Long Saturdays Poems
Long Saturdays Poems. Below are the most popular long Saturdays by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Saturdays poems by poem length and keyword.
We all have our time machines.
Some take us back, they're called memories.
Some take us forward, they're called dreams.
Jeremy Irons, English Actor
_______________________
Oh I recall,
the dances and the love crushes;
at my high school on Saturdays,
the waltzing was more of a shove.
But the most fun was in the jumping and twirling,
it was sort of a wild dance that sent us whirling;
there was deep dipping and swirling,
and the skirts were tight and sexy and the heels high.
Whitney sang,
and the colors were neon bright;
hip hop was just around the corner,
we were a bit too sexy for school kids.
But, nothing bad really happened it was all show,
the loudness of the music would just grow and grow;
and it does not seem all that long ago,
I can still his voice asking, "dance with me.
___________________________
March 2, 2020
Poetry/Free Verse/Memories
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1232-563-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
DWM Contest
Kim Rodrigues
First Place
I'm not the average stupid mundane broad that's so stupid that I cannot see
That you get a rise and sick pleasure, when you intentionally hurt me
A sociopathic, psychotic, and paranoid-schizophrenic narcissist is all you'll be
Your soul only operates when you're syphoning life forces of the weakened prey
Every day you wear a mask 'cause you aren't willing to learn the righteous way
You're stuck in your past time-warp of dilapidated mistakes you can't cut loose
You have no knowledge of common sense or rationalization truths
You'd rather be stubborn and stay in your low-frequency comfort-zone
Instead of giving a real loyal woman after 7.5 years her own rightful home
Your words say you want me to be treated as a queen ruling an invisible castle
'Cause every time we try and work as a team - it becomes an udder disaster
You made all these promises, said all these sweet-nothings - turned lies
But still over and over you force me over and over again - thousands of tries
You're only "in love" with me on Mondays, Wednesdays, and maybe Fridays
Yet, Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays you hate me - not my days
I'm your little puppet-stringed elf, and your pu$$y-slave you can up and use
Still you kept this "acting like you were madly in love with me" just a rouse
Being a professional
Being at your very best
Seems encouraging and great
But it's awesome being of part in someone's memoir
Getting a job is great
Well skilled to work for hours
Really making edge and thriving better
What's more like your growth in personal
Mondays through Fridays
Busy over works
Sundays to prepare for the new weeks
Let your Saturdays be for impacts
Mine used to be for rest
Sometimes for reflection
Most times to invest on personal growth
How I wish it could make a definition
Changing lives
One person at a time
But sports get me deprive
Of making out for the prime
It is never too late
If a start is not good enough
A new start
Will worth a desiring end than coping with fluff
Little Yellow Bus
First day of school yellow bus stopping at the mailbox,
Bouncing down country roads - pausing next to city sidewalks.
Nothing seems to stop you not autumn rain nor early sleet
Morning and by afternoon you travel busy roads and streets.
Traffic never phases you - just motor on,
Following appointed routes - this your daily marathon.
Girls with pompoms, boys with bats, runners from a track meet,
Students ride of every age filling up your empty seats.
Do you sigh when you rest within the bus brickyard
Or dream the school year yet to come riding lanes and boulevards?
Waiting for your arrival, bus stop routine day-to-day,
Sometimes have to remember you don’t come on Saturdays! Hooray!
9-11-20
Contest: Fall-Autumn Rhyme
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Back in the day
At least that is what people say
I have been at Rochdale 61 years
Hard to believe how time flies
I was Seven when I moved into Rochdale
Current age is a secret and I won’t prove
You could say, I am a “ROCHDALE FIXTURE”
Human structure among the Rochdale structure forming legacy
Rochdale wasn’t even complete then as some of the buildings were still skeletons among the completed
I had moved with my Grandparents which now they are deceased.
It was the intriguing Big Mall and Small Mall of significant
I spent part of my life in the Big Mall since we had moved to Group 2, which I still live today
My venture to the Rochdale Movie Theater then where I saw my James Bond 007 Sean Connery Action packed thrillers and Ten Little Indians on Saturdays were my movie days.
Kress was my sometimes in shopping sprees in the Big Mall
Peter Pan Bakery, I can still smell the aroma of goodness of the baked goods
That woke up the senses in my mind
King Karol Restaurant in the Big Mall comes to mine
My Grandfather would treat me dinner of the Baked Potato and Broiled Sirloin Steak made to perfection
Always got my attention
I used to buy the big box of Popcorn
You probably didn’t know this, but we had a Men’s Clothing store in the Big Mall run by people who had the Barber Shop that was outside the big mall
I did buy some pants from there, but as the years rolled on so did my waist circumference
I made a splash in the Rochdale Newspaper near the Community Center in the 1960’s
A picture of me and a white girl riding our bicycles through a puddle was captured and appeared in the Rochdale Newspaper.
We were going in different directions
The Big Mall was my candy galore
It became the Dentist for sure
The memories
Time I never forgot
I wish those Rochdale days would return
Years roll on and nothing stays the same
A thought although
Still living the Rochdale legacy
“Fulfill and be counted”.
Why aren't words spilled, have voices stilled?
Our protest songs barely a squeak.
Have we grown inured to a hateful world,
now rest on our laurels, so to speak.
Does a hate virus pour an infectious spore,
allowing cacophony to poison the truth?
Words need to be aired, and honesty shared
if for nothing else, to rescue our youth.
Teens' past recalls Saturdays cruising Mall
But now they fear gunshots will ring out
A walk at night among star-filled quiet,
is a peace we can now seldom bring about.
We shudder with disgust with days we can't trust,
our children feel unsafe when at school.
Many lives have been lost, at terrible cost
Do we remember the Golden Rule?
"Love thy neighbor as thyself" no longer on shelf,
The book, "Love Thyself" is best seller, easily instilled.
Houses, drugs, money blown, more and more to own,
while some children sleep with their tummy never filled.
Drugs have become a game, our nation in shame.
Why is it legal for celebrities to imbibe?
Their noisy abuse keeps drug lanes in use,
while their friendly doc will gladly prescribe.
Words are our swords; truth cannot be ignored:
a powerful word often determines fate.
Lessons to teach, the whole world to reach.
for Earth and Humankind, we must not wait!
When I look at you, silhouettes spread through time,
Variations of life, in the curtain of stars,
As children, we lured each other with a warm thought,
Down an alley, where you brought me a large beetle,
And on my hair, you gently placed the odd traveler,
We gave it a name, and you whispered secrets,
A string of wisdoms from its tiny world,
You were a genius, speaking the frogs' language,
I believe every word, and worlds of beetles
In my wide eyes, are not silly at all.
When winter heralds an unknown ending,
And in snowy garments, my soul is lost,
In another realm, our fates have shifted,
Me a man, you a woman, a change without fears,
With a new body, I learn to love you anew,
No corner of the cosmos feels alien or cold.
The heights call us to be migrating birds,
Other times we meet as the hands of a clock,
I chase after you in flight, but I cannot reach.
Sometimes we are lazy morning cats,
Occasionally, I weave colorful ribbons into your hair,
I stroke your thighs faintly, in our silent game.
It seems that universes will never end,
Through every cell, I feel your hand like dreams,
In another life we laugh, choked by a sip,
In another, I'm a bee and I sting you, you're gone.
Often you kiss me goodbye,
And you embark on an endless journey, as if forever.
We meet at the front, and you carry me,
Wounded soldier, you ask if death hurts much.
We lay trembling hands over your wounds,
And we greet victory with open arms,
We stand in squares, veterans, and I remind you,
Since childhood, you were always by my side.
On the days when children look out from the bus,
They have your profound eyes and my calm voice,
Your stature and my footsteps on the pavements,
Your education, my tenderness, and your strength.
When old age comes and you whisper to me gently,
Thank you for being the sun in my life,
And I call you softly, "My sun."
On Saturdays when I tint my lips red,
Your cheeks bear kisses, like falling leaves,
I tell myself that dying without knowing you,
Is a great fear, a wild, nonsensical fear,
Without having lived, even one full life together.
Recalling Laughing Reading Learning Teaching myself
the flicker of into night with all of the to cook and how to wear
fireflies my sisters Nancy Drew books loving to eat makeup
Rainbows over Pizza Troll dolls Ping pong in Boyfriends and
Iowan Saturdays Hoppity-Hop study hall and drive-in movie
corn fields Popcorn Sundays and my bike Swing Choir kisses
Lying in grass Grandma's house The movie house Sleepovers' Dancing to
seeing at the end of with its starred chit chat live music at
shapes in clouds the lane ceiling and girlie games twilight
Hot days Lilac bushes Gaily Herman's Hermits Writing
cooling off and the big spinning on Bread and short stories -
at Weed Park Pool ballfield carnival rides 3-Dog Night dreaming awake
Snowy winters The tangled woods Endlessly Clothes bought with All the
raspberry behind our swinging babysitting wonderful things
summers first house up to the sky money of my youth
Oct. 17, 2018 for the Charlieku 4-3-2 Poetry Contest of charles messina
Words like choir, etc. checked by HowManySyllables.com
Monday, as your child,
I came into this world one September morning at 9:52,
a time which perhaps not coincidentally adds up to my destiny of seven.
On this morning, you welcomed me - a brand new soul -
along with others (at least in my vicinity)– with sunshine
and with the promise
of many other Mondays yet to come.
Many times in my life (since my school age)
I have not spoken well of you.
After my Friday afternoons, which hasten through my Saturdays and Sundays,
I simply cannot have as much time for the leisure activities I so enjoy
when every time, Monday, you roll around.
People even sing about how you and rainy days can let them down!
But in reality, Monday, you have rarely made me frown.
You simply force me to face the responsibilities of my work week,
for you, Monday, are the day of fresh beginnings.
People joke about you; some despise you;
some are even nursing hangovers from the night before.
Often I wish not to see you come, yet how can I hate you?
You were there for me from the very beginning. Despite what the calendar says
Monday – like the number of my name- you are my number one!
Aug. 5, 2018 for the Mondays Poetry Contest of Tania Kitchin
Scruffy the Bantam
by Robert (Bob) Moore © 2015
Grey Mare Lane Markets, was a place I used to like
I used to go there Saturdays, riding on my bike
Down Mount Road, then Hyde Road, then down Pottery Lane
Told my Mam a snake I’d buy, she’d say “then don’t come home again”
I ended up with day old chicks, a couple for 5 bob
I used to think they’d give me eggs, and I’d be like Old Lob
but they would not even last the day,
before the poor things passed away
so next week I will buy some more,
telling Mam I’d “buy a snake” as I ran out the door.
One day I got a fighter, who made it through the day,
a real bantam rooster, who decided he would stay,
he lived just down the garden, in my dad’s little shed
I always called him Scruffy, ‘cause of the black mark on his head
He was afraid of nothing, not dogs or cats or me,
and I always threatened him, one day you’ll be my tea,
then he was gone, I don’t know where, I guess I never will
I like to think he chased a cat, and is trying to catch it still