Long Tortillas Poems
Long Tortillas Poems. Below are the most popular long Tortillas by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tortillas poems by poem length and keyword.
At the closest point, Russia and the U.S.
Are less than two miles apart
If an altercation breaks out between them
Using bikes instead of tanks would be smart
Baby robins eat 14 feet of worms a day
Eeew! That's pretty gross to me
If you're a baby robin though you'd be anxious
To slither them down with glee
Cleopatra married two of her brothers
Might have considered it if I had one
George Washington grew marijuana in his garden
A pothead before President he'd become
Q-Tips were originally called “Baby Gays”
For obvious reasons, not a good idea
Tablecloths were originally meant to be towels
To wipe your face after eating tortillas
Cranberries are sorted by bouncing them
Ripe ones can be dribbled like a basketball
Hope their floors are immaculately clean
Else yours truly would be really appalled
Ancient Egyptians slept on pillows of stone
Guess they'd never hear of a Tempur-Pedic
Must have got up in a pretty foul mood
Uttering phrases that weren't too comedic
Did you know Burt Reynolds is a Cherokee
Well Kimosabe, that's a new one on me
A ball of glass bounces higher than a rubber ball
Who owns a ball of glass, that's silly
In our lifetime, we grow 590 miles of hair
Imagine if we never got it cut
We'd need a special valet trailing behind
To make sure in a door it don't get shut
Lightning generates temperatures 5 times hotter
Than those at the surface of the sun
One ragweed plant releases a billion grains of pollen
Allergy sufferers don't think that's fun
© Jack Ellison 2015
At the closest point, Russia and the U.S.
Are less than two miles apart
If an altercation breaks out between them
Using bikes instead of tanks would be smart
Baby robins eat 14 feet of worms a day
Eeew! That's pretty gross to me
If you're a baby robin though you'd be anxious
To slither them down with glee
Cleopatra married two of her brothers
Might have considered it if I had one
George Washington grew marijuana in his garden
A pothead before President he'd become
Q-Tips were originally called “Baby Gays”
For obvious reasons, not a good idea
Tablecloths were originally meant to be towels
To wipe your face after eating tortillas
Cranberries are sorted by bouncing them
Ripe ones can be dribbled like a basketball
Hope their floors are immaculately clean
Else yours truly would be really appalled
Ancient Egyptians slept on pillows of stone
Guess they'd never heard of a Temper-Pedic
Must have got up in a pretty foul mood
Uttering phrases that weren't too comedic
Did you know Burt Reynolds is a Cherokee
Well Kimosabe, that's a new one on me
A ball of glass bounces higher than a rubber ball
Who owns a ball of glass, that's silly
In our lifetime, we grow 590 miles of hair
Imagine if we never got it cut
We'd need a special valet trailing behind
To make sure in a door it don't get shut
Lightning generates temperatures 5 times hotter
Than those at the surface of the sun
One ragweed plant releases a billion grains of pollen
Allergy sufferers don't think that's fun!
Charley my wheel horse says that Jim is a yack, always jawing now.
They are both scrunchers, they nearly swallow their teeth on chow.
Jim is unsalted, but not lazy or slow, although he has trail dust grime.
He always responds well to “all hands and the cook” and in good time.
When the Mexican vaquero joins us, there is back slapping sure.
That’s when the biscuit roller trades in biscuits for tortillas, pure.
A ballyhoo? I do not think so, Bar dog. Can I get a John barley corn?
I would like to drink the cattle drive off my spurs, until it be morn.
How much does it cost to stay in the dice house tonight?
Don’t want to be honey-fuggled, so no Kansas sheep dip, all right?
a fresh mail order cowboy just entered the saloon, of course.
Don’t want to be a nosy parker, but did he just dismount the iron horse?
Did you see where I put my gelding smacker? I sleep with it naturally.
I am no lapper, but I could go for another John Barley Corn from thee.
Texas cakewalk tomorrow? Hmmm I wish I could stay but I am dragg’n.
Say hello to my cousin Sam, he drives the county’s meat wagon.
I kind of like a good hang’n when there’s a well-deserved California collar.
Was they horse thieves or murderers or what? Hey give my horse a holler.
I thought I saw a Cottonwood blossom when I rode into this place.
But there was no hellaballoo, so I wondered if it was the case.
I was made
For war.
She let her
Sugar pour.
She was made
For peace.
I fought with
The police.
I have a head
Full of bad ideas.
She is making home
Made tortillas.
I'm a work
In project.
She is a
Desired object.
I have too
Much to say.
She is a
Quiet day.
I easily
Fall apart.
She is smooth,
State of the art.
I’m full of
Nervous energy.
She’s a special
Documentary.
I’m that,
Four AM call.
She is the
First snowfall.
I’m full of
Confrontation.
She is a solid
Foundation.
I’m ready
To attack.
She’s easy going
And relaxed.
I can make
A scene.
She is a
Living dream.
I’m a ing
Mess.
She is hot
Off the press.
I seem to
Know it all.
She is that
One free call.
I’m a big
Ball of worry.
She is never
In a hurry.
There is something
Wrong with me.
She is perfect
As can be.
I run hot
Then cold.
She is a
Sight to behold.
Turbo1904
I remember Grandma’s beauty
The way she’d grace her smile at me
I remember Grandma’s duty
Holding family together
I remember the old large home
A large yard with a cyclone fence
I remember no small kitties
Couldn’t afford the extra expense
I remember no TV set
To watch Dragnet or Lassie shows
I remember a radio
Latin Music she always chose
I remember the Impala
Cool 1950’s model rove
Crazy grandma behind the wheel
Had to close your eyes when she drove
I remember her kindness
Her home was your home to visit
Stacks of warm homemade tortillas,
Tamales, warm food in the skillet
I remember gradually
With small tremors, slurred speech, stiffness,
She had uncontrollable shakes
Parkinson’s disease her illness
I remember Grandma’s beauty
I remember Grandma’s kindness
I remember Grandma’s caress
I remember Grandma’s illness
My mom
one of six daughters
a wild one not easily tricked
or oppressed
if she hears no she says what who and why
she makes noise when expected to be silent
the black sheep of the family
fire and fury in her veins
a rebel
ready to protect
Her beautiful voice
she can sing
I know because her
song beats in my memory
She can cook too
memorable french fries her grandchildren boast
fluffy mashed potatoes only a few granddaughters can replicate
Fried chicken not sure if this recipe was passed down
and the homemade tortillas mm mm good a necessity but a treat for us kids
so much more
but for me my mom gave me the gift of faith
My mom unique and my one only true Love.
With some Sauteed onions in a pan on some melted butter and olive oil
Throw in slices of button mushrooms, green pepper and zucchini according to your style
Some chopped garlic and cumin powder are the key constituents
Sprinkle some salt and some hot pepper flakes to tickle your taste buds
Open a can of organic black beans and give them a quick rinse
Adding it to the vegetable mix will fulfill a need of healthy protein
Top it up with some chopped spinach and stir the blend well
A scrumptious filling is ready for veggie enchiladas to be prepared
Bring out your favorite blend of cheeses and tomato salsa
Start building your tortillas while doing some fun salsa
Heat them up on both sides on a nicely heated, well oiled pan
Role each up by placing a little of all the above mentioned components near your hand
Arrange them on an oven-proof dish to cook in a preheated 375 degree oven
Top them up with some more salsa and cheese and bake for a quarter of an hour
Enjoy them when they are cool enough for you to devour
Hope you like the technique created by a vegetarian individual
07/22/2019
The merry widow’s marvelous mincemeat melody
Was gradually heard around three by the old oak tree
Honestly said Bert, the bumblebee, is this the Grand Prix?
Miraculously, there was a royal red revelry
A chickadee landed on the right knee of Diana Dee
Making her a friend in furious practicality
Old oak tree receded into the loving forest canopy
Forming a deliberate, desired universal solid symmetry
Would you like a chewy chickpea Lee asked widow and me.
I heard hyena-like laughter from Leroy, the red-butted monkey
Rolling them in warm tortillas is the chef’s secret recipe
Flamboyant frog huffed away, jingling her copper jewelry
The rest of us stared, which we do on Wednesdays, habitually
Being yourself and making no apology is the key said monkey
The faeries made themselves tinier, they were in fact now wee
Lovely monorhyme in progress, guessed my observant cousin Vee
I must agree said my boss, the pompous persnickety Mr. McGee
The rhymes are rather delightful, and frankly, there are plenty.
With an unprecedented shortage of basic supplies
People worldwide are learning to be wise.
Loo rolls, medicine and the safety mask.
Making do with what we already have is the new task.
I’ve seen diapers and bras used as new safety covers.
Drugs for malaria and stool softeners as miracle cures, are just a few among others.
Even the orange headed one is coming up with new treatment ideas.
The new scene for loo rolls is now our expired tortillas.
Slowly thawed or quickly nuked with the microwave oven
Soft and abundant and recently discovered is the new lovin.
It might not be charmin, but equally as soft on the tush.
Biodegradable and able to flush, no longer needed is the backyard bush.
Escaping grinding poverty
And violent crimes
You left scant existence
Holding your Dad's hand
In the middle of the night
Going on a long journey
Dreaming of a free land
Miles and miles you walked
Learning for the first time
Price of liberty is high
As you trekked along
More than thousand miles
Exhausted by heat and humidity
Hungry and thirsty you got
But you didn't mind
Marching for a cause
Approaching the border
Happily you sighed
When strangers fed you
Tortillas, beans, and rice
But things soon changed
As borders got closed
Even for asylum claims
Clueless of what that meant
You sought refuge
In your Dad's judgment
Finding a way in
Surrendering yourself
As they took Dad away
Without a hug or goodbye
Ignoring your cries
Being in detention now
Affection you longed for
Yet you carried on
Searching grown up faces
For any sign of Dad
As days and weeks passed
Till you lost your resolve
When two kids in custody died
Paying the ultimate price
And yielding to anguish
Relentlessly you cried
Unable to think or breathe
Wanting to scream loudly
But choking on your grief
No one has told you yet
Your father's whereabouts
As you wait and wait
Learning day by day
In the land of the free
What misery feels like
To a destitute child
December 31, 2018
Placed 3rd..Misery poetry contest by Edward Ibeh