Long Snack Poems
Long Snack Poems. Below are the most popular long Snack by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Snack poems by poem length and keyword.
What do I reach for first? the rule of my land….
Pudding, and I quite honestly do not care what brand.
I love chocolate, caramel, and butterscotch too.
Adding whipped cream. M and M’s? Maybe a few.
I warm the pudding up in the microwave of course.
Remembering Mom’s pudding, it was such a sweet source.
If there is left over cake, I will put my pudding on that.
Pudding widens my smile, with a zip and a zap!
They have coconut cream now? What? You are kidding me!
Another snack, which brings my favorites to one, two and three.
Chocolate, and vanilla, wait, I love lemon pudding too!
If I had to narrow down the puddings, I would not know what to do.
My New Year Resolutions for twenty-twenty three
will find me writing more limericks, and I foresee
poems of a gentle nature and none about grief,
for I vow this year I'm going to turn over a new leaf
by not playing tit for tat games with a trivial motif.
No longer will I read poems by anyone contentious,
those who find my opinions sundry or dissentious.
I promise to give more comments to those deserving
and when on the road to animosity I'll be swerving.
I'll find a positive crumb in what others say and think
even if they say my poems are a waste of printing ink.
I'll seek a silver lining when negativity hovers over me
and add smiles to cups of soup to sweeten the recipe.
I'll spend more time writing aural music for my lyrics
without paying attention to the naysayers or critics.
Writing is a sentimental journey traversed by the heart.
Where it leads a composer or poet, is their work of art.
I will find the time to celebrate life with lively dances.
Some may laugh and mock me, but I'll take my chances
and they might join me in having fun. In fact, I'd insist!
There may be a few more resolutions to add to my list.
I'd better print a copy and keep it on my kitchen fridge
or I might be tempted to cheat a bit. Well, just a smidge
when reaching for a snack, as I 've been known to do...
and break a resolution I swear to keep, or maybe a few.
December 14, 2022
Resolutions for 2023 Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Apparent normalcy of seeing Simon crouched on bathroom tiles,
engrossed in energetic chewing, fails to filter my distress.
From outer body standpoint, hovered below ceiling's heat lamp,
I monitor the horror of my daughter's distraught face.
Ginger fringed, four foot five island stands on tiles first splat tarnishes.
Her scrunched hand shields centre of her face.
Vibrant sauce slides between her fingers, rivulets lead from between knuckles.
Confusion holds her captive. Velvet blond temples wince.
Metallic stiff hand draws away from her altered face.
Gaping space menaces a moustache of tomato soup.
Escaping stalactites extend from her feather faint face.
Rubbery bulb thousand times kissed
bread crumb sprinkled nose tip Rudolphs its ridiculous absence.
Coolest nochalance, Simon casts defiant dollar coin eyes at me.
In typical satisfied snack imbibed style, athletic tongue traverses his tame feline ferocity.
Miniature tiger teeth with clinician care cleaned, reminisce their red.
Placidly pleased by his sudden dismounted diplomacy, primal Simon forgot it.
Sun snoozing couch cushion
visited by vengeful psychotic.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Gory story. Feeds my fiction addiction.
3rd June 2020
Deborah’s Grandfather was fond of saying, other than at Thanksgiving, turkeys had no worth
for he believed that turkeys were the stupidest creatures on Earth.
He told stories of turkeys innocently and ignorantly standing on the ground
and staring up into the rain so long…they ultimately drowned…
Of course we know this isn’t true….and the reason for her grandfather’s sarcasm
is a genetic condition in turkeys called titanic torticollar spasms.
In truth we know turkeys are quite social creatures who also have big hearts
and contrary to what old farmers think…turkeys are quite smart.
I felt the need to test these competing theories…I figured it wouldn’t be hard
and for my test case I would use the turkey family that frequents our back yard.
They travel through once a day looking for the things that turkeys eat…stopping for a rest…which gave me the perfect opportunity to put my theory to the test.
I started taking handfuls of birdseed, “Hello turkeys!” I would say
then I’d toss those handfuls to them…at first they ran away.
Eventually however…those hungry turkeys found their way back
and seemed to be enjoying their complimentary mid-day snack.
The next day when I saw them in the yard…I greeted them…then tossed them seeds
eventually establishing a routine….as they became accustomed to our Balsam House cuisine.
Now the turkeys perch on the fence near our cabin…under an old chestnut tree
and If I don’t see them when they arrive…they gobble up at me.
“Hello turkeys! I yell to them as I hurry out the door…
then toss them the handfuls of seeds I know they’re waiting for.
So there you have it proof that turkeys are quite smart…no longer should we disdain them…
after all look how easy with some birdseed it was for me to train them.
However…as I watch them enjoying their mid day snack as happy as turkeys can be
I have to wonder when I hear them gobble from atop the fence…
If I was training them…or they were training me?
Whatever the answer…when I see them…my pride I can’t contain…
Hey…I notice it’s beginning to sprinkle…and they are gobbling…
I think I’ll go outside and join them…staring at the rain.
Can remember an ember from being a boy
Off for a trundle little me just a bundle of joy
Dream I am Roy of the Rovers or Rob Roy
Admit never did behave like Lord Fauntleroy
More up for a caper than being a paperboy
Dressing up always more Indian than cowboy
More bow and arrow shun the gun not my toy
Messing up older a bit bolder got first playboy
Each page teenage hormones rage their ploy
Confessing at some stage wore dodgy corduroy
Not a fave gave colder shoulder to sage Tolstoy
More plot thickens heart quickens Dickens envoy
Who's ever told sold better tales of the hoi polloi
Artful dodger that insightful and spriteful decoy
Delightful a bold cheeky and sneaky barrow boy
BUT
Liars & deniers stoking fires while we're choking annoy
Pariahs empires of desires requires knaves to employ
Craves those culture vulture raves which then destroy
Waves stroking cage of wage slaves to graves deploy
Don’t subscribe to tribe’s lust it must just surely cloy
Paths to Mars paves all caves in as did for Helen of Troy
SO
Won’t snaffle the health raffle... folks selling saveloy?
Or crickey chat to that spiky pikey prat yelling “Oi Oi”
We maybe all at sea but lets believe land’s nearly ahoy
Street food snack some heat... pak choi chilli and soy
Suss don’t ever be coy telling us what you dearly enjoy
The fuzzy warmth you feel clearly is the real deal mccoy
True birthday treat got to finally eat yearly at the Savoy
If beset then really never forget the reset for regret JOY
Anesthetized, day one, I become her bug caught in the web
Asphyxiated, entangled and cursed, numbed to feel no pain
It was a Wednesday if I remember when we wed
She grew a beard and punished me for breathing
I succumbed to her femininity, her tooth
It was a pretty one to chew with. That's the truth!
It was a Thursday in the second day of Lent
It took seconds for my bank account to empty
Her power of persuasion left me blank
A testament to her awesome empty nest to come
Three days into marriage we finally went to bed
Precious consumed my brain and everything within it
Who needs condoms when you have your condiments
Mustard , ketchup, cheese and crackers please
When you don't have long to live you snack instead
Day four, she put me on a lease to walk outdoors
Dogs and cats make better pets than spiders
Sentimental to the end she took my soul and sold it
I succumb to her because she is my wife
Not because she held a butcher knife
By day five she grew fat, sprang eight legs
Became a nag, that's only natural they say
I'm not afraid of anything that screams at me
Because she says so
I wish six days a week to be united
Or at least to live another day intact
It is not wise to question honey's facts
Seven days in love must be our lucky number
Marital bliss numbs me to my knees
I survived to kiss the bride another day
It must be time to say Good Bye.........
Eight days a week I feel the love inside
Eight legs wrapped around my spine
A tingling sensation, sentimental spider
Before I die, before you eat my mind again my love
The alimony check is on the table, post dated for your pleasure
Don't get pregnant. Use protection
For your convenience before I forget
I will always be your prey before your friend
I pray you don't get indigestion
There’s a forest bizarre neither nearby nor far,
full of sights somewhat scary to spook a soul wary.
The deep, darkened jungle, I think you’ll agree
is never a safe place for you or for me...
The vicious antihistamines attack unwary gabardines,
while hungry, snarling mezzanines will slither on the ground.
Meanwhile, some frenzied proselytes are hiding from the troglodytes,
who, angry from the zwieback bites, are swarming all around!
Inside this jungle, quarantines are known to suck on guillotines
until stampeding nazarenes charge in and scare them both.
The tetanus fights the diocese, as scallions snack on c’est la vies;
they all avoid isosceles, who hide in undergrowth.
The snarling tracheotomies stalk the nonsequitur
and scare defenseless equities that fly from Equador,
while swarms of green parentheses infest the feeble pinafore
for blood.
The buzzing twits and hypocrites gnaw on palaver bones
while fat, lethargic amulets are chased by chromosomes.
The sleepy, sluggish genuflects had best avoid the palindromes
in mud.
You may never have heard of a place so absurd,
you may opt to believe it a myth.
But if ever you visit and wonder, “what is it?”
just ask a nearby monolith.
Mmm what a good morning it is to be looking at my queen
Am I still dreaming and if so don’t wake me up from this season
It’s not winter, spring, summer, or fall but everyday I fall all over again
For you, somewhere in the middle we exist take my hand and we just sit in bliss, she can’t miss
She yawns, I give her a kiss
My appetite is hungry clean
This is just the appetizer as she awakes from her beauty sleep, looking so appetizing to me
Dinner on the way, someone say please say grace
Oh Lord have mercy, can’t believe she really picked me
She’s a hand full so I got my plate full but I still want seconds…minutes, hours, don’t matter I’ll wait as long as it takes
Looking like a snack right before dessert
Kisses so sweet can I have some more sugar with that cake please
I don’t like icing unless it’s whipped, but the way she whips it up is so delicious
Dessert is already scheduled
But we don’t need to stick to the schedule, like breakfast for dinner
Life never sticks to the schedule, like the worst always comes after the best
But that don’t matter my baby is looking mmm, mmm good
p.s. like a three-course meal I want it all…
Could you tell me why most hippopotami
Weigh about as much as a truck
In the animal kingdom diets are not common
So they're really poop out of luck
A donkey with wings or an ass that sings
Quite an image I have in my mind
Some like listening to a cockatoo warble
But I think that's quite assinine
Now why do most newborns poop at will
They emerge without manners
Farting in front of friends and neighbours
Sure makes you stutter and stammer
When misplacing an important document
You find it in the last place you look
Why not look there in the first place I wonder
You'll be stunned at the short time it took
Admit I ain't perfect but who the hell is
Sometimes I dribble in my beard
Imagine it sounds quite disgusting to you guys
A snack for when bedtime is near
Why do we cringe at the sound of one's nails
Screeching across a blackboard
Sends chills up and down our li'l ole spines
Can feel 'em right now, oh Lord!
I raised a baby lion
He was cute and he was fine.
He ate meat, and no potatoes,
I was the only one he’d mind
My husband left quite swiftly
In the middle of a day
After he and Lenny Lion wrestled,
He was scared, and straight away.
Lenny’s favorite was raw meat.
Cooked, absolutely not.
He liked it fresh and tender
And not the stuff I bought.
The mailman was grouchy,
The mailman was late.
I lost my silly temper,
And I served him on a plate.
I lured over the cute neighbor
The one who did me wrong
Lenny finished her at breakfast,
Spitting out her thong
People were suspicious
They stopped coming to the house,
Anyway, I thought they did,
But Lenny was no mouse
His appetite got bigger,
It was hard to parade them in.
He started getting hungry
And his tummy seemed quite thin
He is sitting in the kitchen,
Waiting for a snack.
I am creeping out my window,
There is no time to pack.