Long Out to lunch Poems
Long Out to lunch Poems. Below are the most popular long Out to lunch by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Out to lunch poems by poem length and keyword.
We went shopping
The misses and me
And afterwards we went
To our favourite café for a tea
The misses decided
She wanted to visit her brother Jim
She said “Since we in town,
“I have somefink to give to him”
So off we go to the bank
That’s where he works
His a no body
Just one of many clerks
We approach the counter
Me misses says “I wanna see Jim”
“Tell him it’s his sister”
“And I have somefink for ‘im”
“By the way, she says
“He should have a parcel for me”
The manager behind the counter said
“Jim is out to lunch you see”
“Well said me misses give him this
She pulled out a potato peeler
The manager’s eyes open
He seemed a bit of a Sheila
He quickly turned around
And gave me misses a parcel
But wouldn’t take the potato peeler
The stupid **** hole
Off we went back home
I slumped in the chair and watched some TV
Later the misses brought the parcel
And sat next to me
She open the bag
And all of a sudden a loud exploding sound
I thought me misses was killed
From the wet splatters all around
I looked at her
What a sight
Her face and arms were evenly coated orange
Which, boy, gave me an even bigger fright
I looked down in the bag
It was filled with money
Covered in a bright orange dye
My throat dried, this was not funny
Moments later a knock on the door
Me misses answers and voices say we arresting you for theft
You have orange dye on you
So we need to search the house, step to the left
I peep out, there,
A bloody police van
Me misses says you will do no such thing
This is fake tan
She reaches in her bag
Out come a bottle of orange fake tan
The police apologies
And off they go in their van
The CCTV tapes they probe
Blank
And arrest the manager
For an inside job
For a whole month
I stayed at home washing me orange spots
I managed to fade them
And got a sick note for chicken pox.
When the good things happen take a photo in your mind
So you can reach in and get it when others ain’t so kind.
When someone special comes along, laugh and play with them for fun.
Keep these memories in your heart, when your tears begin to run.
When there is hope and joy, box it up and take it out to lunch.
Concentrate on the best parts of your day, collect them in a bunch.
So when the bad times come and shake you by your weary feet,
You will not be discouraged, depressed, sad, sorrowful or beat.
This advice is given to you by one who knows you pretty well.
I do not want the bad times to be something upon which you dwell.
I want you to focus on happiness and joy, and throw away your woe.
Because frankly, my dear, I revere and love you totally, you know.
Inundated Not Liberated
AT 15 Is your mind closed for the season-
Or are you just "OUT TO LUNCH"
IF YOU BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU'VE
HEARD you HAVE NOTHING ELSE TO LEARN..
Then a child you shall remain.
AT 30 Is your mind closed for the season-
Or are you just " taking a vacation from reality"?
IF YOU BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU'VE
HEARD you HAVE NOTHING ELSE TO LEARN..
What's the point in your living on.
At 45 Is your mind closed for the season-
Or are you just "BRAIN DEAD"
If you believe everything you've been
contrived to know, then you
HAVE NOTHING ELSE TO LEARN-
what are you living for?
.
If you understanding nothing at 60
concluding no solutions
And still wait for another nation
to save you,
While they rob
and replace you
waste you
debase you.
We are doomed..
There is "No fool like an old fool"
Truer words were never said-
Better off to die young.
Than go to your grave,
as a closed minded slave.
He waited
Under fluorescent lighting
The kind that highlighted
His salt and pepper hair
It was almost 5:30
Quitting time
But he didn’t have to worry about that anymore
Today was his last day
The people in the office took him out to lunch
Had a round of drinks
Opened a few cards
Hugged one of the secretaries
Felt pretty good about himself
But what next?
Adjusting his glasses he looked straight ahead
The tools on his workbench
Grimy
Cold metal
After twenty years still usable and dependable
Pliers, screwdrivers
Lined up in front just the way he organized them
Some lost
Some borrowed but eventually all returned
He wondered if he would miss holding the hefty hammer
The one with the smooth maple handle?
There was nothing more to do
Would he bring his tools home?
Or come back for them later?
Rubbing his hands
To keep his fingers moving
He lingered at his bench
Until it was time to leave
A day’s pay for a day’s work
That what his father told him
Back when.
Put off the final decision
To retire as long as he could
When he signed the papers
It felt like somebody lifted him up
And put him in another life
Careful with money
Saved all these years
With Social Security
He and his wife hoped it would be enough
To see them through.
Enough thinking
It was time to leave
Waving to a few co-workers
He walked out
The shop door closing behind him
Brick building
Casting its large shadow behind him
Outside it was the usual scene
Busy streets
Crowded coffee shop
Sounds of buses and traffic
In a hurry to get somewhere.
This time it was different
A cold chill of exhilaration
Gripped him in a vise of uncertainty
He couldn’t believe he
Was walking away
From decades of
What was once familiar
And part of him.
Mind and heart miles apart
Heart wishes to be close to you
Mind doesn't know what to do
Pain is still fresh in my mind
Heart wishes to just push rewind
Sometimes tough having a brain
Still broken hearts cause such pain
I've known you since you were a child
You once lived loose and wild
Now you call after all these years
My mind said there would be no more tears
My heart has always wanted you near
So my heart casts a string
My mind listens as it's drawn in
Mind and heart together again
Cautiously joined prepared for pain
My mind tells my heart it must be insane
It still holds the remnant of an uncles pain
Out to lunch conversation
My heart feels wonderful elation
My brain filled with reservations
I listen to the words you speak
My mind searches as you seek
You want connections can it be true
My thoughts are many my words are few
So the first steps to an awkward dance
Mind and heart willing to take a chance
I had a nephew (through previous marriage) call me out of the blue.
I had been close to him once, in many ways played a father role
in his life. Circumstances caused me to have to insulate myself
From him to protect my spirit. This is a hopeful start.
Form:
The door is closed
The shutter down
No voices heard
Now out of town
Portcullis, locks
A barricade
Small chance to rescue
What was made
The landing pad
A storm does seize
To wildest rush
From gentle breeze
Out to lunch
Back in five
Lost moments where
A heart did thrive
I missed a memo
No call to chat
Thumbs-up emoji
That is that?
A one-way street
Without reverse
A mystery
Perhaps a curse
What's done is done
Some may say
But heroes find
A better way
To rescue friendship
To seek the truth
It's old school faithful
Yes, foresooth
Place on the armour
Grab sword..Away!
We live to love
Another day
One or two dead sheep lay by the road.
We saw a hairpin bend signed 'Beware of
Blind People Crossing' as we drove from Dublin,
West to Connemara's wild Atlantic shores
To black rock crags patched white between with
Coral sand, backed by bog the other side of the
Deserted coastal R341 and a cottage
Between Ballyconeely and the Mannin Bay Blueway.
Farmers parked their Morris Minors
Where the river flowed half a metre deep
Across the road though we had no choice but
To go through with water lapping to the doors
As our engine choked and stuttered.
There was not a thing on bare shop shelves
Save what the tide and storms brought in,
Or so it seemed. Just a single skate wing
In a solitary wooden box stood centre
On a warehouse floor, as though awaiting
Bomb disposal, far from the great shutter door
Opened for us when we called for something
For our supper. The weather was the worst in living Memory. "'Tis wild, 'tis wild," the shepherd said,
Nothing more, driving him from his hitch-hike
To the nearest village pub
Where, with two halves of Guinness down for us,
He retired to a corner table to drink alone across
The room in an empty bar. Cottage number 94
Was dark and damp. We had dragged the sofa
Out to try and warm and dry on the only fine
Afternoon when a sheepdog came by and into the Compound, low walled with broken breeze block
Placed to mark the cottage ground.
He beckoned us to follow him way back into the bog.
It seemed he had a mission and so we went
Along a mile or two at pace until he turned tail at
No particular point on the path and disappearing
From our view left us alone and panting.
A hotel waitress took pity on us at our only
Venture out to lunch. "Would we be wanting
Another lobster ? - its on the house," she said.
They had boiled too many for the service.
Could she tell we were on our honeymoon?
To be sure, still awkward, shy and out of place in Galway's wildest weather and Atlantic autumn storms.
I was up so late Now I cant
Hold my eyes open or concentrate
I really can't speculate
What kept me up so late
What possessed me
To be so careless and free
How this all messes with my mind
That everything I do feels like I am lagging behind
Oh how I wish I could rewind
Instead, I just want to fall out and unwind
Because I was up so late
Now it's not possible to concentrate
It's just crazy how no sleep makes me feel
Like my brain is out to lunch
And everything is a big deal
One thing is for sure
I got no business behind a wheel
Because I can hardly peel my eyelids open
To see what is in front of me
All I know is they are really sloping
And all I want to do is more moping
Just hoping that I can make something out of this day
All I can say when we want
To stay up late so we can play
It cost so much more than just
To next day in such a big way
So if I can sway you from wasting your next day
Because you want to stay up to play
It's way easier to just right off and throw away
Because you were up so late
Now it's not possible to concentrate
The 50's they found Elvis
And boy oh boy could he swing
The best part about him though
Is the boy could also sing
Of course there were many
Who tried his bell to ring
But it was only Elvis
That Rock & Roll crowned King
The 60's were invaded
By a drove of English blokes
From the Beatles to the Kinks to in between
The Rolling of the Stones
But we opened up some Doors
With a few bands of our own
As we headed further down
The road of Rock & Roll
We then watched the disco ball
Spinning round and round
As so went the 70's
With their ups and downs
Suddenly grinding to a halt
Barely with a sound
As fast as it came in
The 70's done left town
Then came in the 80's
Without much fanfare
Out went the disco
In came the hair
Not much more to talk about
That's about it I swear
When it came to the 80's
Not too many really cared
The 90's didn't just drop in
It was more a lunge
They called it rightly Nirvana
The day of the grunge
If you were not up with the times
Then you were counted out to lunch
But with the Jam Aunt Pearl made
I could never get enough
Now we're in the new Millennium
With the singers and their songs
Where went the Rock
Did it Roll off on its own
Never did it say goodbye
Before it was all gone
But I bet the bottom line
It won't be gone for long
Long live Rock&Roll
There once was a great white
Who was looking for a bite
And there was a seashore town
That had smiles instead of a frown
Preparing for a 100 year celebration
With wind surfing racing
It took a whole year of work
And the great white brought a knife and a fork
Towns people started to disappear
And there was something out to fear
Politician Wells who had money to spend
And put up a nice plan that would be strong enough to defend
Off the wind surfers did go
With the shark wanting to feed on the show
They got through the netting
then proceeded to do some upsetting
All this mess
Nearly made rich man Wells confess
But he never shook in his boots
Until his whirly bird went kapootz
With a television reporter getting out of hand
it was up to the author to take a stand
With Vic Morrow who was on loan or borrow
Played the Quint style for awhile
The writer ended up the Captain Brody fighter
As they went fishing with chum that they were dishing
The action in independent film was not missing
It all ended very fast with a nice blast
While the author threw the punch
Before taking his golden girl out to lunch