Long Pastries Poems
Long Pastries Poems. Below are the most popular long Pastries by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pastries poems by poem length and keyword.
The Art of Acting
Step 1: Posture
Your posture is more important than you think.
The way you carry yourself can speak
Thoughts into the minds of others from miles away.
It can make them trust you more than they ever believed they would.
Step 2: Expressions
The expressions you portray can make those around you
Feel at ease or put them in a sense of discomfort.
If you do it well enough,
Even the toughest shells will crack.
Step 3: Actions
The actions you take can make the coldest gestures
Feel like the sun’s warmth in the dead of night.
If done correctly, the hardest pills to swallow
Can taste like the finest pastries
On a summer’s morning.
Step 4: Change
Every character needs a switch.
Some point in the plot
Where the intentions they once had, flip
And turn into a new goal for them to chase
Step 5: Endgame
Every story needs an ending.
Whether this ending is good or bad.
Whether it’s your desired outcome,
Or not.
Every story must end,
Even if you want it to keep going.
I
awakend
in the dead of night
passionate desires nibbled
hunger and thirst, consumed me
A Mayan princess was of no use to me now
I, who was king, became a slave to my lustful desires
Gargoyles and the devils helpers would fall at my feet, in death
yes in triumph I marched forth, eyes aglow, at the pastries I would devour
Note: The Title in English means "A Crime at Midnight" yes since childhood I am guilty of this crime!!!
Am I going crazy?
Down the rabbit hole I fall
This Eat Me, Drink Me moment
Which I can't consume at all
Whispered voices in the darkness
Where the Cheshire Cat may grin
A land of strange afflictions
Where the hands of time don't spin
Late though to the party
Where the teapot may be cold
Land of over-sugared pastries
Heart shaped; tempting to the soul
The tapping is relentless
Queen of Hearts is at the door
Though the risk of being headless
Doesn't stop my heart's rapport
The twins are set to argue
Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee
Head or heart perspective of
How this story's meant to be
The rabbit checks his pocket watch
As time ticks on.. twins natter
The dawning in this dreamland is..
I'm madder than the Hatter
We’re gonna grow you,
slop you and slow you...
Just as the moles do-
in and out of holes,
in and out of food.
What did I just brew?
Where are my hands on the shelf?
Clearing out the pastries like the little people’s elf’s-
jumping and cheering like we’ve got nobody else-
to sell,
to weld,
or baby... to be held.
I race the reaper to the melt,
let mush and mash and safety nets blast!
Get common,
get into a mass!
Why are you so fast!?
Why am I not on a mast?
Sailing this ship is why I take the past to my ass!?
**** you history!
**** you lazy lizardry!
I am misleading,
I am blistering!
What a fake **** you take to the depot truck!
Dump dump,
dump dump!
I hate that chump!
I hate fake trucks!
**** you man on top!!!!!
**** you Eminem bump!
Dizzy dazzy in a laugh,
dizzy Dazzy in a blast from ya past,
come and getta' pass,
free face flex,
and you know you’ll tap that ass.
Beattin’ in a bump,
we all take some chumps,
pull um down,
pull um down,
we gotta frown to the man who puts us down...
Whata fake stroke a’ luck to the beater of the buck!
Spit it out!
Give us hugs!
Give us hugs!
Give us hugs!
Give us hugs!
We’ve gotta love too young to bus-
transfer,
fudge,
or even lust,
we’ve gotta trust in each other when we must,
hit hard against the repeater even if we’re dust!
He woke and saw his beloved asleep with one breast partially exposed
And with his fantastic limp he works his way to the kitchen
He made coffee for her with croissant lathered with jam
Gently he pulled at the exposed women and gestures with the tray
Happily she wakes and with great affection reaches for him
Coffee is second and pastries with jam come close to him
But he is first and the love hits him like the wind
Gently it began and gale force now
He had to lash himself so he wouldn't be swept away
And it grew
She always lay in their position and there was no other
He would mold himself to her and tease her nipple
He came home weathered from the battle and with grief
Friends had been shot by snipers and the heat
He had seen a woman with a basket approach his friend
And she dropped the basket and pulled the belt
The explosion deafened him and his comrade's face is gone
Fragments hit him but he is running to his friend
But the friend lays silent
Gazing to the wetness on his leg he falls
He is deafened and wakes in terror and looks upon the leg
And finding himself in bed she tries to talk with him
But he claim's it's a bad dream and the basket falling
And later...............
The limp was his reminder of that day and he eats the croissant for his friend
I am very indecisive
And so choices cause me strife,
Though when I reveal my problem
I’ll be told to “get a life!”
For presented on a platter,
At a friend’s house, after lunch,
There was not just one dessert
But many pastries, quite a bunch.
Thus, confronted with cannolis,
Carrot cake and pecan pie
And a towering red velvet –
Who could choose? Well, how could I?
A Napoleon was nestled
Next to some dark chocolate square
And of course, since we are healthy,
There was lots of fruit to spare.
So I narrowed down my options;
In addition to some fruit,
I had part of a cannoli
And some carrot cake, to boot.
Oh, if all of life’s dilemmas
Could be solved with such a taste,
Then the problems that exist on earth
Could simply be erased!
Gluttony One of the Seven
By Franklin Price
12/19/2016
Gluttony one of the seven sins
That are deadly and defined
The Christmas Season's calling me
To make it one of mine
Two turkeys on the table
And twenty pounds of ham
I'll gain fifteen on Christmas day
May even have some spam
The turkey and stuffing
Mashed potatoes and the ham
All the low cal pies and cakes
Will make me fatter than I am
Southern sweet tea sugared
'Til syrup would be dismayed
Will wash down all the pastries
That put belt buckles in the shade
Still have ten pounds I added
When we gave November thanks
No longer looking like a jock
Now looking like a tank
Not saying I'm a glutton
Every day throughout the year
But I am on eating holidays
I think I've made that very clear
I don't really mean to sin
I'll exercise in sun and rain
I'll have ten months to lose the weight
Before I do it all again
I was advised that walking is healthy and good for the heart
So with new walking shoes, I figured that was a good start
I walk here, I walk there, I walk the hell everywhere
I stroll to many new places; I do say I walk with flair
I walked to the donut shop, oh what a pleasure
I walked to the pizza parlor, and tasted a slice
I walked to the local Chocolatier, and tasted many a delight
On to the liquor store, for a bottle or two
I walked up with the drunks, lined in a queue
The ice cream shop down the street, yes I walked there too
Double scoops I had, with whipped cream on top
I walked to the Burger place, their fries so so yummy
Walking home, there was the coffee shop!!!, with pastries for me tummy
Walking is wonderful, and good for the heart
But let me tell you
Tomorrow
I am driving to the gym
Notes: Well I cant always write dark depressing poems! This was inspired by dinner at friends, and a great conversation over a bottle of wine, and for those with a wicked twisted sense of humor there is a secret not so poetic part 2 to this!!!!! You need to request!! :)
Chilled Pinot Grigio and Chianti
on each side of the long table,
twenty seats for twenty guests;
Antipasto with zesty dressing...
colorful vegetables with chunks
of sharp provolone and hard salami...
to be served with crunchy bread,
the kind that grandmother used to bake.
Oh, wait the Creamy Alfredo with chicken and spinach
is steaming on a huge serving plate...what a work of art!
Oh, the aroma of the Parmesan cheese
fills the nostrils with the urge to start;
one by one, the well-dressed guests walk
into the dining room...who said they are guests?
It's family: grandpa, grandma, uncles, aunts and cousins!
we'll surely enjoy this Sunday dinner as last week.
What about dessert? Sweet pastries and chocolate Tiramisu
with a strong cup of espresso and a shot of Sanbuca Romana;
would you like to join us and meet the friendly chef Mario?
There's plenty of food for everyone...Buon Appetito!
Mrs. C and Mrs. H. had a little competition
They did not call it that, but their husbands knew.
It was a baking challenge, not featured on TV.
and their men benefited big time from it.
Mrs. C. held a coffee at her house on Tuesdays.
She served scrumptious desserts with whipped cream.
One time there was a pastry with oozing blueberries.
Today her concoction was stacked high with pancakes.
Mrs. H. would ooh and ahh and comment, but secretly seethe.
Her coffees were on Thursdays, and it was difficult to top Mrs. C’s pastries.
The husbands begged to come along, knowing what treat was in store.
On Thursday Mrs. H. served a quintessential peach cobbler.
They have done it again! The men retired to their couches for naps.
The women congratulated each other.
That is two days a week we can do what we want, they agreed.
Loving that they had put their husbands into a diabetic trance of sorts.