Long Oreo Poems
Long Oreo Poems. Below are the most popular long Oreo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Oreo poems by poem length and keyword.
All men are created equal
All men are women in the womb
With babies born inside their minds
Delivered in flight by penguin equity
All women are men with inverted appendages
Who have pronouns instead of names
Amazon drops off packages at their doorsteps
On purpose, special deliveries
At the end of the flat Earth streets
No matter what gender you are
You are a pregnant superstar
Companies come in the morning to give birth
Not to Jesus but to rainbow coalitions
On the condition that you step outside yourself
Follow them to a world of fluffy stuff
Full of marshmallows, unicorns and Oreo cookies
Oreo says, “Transgenders exist”
A cookie fixation, that’s the fix
Steeped in power, keeping the clouds at bay
Vanilla is a way to stay happy happy joy joy
Everyone comes in one size, supersize
One must keep an open mind to be woke
One must wake up first to be Woke
A condition that has no cure at first
Until someone gives birth on the sly
Not knowing who or why
i dwell within the confines of a soft whisper in the snow
daily, i pray for the return of an innocence long departed
free from people's thoughts and their harsh judgements, i think freely
inside the frigid facility, i can let go of the weight that holds me down
i can allow the gentle winds of life soothe the battle weary capability of my sanity
i can sit at the edge of life's carefully laid out challenges
i can hear the thematic images of the birds' melodies
i can hear the crunches of the leaves as deer pass by
i can drink from the water dripping from the icicles of my element
i can hide from it all, and to many that is not alright
yet and still, what do they know about what is really good for me
no matter the season, i dwell within the confines of a soft whisper in the snow
a battered snowman is my only friend and confidante
we eat oreo ice cream together and talk about the old days in the public
nightly, we pray for the return of a familial familiarity long departed
free from people's cheap stupidity and all the expensive results, we vacate often
Written for Jan Allison, who then decided I should share it for poop verse afficionados.
True story, by the way.....
There are some jobs where heeding worker's safety is required
and during operations must be suitably attired
environmental hazards mean that everyone conforms
and wearing full length protection has now become the norm.
In this case, paper snowman suit with hood and full length zip
a sturdy piece of clothing and is not inclined to rip.
Whilst clearing out some premises a worker got caught short
and knew he'd never make it to the toilet, so he thought
and made a break for the nearest hedge with a newspaper he'd bought.
Just in time he squatted down, the time lag all too brief
as out in one loud massive jet his bottom got relief.
The job now done he zipped back up and dressed just where he stood
not realising, squatting, that he'd done it in his hood.
It soon became apparent, as his headwear pulled in place
as fly attracting runny doo doo dribbled down his face
His workmates doubled up in laughter, just making it worse
as he stormed off in anger like an Oreo in reverse.
So since time immemorial, the moral's been the same
that when you go, then please do so, but
just you watch your aim.
For Jan, with love 'n hugs and trembly bits, Viv x
In Memory of Oreo, the Glasses Thief
My guinea pig named Oreo, an affectionate little soul with a talent to behold..
With fur as soft as moonlight’s gleam,
And eyes so bright, like stars in a dream.
My Oreo, you brought such delight,
With mischief in your heart, mischief in your sight.
A master of curiosity, you wandered with grace,
Exploring the world at your own little pace.
When I’d ask you kindly, Take my glasses, you’d take them away,
With gentle nibbles, you’d remove them with care,
As I marveled at the magic we shared,
My Oreo, with your mischievous ways,
You taught me to find joy, even in mundane days.
You reminded me to cherish life’s little charms,
And embrace the bliss found in unexpected arms.
Now, as I stand here, in this bittersweet rhyme,
Remembering the laughter you brought in your prime,
I bid you farewell, my Oreo
May your spirit live on, in a world without end.
Farewell, Oreo, the glasses thief so sly,
Thank you for the love that will never die.
A reminder of the joy in life’s whimsical stride.
the darkness and the quiet
both wear white cowboy hats when merged
it takes me back to two gallons of oreo ice cream and my early 30s
things were still cheap then
the music was still good
i lived for that streetlight and a phone call from her
convenience used to me my mistress
she pulled me in with her many a unpredictable gifts
the darkness and the quiet
together they brought about peace and never started a riot
it takes me back to galley kitchen reflections and my favorite microwave oven
things were still affordable then
the music was still enjoyable
i lived for the smile on the face of a full moon and a phone call from her
now here i am....in a pandora box time machine....
looking forward to the residence inn in the center of the time warp
running back home
wanting to make it right
knowing it is too late
i jump in the cold river
the overactive water does not clear my head
you saying 'yes' is the only thing that will
i was a midnight mover one too many times
now the house i broke down needs work
no contractor will accept the job
i guess i will turn around
will go back home and sulk in the black blood of my own shame
too much oreo ice cream, honey butter biscuits and hint of honey almond milk have caused my flatulence to depress the home of my heart
i lock myself in the basement of my collection of regrets where i remain until my time of death comes
I wake up and I think what am I doing here?
Why here? Why the bitter cold Midwest in the winter?
Why not California or Florida, Georgia or Texas?
Why this icy, cold, air-inducing asthma tundra?
It is so cold out there. Only 18 degrees today, sometimes less,
Zero degrees sometimes, minus six degrees other times.
Why I am I here? I toy with the idea of calling in sick.
I am an older worker, if I start doing this will they replace me with two youngers?
I could make up an excuse and call in late; but then, I would probably forget the excuse that I used. Remember last time? It must be ugly-cold out there. My feet are freezing!
Okay, Brain tells us, calm down. Be calm. Take deep breaths. Concentrate on your clothes.
What about warm socks? You could wear two pairs of pants;
you can double those socks.
Your winter boots are pretty warm.
I run to my bedroom and pull on anything and everything,
Wishing I could find two fluffy socks that match, but I cannot.
Black with white giant dots and neon-red and green that blink might be obviously too different even for me.
I sit down for a second, take a drink of my coffee, look down at my shirt.
It looks like someone stabbed me to death and I had black blood.
The Oreo cookie that I dunked in the coffee is everywhere on my shirt.
And it was just washed. I look like a train wreck! I change the shirt, and sit to reflect.
I am so hot! So very hot. I cannot believe how hot I am.
Listen, Brain says, start taking off some clothes.
Maybe six shirts were too many. I take off two of them.
My husband comes around the corner and asks “Why are you still here?”
A primal scream turns into a roar, and I chase him back into his office. Ready to go now. All well.
I send him an email asking him to buy me some fluffy socks that match.
The Private caressed his balls out of action during the short ceasefire
the Army had scanned him for testosterone because they needed a killer
He bit into a Milky Way as he cradled his crotch to get ready for the fight
his Universe had become conquest for a medal or a bow to his member
he was an intelligent man and knew that Thanatos and Eros were close
he was bored with war as his days were filled with one kill after another
a bit of rape pillage and outright murder strewn in for diversity training
nothing out of the ordinary just protecting family dogma and fatherland
But wait today he had been given a Galaxy chocolate bar in his rat pack
mouth-wateringly smooth it ran down his sticky fingers in the battle heat
Divine comedy called as he slipped from the trigger to miss the target
oiling his gun had been his forte but sweets and retribution don’t mix
When he reached for the hand-grenade on his ammunition belt he stalled
because he held a flaccid apple and dreamt of virgins and paradise’s snake
gripped his resolve and temptation firmly and waved a whitewashed flag
But he had enlisted for glory so when duty called again he felt like a Smartie
and an Oreo biscuit creamy on the inside sheltered and crisp on the outside
He had once read Nabokov but this moment was reserved for Nabisco and
Lolita approached in hot pants on the horizon in between ruins and dust
Where there’s smoke there is light he concluded and happiness is a warm gun
He had to get collateral damage out of his mind and face mostly friendly fire
so he delayed retrograde action for there is a time for every pulsating feast
and therefore he loaded his kind weapon and aimed straight at bull’s eye lids
dreamt of his wife and his mistress he had to guard with all his body and soul
Just then he exploded in a mine field and became a eunuch in Dad’s Army
14th September 2020
------------The Sonic Signature--------------------------
Baritones Sweet Tooth Get's him in trouble
with his Mezzo Soprano Lady Friend
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He flirts with the Alto not knowing she is freind to the Soprano
who is angry due to his cheating.
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24 strawberries
melted white chocolate
melted dark chocolate
pistachios crumbs
golden oreo crumbs
whipped cream fused with
coconut rum
don't omit the mascarpone
roll sugar cookie dough into 7 inch long by
2 inch wide oval end shaped cookies
bake until golden and cool.
wash and clean
dress strawberries
dip in either chocolate the tops
coat with either nut or cookie crumbs
skewer 6 alternating between white and dark chocolate
set atop oval shaped cookie
decorate with whipped cream
sprinkle coca attop
serve with coffoe
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O Oreo, thief of rustling packets,
how do you always find the treats?
You pull open drawers in the dead of night
like a burglar wrapped in black and white fur.
You leave ripped catnip bags across the floor
as if destruction is a kind of art.
The dog growls when you pass,
but you only flick your tail and carry on.
Every cat in the street knows you somehow.
You meet them beneath garden fences,
touch noses like you’ve shared lives before.
And maybe that is why I love you so fiercely.
Because before you, there were others.
Four names I still carry quietly.
Three boys lost to the road,
one girl stolen by poison.
You are chaos, Oreo,
all sharp claws and crooked habits,
yet you curl against me at night
like something determined to heal what it never broke.