Long Showroom Poems
Long Showroom Poems. Below are the most popular long Showroom by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Showroom poems by poem length and keyword.
Colorful butterflies, shadow's midst light,
impressively, true blue male hue, in spite
of the female shadows in a brown hue,
yet, it's the white margin, brilliant sky blue
the wing topper real showroom stopper,
BLUE STEEL ... VICTOR/VICTORIA ... partner.
A kin to Euro, "The hills are ALLIED ...,"
to well TORN in the Eastern CURTAIN side,
the species mate truly RUSSIA WITH LOVE.
Pupae flights May through October ... speak of,
open spaces, fallow ground, sunny slopes,
while within day's light, wings open and scopes
bound to tall grass, midst others -- falls in threats,
one of nature's pleasant, worthwhile assets.
ON THE SCRAPHEAP OF LIFE
When we married you got my engine running, but now I want to sleep
I’ve just failed my annual service, you said my defects ran too deep
My sleek curves have lost their polish, I’m destined for the scrapheap
So you’re trading me in for a younger model, now I just sit and weep
Because this once racy little motor you no longer want to keep
My once classy chassis you always used to admire
I’ve got many miles to go, maybe I just need a hot wire
With some gas in my tank we could re-ignite the fire
But my body is rather dented, and I’ve gain a spare tire
The trusty mechanics say they’ll work both day and night
To ensure that my engine is running just right
I’ll be in showroom condition and look a delight
After many years, there’s bound to be wear and tear
So please don’t trade me in or keep me as a spare!
When my intermittent faults are fixed I’ll be going at full throttle!
My defects can be reversed, although it won’t be cheap
when the wheels are in motion, you’ll be filled with desire
all revved up, honey I’ll be giving you the green light
My engine is still running, I just need to know you care
If you toss me on the scrapheap… I’ll break down and hit the bottle
Minuanetta Contest
Sponsored by Gregory R Barden
2/21/18
simple chords holding her music together in the form of a forgotten book
the cover hanging off. tied on by determination and love of music
simple cords, her grandmother used to say, make it easy to listen to
she was a patient loving woman who mastered a piano in every showroom
the torch had been passed, and Sophie was now the family maestro
all musical ability had bypassed her mother and her siblings
her satin ruffled dress made a crispy sound as she shuffled to the bench
the orchestra was waiting for her to take the lead.
Simple chords she whispered under her breath
feeling her grandmother next to her.
Last year we planned a new kitchen
And went to the glossy showroom.
There were choices many,
But not flustered,
I was keen on slate grey and mustard.
The man too had a vision
Cupboards new, clean finish.
Then he spoke of the washing machine;
“I think they look best integrated,
Hidden behind closed doors.”
It made me pause…
White goods, classified
Too unclean to be seen.
As if in shame of her duties mundane.
Our domestic goddess,
Taken for granted.
Her duties -
Fed weekly and meekly
She takes on full loads,
Tumbles and turns,
Delivers, and births us clean clothes.
I knew how I loved her.
I chose not to hide her.
And she stands there,
Proudly on view.
Integral, dependable,
She’s a giver of time.
Present.
when I married Mike
I thought that our marriage would last forever
but in retrospect
I should have listened
to my dear old pa
as he walked me down the aisle…
pa said I could put the brakes on the wedding
but I was young and in love
Mike simply
adored my sleek curves
and shapely body
he'd get my motor running
but soon the polish
wore off our relationship
and he began working late
at the car showroom
later, much later
I discovered his ‘work’ was taking place on the back seat of a Buick
I wish that pa had warned me
that one day
my used car salesman husband
would 'trade me in' for a much younger model!
FICTIONAL POEM
Suzette Prime Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
01/29/21
Used to sell cars, it was a few years back.
I sported a tie, white shirt, and of course dress slacks.
It's good to know what's on the showroom floor.
Answer a customers question wrongly, they'll race to the door.
Knowledge is key, with a ton more of tact.
Lying sometimes, yeah, I've done it, that's fact.
Agreeing upon numbers, pen pointing to bottom line.
All that matters, is you get them to sign.
A hard fought sale, numbers juggled a bunch.
This guy got a deal, that's my salesman's hunch.
Delivery's been made, car rolls off the lot.
Will my commission be high, yeah right...probably not.
*Image of Paul Simon SNL by Giphy.
Simple Simon
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Woke up fresh as the day began,
Busy cooking, his wife named Anne,
Made his breakfast in a saucepan,
Enjoyed eating his plate of flan,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Filled with it and a bit more than,
Kissed his wife as the best he can,
Came a knock was cousin Tristan,
Kissed her again before he ran,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Walking with his fellow kinsman,
Who was a bit like a Tarzan,
He says, "We'll do as we did plan",
Simon says, "Yes, buy us a van",
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
His cousin be an anchorman,
Does things like some sort of game plan,
Says he will talk to the salesman,
Interviews him like a newsman,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Let him run the show as one-man,
Naught be a common businessman,
Just glad to be a middleman,
As Tristan drew the masterplan
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Waiting ate a bowl of pecan,
Tossed all the shells in a trash can,
Tristan smiled, "Got the minivan",
"And at a price that cost less than",
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Twas showroom new, in black and tan,
Best terms on the installment plan,
Signed, gift his full attention span,
While at the station, thanked Tristan,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Drove on home to show his wife Anne,
Who had a guest her friend, Roxanne,
Amused they were with the new van,
The cost, the look, in black and tan,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman,
Took wife Anne and her friend Roxanne,
Proud just been a little more than,
Wide-eyed no call by the sandman,
Off from work with Anne and their van,
Simple Simon the blessed pieman.
2020 March 03
*HM*
STRAND CHOICE C,any form,any theme
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2020 March 11
Vehicles, muscled cars were built, to be fast;
creatures of iron and steel;
the wildest beasts.
In the day of manufactured power, Lynx and Jaguar raced; thunderbirds flew low to ground with wings,
as fast as, a road runner.
The mighty Chevy of “57” dreams;
leant compassions ear to young Edsel,
when he failed his popularity test.
Lightening swift, these darts did fly;
racing down, route “66” back then,
the pride supported its own.
Metal, mega-mammals, like all others;
live and die their last wheeze and cough,
recorded by the crusher.
Those who signed away body parts;
the donors left a re-built legacy.
Beautiful and powerful, as their ancestors;
legacy lives on but, route “66” is a much milder path.
In Heaven’s showroom;
lion and lamb lie, side-by-side;
these are the souls of the metal mammals.
Zen showroom
Stillness speaks;
Teak wood designs
~~~~~~~~~
Words surge free
Creative impulse;
Vivid visions
~~~~~~~~~
Profound stillness
Calm silence charms;
Welcome rest
~~~~~~~~~
Late evening rain
Wet windowpane;
Chilly shivers
~~~~~~~~~
Moon glow mist
Black skyline spread;
No stars tonight
~~~~~~~~~
China ascending
Proud 'pax chinesis' hovers;
Flexing taut muscles
~~~~~~~~~
Small city state island
Singapore sling;
Little Red-Dot
~~~~~~~~~
If you must ask
I cannot tell;
Voice in the wind
~~~~~~~~~
Miniature books
Heavy on wisdom;
Light weight powers
~~~~~~~~~
She said
We said;
Much left unsaid
~~~~~~~~~
Musical montage
Familiar classics;
Late mother's memory
~~~~~~~~~
Coming and going
Sweet sad smiles;
Corridor strides
~~~~~~~~~
Last blessing here
Heart-to-heart talk;
A farewell moment
~~~~~~~~~
How do you say
Goodbye then;
Stay in my heart
~~~~~~~~~
Words buzz around
Collage in montage;
Unforgettable echoes
~~~~~~~~~
Joy and tears mix
Pain tangles cheer;
Fond memories swirl
~~~~~~~~~
Briefly, lightly...
A farewell whisper;
No birds sing
~~~~~~~~~
Bitter pain lingers
Pieces of broken heart;
Morning rainbow comfort
~~~~~~~~~
Journey journal
Heart-felt deposits;
Exquisite feelings lounge
~~~~~~~~~
Thus far now:
Seize this daze;
Craft fond memoirs
~~~~~~~~~
Sweet spot here
Free trade zone;
Buzzy business leaps
~~~~~~~~~
Live well then
You know not when;
Death harvests soul
~~~~~~~~~
Gratitude bows
Chant a mantra;
Heart knows soul
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
30 November 2016
Singapore
Ford Anglia
Ford Anglia, Ford Anglia,
You were always my favourite Car.
Distinctive shape and two-toned colour,
In the showroom, you were the Star.
Cortina, my Cortina,
Your sleek lines made a statement.
People would often turn their heads,
In wonder and amazement.
Zodiac, mighty Zodiac,
A real Man’s motor was this big boy.
Leather seats and chrome hub caps,
The Daddy with his pride and joy.
Escort, oh classic Escort,
You certainly broke the mould.
A family car that thrilled a generation,
So popular, millions were sold.
The old Fords had some character,
Unlike Fiesta, Mondeo or Focus.
Though the exhaust fumes weren’t too green,
Carbon Monoxide used to choke us.