycoon
when the business is wasting ...
and banker when the case
is to catch money from others ...
Money is not an instrument,
he is the boss ... the most
well served finer he treats ...
Money is to enrich the rich,
and to impoverish the poor ...
Money when it is called capital.
is a predator of economies ...
society cannot control it
and choking alone ..
He is Robin Hood in reverse:
steals from the poor to
deliver to the rich ...!

Premium Member The Storm Swept Through

I often write about the ocean. I went to see a museum exhibit, yesterday, “Dutch Art in a Global Age.” The paintings of sailboats on the sea caught my attention. Breathtaking and romantic, admired them up closely, then from the center of the room. One artist was Ludolf Bakhuizen and his painting was “Ships in a Gale on the IJ before the City of Amsterdam.”

THE STORM SWEPT THROUGH

the storm swept
through
sails white & gray

  clouds
    competing

ebb & flow
of catawampus rain

the heave-ho
of the hulls
crashing
         on
malevolent waves

the sky falls
squeezes out
thunderous soak

cantankerous whitecaps
        like
moon craters
              rise & fall

cerulean hope
bleeds through
  as
the sun bruises the
    hullabaloo

lightning shows
             off
a couple more
  times
than its lullaby
hushes

and the boats
gently rock

as if the infant
is sound asleep

the sea is smooth
it is a smooth operator
a breathing body
of fickle water
Form: Ekphrasis

Premium Member 'twas the Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the high
Were two furry reindeer who were too gob-droozled to fly
They had been drinking calli-milk that sealed their fate.
They were lying on their backs, in an inebriated state

Stable master and farm operator  brought in two head elves
Should not these two idiots be clearly ashamed of themselves?
The elves they had invited were Tuckle Finger and Jolly Jeremy.
Seeing worse, they concentrated on Santa’s Christmas tree.

Giggling and snorting wolf-bane from the stable in the back
As the drunken idiots laughed away, the elves prepared Santa’s pack.
Nothing could get these two ready any faster than this thought
So they brought in their mothers Big Rose And Dangerous Dot.

The mothers were disgusted and mean with their boys.
Sobering them up quickly in the midst of plenty of noise.
By the time Santa arrived to fly them all night, hard and quick,
They were looking pretty good, but wearing sunglasses, quite thick.

On Dasher! on Dancer! on Rudolph!  Let’s make a turn to the right
The elves said a quick prayer as they flew out of immediate sight.
Just then Dasher and Dancer pranced out of number 2 pen
And they all wondered who those poser reindeer had been?

The reindeer were shocked, there should have been clues.
They radioed Santa and told him the disturbing weird news.
Their own mothers were fooled, Santa said, high in the air.
See you tomorrow, for these posers and I do not have a second to spare.

Written 11-22-2018          Contest: The Night Before Christmas
                                      Sponsor: Joseph May
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Puff Puff Puff

Puff! Puff! Puff! Gonna get real buff
Working out like a fool every day
Wait till the girlies get a load of this bod
My gorgeous physique on display

Puff! Puff! Puff! Gonna get real buff
Girlies will want to slurp from my bowl
Trying to get in on some of the action
“Hang on now, show some control!”

Puff! Puff! Puff! Gonna get real buff
They'll all get a piece sooner or later
Really can understand their excitement
I'll soon be one pumped up operator

Puff! Puff! Puff! Gonna get real buff
Alway knew I had animal magnetism
But I've taken that to a whole new level
Complimenting charm with witticism

Puff! Puff! Puff! Gonna get real buff
Working with the weights, a real jock
Soon be on the cover of “Muscle Power”
Great physique and abs like a rock!


© Jack Ellison 2013
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member The Lady In White

One pitch black night I was driving home and was ready for my bed
My usual route was closed for repairs so I took the minor road instead
I was just approaching the old derelict mill that was over to my right
When out of nowhere a lady appeared dressed from head to toe in white.

I tried to swerve but hit her head on and it gave me one helluva fright
Thought what was she doing alone out here in the middle of the night
I quickly jumped out of my car and dialed, nine one one on my phone
And thinking that I might have killed someone, chilled me to the bone.

But there was no sign of her and I feared she was underneath
I caught sight of my face in the cars mirror ; I'd gone white as a sheet
I quickly got down on the ground and used my phones torchlight
And I started praying to God up high that the poor lady was alright.

But she wasn't underneath the car and thought was I going insane
The wind was howling loudly now and brought with it heavy rain
I was all on edge, then got in my car and had the life scared out of me
When a loud voice said " operator here, what's your emergency"?


Something Spooky 8 to 16 lines Poetry Contest

Sponsored by Tania Kitchin

Written 5th October 2021.
Form: Rhyme

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