Long Scotch tape Poems
Long Scotch tape Poems. Below are the most popular long Scotch tape by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scotch tape poems by poem length and keyword.
Twas the night before Christmas- we heard not a peep
for our three little kids were in bed fast asleep.
We looked up at each other and knew it was time
to wrap bundles of gifts before midnight's last chime.
We then stacked all the paper and bows tucked away
and the presents for them we bought for Christmas day;
made ourselves nice and comfy on our playroom floor-
but then, all of a sudden- a knock at the door!
Running fast to the window, there was no one there-
just some branches from limbs that fell down in the air.
The wind fiercely sped up with a storm coming through;
At once, all the street lights disappeared from our view!
Now, our whole house turned dark- no lit tree to be seen.
This big power shutdown was bad news- unforeseen.
Our tall stack of nice presents still waiting for wrap;
Perhaps lanterns with candles could help fill the gap.
And yet, try as we may, wrapping presents? Not good!
Scotch tape's missing from the shelf where it always stood.
With these presents so large, it was needed for sure;
there is no other way to keep wrapping, secure.
Closed our eyes and we thought- what else now could we do?
We're so tired, we can't see, now without scotch tape too!
"Oh, I got it, I said, a new no-wrap technique!
In dark nooks plant these gifts- we can play hide and seek!"
December 1, 2022
Contest: The Night Before 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
I was a teenager when back when, when I first started working in the tape industry. Working in Manhattan traveling from New Jersey either by train, bus or car for seventeen long years. I've learnt the ins and outs from just about every standpoint in the field. Starting from unloading trucks, to customer service, into sales and then eventually becoming an owner of my own company. I sold all different kinds of tapes, from scotch tape (which is actually just a cellophane tape sold by the infamous (3M Co.) to gaffer tape mainly used in the motion picture and television industry. There's a whole world of sticky substances out there that gets applied to some sort of material like cotton, cloth, cellophane, paper, polyester, aluminum, copper and tons of other kinds of foreign substances that can get adhesive applied on to. Almost every business or company uses some sort of tape. So, this is how it all works out in the end. Here I am, now at almost breaking the 65-age mark in life. After all these years of busting my butt and putting in the necessary time to make a living for myself. Well, here comes the ball-buster. Just like that ((SOLD)). The company that I helped build, the company that I grew with for almost 45 years of my life, just like that it's been sold and bought by some low-life never went to college son-of-a rich man idiot that knows nothing about the tape industry other than it is now owned by him. And that now went from being a family owned richly built company into a new family-owned corporate business that's slowly but surely getting rid of all the original employees and replacing them with new family members or part-time workers. In the past 3 years I've seen three companies that I have worked for, for almost 30 years have gone corporate. Two of the three I no longer work for because of the rules and regulations, like over the top insurances, workman's comp./liability insurance and million-dollar coverages on car insurance. It's totally unfair to the small-time companies. Thank goodness I've reached the age of retirement, or I might be working at McDonalds.
they went corporate
so many people suffered
happy to retire
I have six thousand things in my house that I do not need
Cannot find, do not hope to find. I would rather call Amazon
And have them bring me scotch tape, a hammer and nails
Than try to find them again, and I used them yesterday.
The day that three different people delivered something here
In an Amazon box. One picture frame, but I had ordered five.
Do not worry, my husband said, the other four are coming.
Today? I asked. Yes, believe it or not, they did.
Good thing too. I had painted five paintings specifically for
Those frames, the day before. That is how fast I am, and how
Compulsive I am and how determined I am to do whatever I
Want to do whenever I want to do it ….except organize stuff.
Tight about the past—
transparent glass panes,
stained and cracked
by crooked, wicked lies.
Sacred are these settled energies.
They muddle about,
never lifting their feet.
I mean higher than the next—
higher than anything else.
Tether thyself to greatness.
Witness its greatness,
or keep thinking
in the same tones you speak in.
There is no treatment—
only the fight
against debilitating sickness.
You hold it together
with shoestring,
scotch tape,
and wink-less nights
working alongside the sabbath,
long past first light.
Long double-shift shiftiness
into the only off day.
No longer tis old boulder—
a new obstacle
has been waiting for me.
I urgently need
the percentile damage increase.
If my awakened visions
lie in legitimacy,
or if they’re just
daydreams re-sold—
Sandman’s regift,
passed down,
along beside me,
and made well past due.
What use is standing upon
business if it’s business
encroaching on you?
It’s not impossible—
but the benefit
must be mine
before I just give it to you.
The man in front of me is a broken one,
and my fingers are drowning in dripping glue,
in cement,
in something meant to hold things
To hold him
To hold myself and others together.
Yet he binds himself
with puppet strings, scotch tape,
and the wet breath of drugs.
Batting at my outstretched
Hands
Dodging the warmth of a true touch,
He flinches.
He bleeds- visibly
and he screams from a
starlight-lost, daydream-blinded face
that I am wrong.
He shoves daggers into my seams,
prying at my wounds.
Burning red and pulsing in purple bruise
Image of a warrior
turned blue.
while leaking he bursts open.
Pain seeping into my sobbing mouth
From his unstitched scars
So easy to tear.
He rips with his own hands
At the both of us
When he does not cover his ears and turn his back
To cradle in a seething silence
Clutching with razor blade hands
the child,
The pained,
Chained, caged pet he swallows with every breath as if I cannot
See the lump in his throat
Or feel the kicking in his chest.
But I am a mountain,
capped in the blood of a hundred storms,
and I will not cave.
On my work desk there is a junk pile of career dolls,
A pile of papers, and one that oftentimes falls.
Along with an enormous empty blue water cup,
Stapler, scotch tape, stuffed animals, a little pink pup.
Six kitty cat notebooks with mismatched pages.
Hot cocoa mix, and a big can of refried beans,
Sore throat spray, a half-eaten container of juice,
A ripped up diary that once had a cover of puce.
Yellow lemonade that is disgustingly dried out and hard.
My staid colleagues often come in here for crazy hats and lard.
Pile of boring textbooks, one stuck open, and little germs unseen.
Dried ball of playdough. Six half-eaten chocolate bars from last Halloween.
A bunch of mismatched forks, a light up Christmas necklace that glows.
A discouraged keyboard, amid Kleenexes once stuffed up a nose.
The custodian opens the door, snakes her hand in
and grabs the waste paper can.
She will never be the right choice to lead my big fat
brass retirement band.
But when other people need something on a particular day,
They run into my office, and they scream, jumping around, and they say,
We know you have it somewhere. Can you find it? Do you think?
And I always hand them what they want, my hands smeared with fresh ink.
They say Adam and Eve pranced around wearing nothing
But fig leafs and the biggest grins the world has ever seen
Imagine NO FREAKING RULES!!!
All they had to worry about were those thorny bushes
And the occasional lightning bolt accompanied by a loud booming voice
Reminding Adam, “You owe me big time for this one, my friend!”
Caine and Abel along with seven other offsprings
Were the result of a lot of hanky panky
Do you blame him??? He was the luckiest dude EVER!!!
My question is, how did they keep those fig leafs in place
Scotch Tape? Elmer's Glue? Velcro?
Also why did they need those damn things to begin with
There wasn't another living soul to be seen
Imagine today, if we walked around naked as a jaybird
The population of the world would soar from 7 billion
To well over 20 billion in a matter of nine months counting twins
I'm not saying we couldn't carry on as usual with our daily routine
But perhaps the routine would be interrupted now and then
I have a suggestion for future generations if this becomes a problem
Think of Drew Carey nude!
CIPROFLOXACIN HCL 500 MG remedied urinary tract infection
No aversion nor embarrassment
admitting, divulging, and jumpstarting
poetic endeavor regarding yours truly
afflicted, blighted, and contracted
with urinary tract infection,
(though condition finds me
feeling pissed off),
whereby urination fraught with
painful burning, gouging,
and stinging sensation.
Aside from the aforementioned ailment
practically, nearly, nay already cured,
after taking bad medicine, I feel great,
but recognize necessity
to take full course
of poetically issued, incorporated,
and identified antibiotic
despite feeling more drowsy than usual.
Impossible mission scrambling,
rummaging, and traversing
complex edifice housing
nooks and crannies pinpointing
how I, albeit married (libido
long since took kamikaze nosedive -
most likely adverse side effect
courtesy countless medications
prescribed to alleviate the bane
of social anxiety, obsessive
compulsive disorder, palmar hyperhidrosis,
et alia) though celibate
became subjected to micturate
experienced problematic discharge
to take a wizz with difficulty and discomfort.
The miracle of modern medicine
(actually corroboration of many
intelligent people such as biochemists,
biomedical engineer, pharmaceutical scientists,
et cetera) nips in figurative bud
ailments of body, mind and spirit
without which yours truly
among untold other individuals
would be unable to function
close to their optimal level as possible.
Though long since averse
to the crass commercialization
of most holidays in general,
and Christmas in particular;
eons ago boyhood found me
unbounded, unrestrained, untethered,
et cetera with bounteous excitement
when December twenty fifth
approached then finally arrived
whereat I knew full well
bearer of various and sundry gifts
linkedin with mother reminding father
in quasi cryptic words scotch tape
and newspaper in such and such place.
At ripe old age
of three score plus three
orbitz around the nearest star
considerably less enthusiasm gushes forth
at clamoring to purchase
and/or receive presents,
but rather anonymous
zoological primate here
within apartment b44
simply wanted a hippopotamus
to appease the hidebound grinch.
Don't wanna be a dreamer's dream
When I'm wide awake with nothing to do
It's oh-god-thirty AM and the lights are bright
It's Friday night and I'm ready to fight
I'm not a maniac I'm an insomniac
Paranoia fills my every thought when I try to sleep
So I'm laying with eyes wide open
Hoping the scotch tape will hold
Don't wanna be lost in the hysteria
Of a psychotic dream
Haunted by my own imagination
Change the station, change the station
I'm not crazy I'm just lazy
And when the sun finally rises
I'll be laying with eyes closed shut
Hoping I'll wake up sometime soon
Lisa and I wrap and rap for Christmas.
Can you imagine the two of us doing that?
We’ve got Christmas playlists going
Christmas scented candles glowing,
and milky hot-chocolate flowing.
“Stir the marshmallows with the candy canes,”
Lisa says, like that’s something she has to explain.
We’re humming, singing and laughing,
and dancing because we’re happy.
We’re dashing to finish our wrapping,
we can’t have our suitemates catching
us executing the plans we’re hatching
to surprise them with gifts, enchanting.
The paper’s exotic, delicate and glittery
bought at Boyars Gifts, in New York City.
Why do the scissors keep getting lost?
Getting low on scotch-tape - we’ve used a lot.
We’ll be putting them, sneakily, under the tree
where they’ll add glamor and tease to our festivities.
I love the lights of the season - I love giving gifts.
For me, playing Santa is as good as it gets.
.
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