Long Tills Poems
Long Tills Poems. Below are the most popular long Tills by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tills poems by poem length and keyword.
Special offer for forbidden fruit two for the price of one
Discounted pleasure until ultimate stock clearance lasts
Adam’s apples included
Unisex versions available
Sustainable and organic
Nails and planks for the eye flat-packed easy to assemble
Build your own bloody cross instructions included for free
Whips for self-flagellation
Strictly for over 18’s only
Change water into whine
Serpent skin negligees and rings for nipples and manhood
See-through loin cloths for aspiring Buddhas handmade in hell
Mount pleasant meets fig tree
Biodegradable Lotus blossoms
Kamasutra deflowering guaranteed
Eider ducks in a row and Noah’s Arc for foaming bath tubs
Pull the plug on solitude and play Eros full steam ahead
Rubber dolls with vacuum function
Touch Mahal at the press of a button
Mandala and kind Karma on the spot
Meanwhile Hey Judas blasts sounds through supermarket isles
As encouragement for a little temptation at the bread counter
Self-rising yeast and sugar watchtowers
Lick away your sins until kingdom comes
With crispy pretzels from Salt Lake City
Nihilist colouring books on display no glossy crayons needed
Agnostic wet dreams wrapped in silk brassieres and braces
The end is nearer than the cashier
A reaper tills luscious fields of plenty
Until blinders fall under a heavy load
30th December 2019
I ham guilty for gobbledygook...
and ruffling turkey feathers!
An innocent miss steak kin...
once former main lion,
resident iz cow herd vegetarian boar
ring beastie boy, who doth
newt practice, what he preaches your
truly battens down chicken
coop hatches so... call me galore
re: us hypocritic,
this honest to dog omnivore – more
accurate said buzzfeeding primate -
*****sapiens, he whelk hams
adieu after quick bonjour
hears ear splitting eeyore
deaf finning chore
tills unable to ignore
admits transgression,
now wonder wherefore
whether art thou still
game to reed my adore
hub bull poetry
understandable if ye deplore
such atrocious, egregious, opprobrious...,
violating ethical core
puss regarding straying
against dietary herbivore
rudimentary eel lamb ants
(chocolate covered my dear Watson)
boot fault in the starfish...por
favor mice elf can
oxe plain twittering like plover
with reasonable rhyme for sure
don't get doggy dimples in bunch
cause to skewer me but... but before...
sending killing squad to slaughter -
this puppy, aye kindly honour
my wish and don
me noggin with pompadour
as fetching drag queen
torpedo sized bosom
squirting parti-color
milk as self defense mechanism
averting casus belli thus
amidst melee I abhor
find self on horns of dilemma
life story these of this poor
cooked goose flambé
caught between rock and trapdoor
special cannibal delight
where madding crowd
chants "send him back"
accursed unconscionable roar
ring anger, but lurch for eats,
an impulsive reflex courtesy extempore
rain nee yes unforgivable poor
craven impulse to up peas hunger
uncontrollably craving regarding carnivore
pang additionally not further injure
ring innocent animal plus more
to this fishy tail than
meats the Wawa birdseye.
See that you see
Just when you look
In what must be
An open book.
Feel what you feel
In thoughts that heal
The broken will
As touch now tills.
Glimpse moments here
Where joy springs dear
As mist now steer
The paths made clear.
Do what you do
As if to woo
The soul in you
In fading dew.
Too soon we fade
Just as we wade
Into life's trade
A sad charade.
All here breeds change
By hidden range
In times made strange
In thoughts deranged.
Words and motifs
Mock ghastly brief
As patterns drift
In unseen grief.
Pain seeds more pain
In awkward grain
In harsh disdain
In sure complain.
Prime between prime
The waves of time
As poignant rhymes
Unfurl loose chimes.
Nothing comes close
To that sure dose
Of gall and prose:
A fragrant rose.
Seize time and space
With a stern face
To fling love's trace
Here in this place.
Live well your date
Where joy greets fate
To fill your plate
As life looms late.
Leon Enriquez
18 April 2015
Singapore
My father,
My father is no special Man, if special is determined by 6 packs and built muscles.
Infact he is a good example of an African man who because of late eating has super-pack as stomach instead of 6 packs.
Baa mi
The man who through toils and sweats, tills the ground with hard labour as though he was sentenced by the almighty to be a labourer.
He prioritises providing for us over taking care of himself as he as sacrificed self on the altar of responsibilities.
Nna'm
Always in silence when finance is limited
Quietly strategizing the next move to ensure that the home is a home with provisions provided for the citizens of his kingdom.
He faces the odds of limited resources in the streets and enters each day with a coin or the promise of a coin for the next day.
Baba nna
I call you my spartan
For the twists and turns through impossibilities to ensure that I live a life of futuristic possibilities.
My father
I hope this letter shows you that:
"we see you"
We see your sweats in the seas of endless strivings
We see the pains behind your smiles
We see your unwavering love at the cost of your peace
We see you
Through all the inflations with no consideration of limitations
We see you father
And we love you.
Happy father's day father, for it is you who makes "being the head" a honourable job description.
Half price sale, half price sale’
Half price sale today.
Into the town centre on a bus
Rode those to be plundered.
Forward the crowd as it swayed
“Charge on your card! The cry
Into the town centre to shop
Rode those to be plundered
Shoppers to the right of them
Shoppers to the left of them
Shoppers all in front of them
Brolly and handbag drawn, at bargains
They wondered.
Storming the shelves they yelled
On to the tills they fell
Into the jaws of debt
Into the hardest sell
Charged those that were plundered
Where are the deals they made?
Oh how they did some trade
All the town wondered
Would bill’s ever be paid
In the homes of those
That were plundered.
Charlie Milne 2008
Thank you and sorry, Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892),
A great poet from a time of the greatest poets.
Mommy what will it take,
To make time for me,
Building sandcastles at the sea?
Maybe I must light the house on fire,
To get your attention and love I desired.
Or rob a bank, give you all the money,
To pay the bills, so you can stop complain,
You are tired of hitting the tills.
I can cut my wrist ‘till it bleed,
Then maybe you will see,
I am real and not just part of your to do list.
But also exist.
I am tired of these lies,
I have to hide.
“Mommy can’t come to my concert or parent meeting,
Because she is away for business.
She promised next time she will come,
I am her priority number one.”
We moved up North and settled down.
We moved to Egremont, a crying out town.
Crying out for money to be invested, alas!
Not too many people were interested. Alas.
The people are good, wholesome and true,
A community of strength, of township glue.
It has a church, a dentist and great vets,
It has a post office and shop selling pets.
It has a memorial where time stands still.
A grocers, a bakers sounding their tills.
Several schools, a library, even a bookies
And best of all Old Grandmas' cookies.
We moved up North to start afresh; anew.
We lost some friends but only a few;
Their 'last post' heard across the vale,
Echoing memories into far distant pale.
Not all was lost. As time went by
We made friends anew; the chosen few.
The snow capped mountains, crystal lakes.
All worthwhile, we did what it takes.
We moved up North and settled down,
We moved to Egremont, a crying out town.
Crying for money to be invested, alas!
Not too many people were interested. Alas.
The heart writes:
Watch words cite
In plain sight
A new light.
The pen curls:
Watch mind hurl
Wit on page
To fit rage.
The touch burns:
As thought churns
A fine flow
That now shows.
The taste feels:
Pulse that heals
Surge of pain
As words gain.
Calm truth tills:
As time spills
Rhymes that sketch
Moves that match.
Wise ways know:
What signs show
Touch that grips
As heart skips.
Write more writes:
Rhymes on-site
To cast light
On love right.
Words stain page:
Ink strokes sage
As craft styles
Rhymes poise piles.
Works in rhymes:
Seeds new chimes
In crisp art
From deep heart.
Words in blend:
Round odd bends
Tell of rhymes
That take time.
Leon Enriquez
31 July 2018
Singapore
I ham quill tee for gobbledygook...
and ruffling tail feathers!
An innocent miss steak kin...
once former main lion den cha hoard servant,
resident iz cow herd vegetarian boar
hoof faux whatever reason iz explore
ring bing foo fighting beastie boy, who doth
newt practice, what he preaches your
truly battens down chicken
coop hatches so... call me galore
re: us hypocritic,
this honest to dog omnivore – more
accurate said buzzfeeding primate -
*****sapiens, he whelk hams
adieu after quick bonjour
hears ear splitting eeyore
deaf finning chore
tills unable to ignore
admits transgression,
now wonder wherefore
whether art thou still
game to reed my adore
hub bull poetry
understandable if ye deplore
such atrocious, egregious, opprobrious...,
violating ethical core
puss regarding straying
against dietary herbivore
rudimentary eel lamb ants
(chocolate covered my dear Watson)
boot fault in the starfish...por
favor mice elf can
oxe plain twittering like plover
with reasonable rhyme for sure
don't get doggy dimples in bunch
cause to skewer me but... but before...
sending killing squad to slaughter -
this puppy, aye kindly honour
my wish and don
me noggin with pompadour
as fetching drag queen
torpedo sized bosom
squirting parti-color
milk as self defense mechanism
averting casus belli thus
amidst melee I abhor
find self on horns of dilemma
life story of this poor
cooked goose flambé
caught between rock and trapdoor
special cannibal delight
where madding crowd
chants "send him back"
accursed unconscionable roar
ring anger, but lurch for eats,
an impulsive reflex courtesy extempore
rain nee yes unforgivable poor
craven impulse to up peas hunger
uncontrollably craving regarding carnivore
pang additionally not further injure
ring innocent animal plus more
to this fishy tail than
meats the Wawa birdseye.
The stores are heaving, hear the tills jing-a-ling
Dilatory Charlie hasn’t purchased a thing
He’s on a mission, buying last minute gift
Better get something good or it’ll cause a rift
But it Christmas time, I hear Charlie whine
Shelves are all empty – didn’t get there on time
Can’t get wifey a present, no gift for the tree
It doesn’t bode well for this family!
Charlie goes to the garage to get her some flowers
The bouquet’s half dead it’s been outside for hours
He heads to the pub where he’ll sup lots of beer
and then stumble home full of dread and fear
Cos its Christmas time, I hear Charlie whine
Shelves are all empty – didn’t get there on time
Dead flowers as a present, no gift for the tree
It doesn’t bode well for this family!
HAPPY CHRISTMAS SOUPERS!
25/12/19