Long Zippers Poems
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Las Vegas, Reno, the Hoover Dam, the casinos, the resale shops!
Screech.....they have resale shops in Vegas? Only the best in the world.
They are filled with rhinestone boots, hats, bras, handkerchiefs, zippers.
I know this because I have spent years in these shops –not consecutively
My daughter lived in Reno for seven years, so we used to travel there.
Reno was reputed to be a little Vegas. I think there are three casinos there.
So if you want action, head to the real deal – Las Vegas, here you come.
The city that never sleeps! I used to live out there.
It shuts down four hours a day.
The only time the strip is dead is 3:00 a.m. to 7:00 a.m., I kid you not.
The rest of the time you can dress like a celebrity, wear sparkly clothes,
Wear miniskirts, and blue hair, and tattoos up and down your legs.
No one will even look at you though because everyone else is doing it too.
The gift shops in Vegas are filled with the most gorgeous items in the world.
The casinos are bells, whistles, shows, lights, cameras, actions.
You feel like you are in Hollywood, but this is better.
When you run out of money which is day two, go see the Hoover Dam.
A bright light engulfs the room
and suddenly disappears
ushering a blazing essence
that abruptly evolves in the atmosphere,
buttons unlatched
zippers break loose
shirts collapses over skirts
flesh dancing in flesh
flesh devouring flesh
and impatient breath
whispering soft words in her ears.
Electrified
mesmerized
enraptured
emotions bathing in emotion
exotic moment intoxicated with fear.
listen carefully and tell me what you hear?
sounds thundering beyond steep mountains
doors hammering speechless voices
debris flying high in the air,
but they lie there firing on without fear.
Lights grow dim
and a mysterious sound chime in.
Pum Pum Pum
It must be the voice of an angel
walking up and down his gigantic chest,
kindling a soft fire that rips aimlessly through their ears.
It captivates their emotion
and enflame their burning passion.
dancing and prancing
skipping and dipping
sliding and gliding
they went to the extreme.
Eyes fixed in a steadfast motion
calculating the mysterious sound
chest pressing against chest
chest pounding upon chest
spilling tears of joy all over her face.
©2013 Christine Phillips
Slipping on tinkles ain't easy my boy
When zippers get stuck it can be a pain
The thing that I hold once gave me such joy
Now it's just leaky and leaves a round stain
Golden years my **** that's a silly name
Now it's really dangerous to go to bed
I tell you that stuff is a young man's game
She laughs quite loudly "you can't raise the dead!"
A little fast rubbing might do the trick
Perhaps if she tries, it will be worth while
I'm not opposed to a lollipop lick
Three small inches might grow into a mile
Everything worked but then my back went out
What she thought was joy was a painful shout
Disclaimer: No old people were hurt in the writing of this piece. It is also not meant to offend any "Sexy Senior Citizens". Keep limber my friends!!!
I wear the stars like a vintage jacket—zippers of bold contradictions. One day, I’m a storm; the next, I’m a rainbow with a cigarette. My laugh? It’s a brushstroke across canvas, full of sarcasm and a splash of love. I know the constellations of me, and when I speak—it’s a rock concert tangled with a philosophy class. I don’t fit any box—I burned the box, lit a candle, and read tarot on its ashes. Every page I turn is my next brushfire of originality. I breathe in the irony of life and exhale an artful smirk. Every step I take, I leave footprints of both sass and sincerity. I’m a walking contradiction, glitter and grit. I know what Saturn’s return means and I dare it to try me. I’ll dance under the moon, debate under the sun, and when the day’s done, I’ll still be fabulously, mercurially, uniquely me.
Driving through a small mining town
Angle parking in front of an old drug store
Memories flashed back to my childhood
Those days are gone forever more
Sitting on a stool at the soda counter
Large cherry coke for a dime
The place had its own kind of smell
A memory lost in time
Hamburger was more than worth the price
With a toasted bun and an onion slice
A metal Coca Cola ad hanging on the wall
For a nickel you could buy a red sponge ball
Fountain soda tasted mighty good
Floor was clean and it was made of wood
Get a prescription filled and something to eat
An ice cream soda was a special treat
They had Squirrel Nut Zippers and Mary Janes
Red hot dollars and candy canes
Good n' Plenty and crackerjacks
Magazines and paperbacks
Baseball cards came with gum inside
The owner flew our flag with pride
I looked to the sky and heard myself say
Lord, I'd trade all I own for yesterday.
My wallet is a good friend of mine.
It was a bifold one when I purchased it. (but now...many folds developed)
Once it used to be brown and elegant
But gradually metamorphosed and faded.
Now it looks older than I am.
It has acquired many new attributes.
Frayed at the edges, broken stitching,
Failed zippers and worn-out leather
Of course, they add antique look to it.
I have forgotten exactly when I bought it.
But I always keep it with me when I go out.
I have my own sentiments about it.
It has witnessed ups and downs in my life.
It’s an ardent follower of Shakespeare’s advice,
“Neither a borrower nor a lender be.”
Thank God! It hasn’t ever gone empty.
My pretty lady is very intelligent
When she finds my wallet with chubby cheeks,
She presents her list of interests and wants.
The young guys never bother about wallets.
With e-payments they manage at the outlets.
When I take my old companion out to pay the charges,
My kids make fun of him and say, ‘A rich man in rags.’
My wallet - My loving companion!
Angela, Andy, Amber, angels, ambience, attitudes, altitude, all-purpose flour.
Beds, breakfast, brightness, brevity, butter pecan ice cream, bald eagles.
Cali, Carolyn, Chelsea, creativity, compassion, craftiness, cleverness.
Dick, Daisy, Dwight, Deborah, dare devils, delightful deeds, designs.
Emily, Elise, enthusiasm, excitement, eggs, empathy, eagerness.
Faith, fortitude, friends, family, faeries frolicking, frying.
God, generosity of others, gladness, geese, gulps, gargoyles.
Helen, helpful heartfelt friends, hands, hearts, hearing, Heaven.
Ingenuity, imagination, idealism, individuals, illustrations, imps.
Joe, Josh, Jack, Josie, Johnny, Jerome, joyfulness, juice, jubilation.
Kindnesses, kin, kinesthetic learners, kings, ketchup, keys, karats.
Lucille, Lucy, Lou, Linda, Listening, light, likeability, love, limberness.
Molly, Max, Marianne, merrymaking, music, messes, minxes, mini-coopers.
Nests, near misses, nuts, nerds, needles, Never-never-land, nuthatch.
Ostentatiousness, Om, orange, oil, oatmeal, orange juice, organdy,
Purple, pink, plaids, paisleys, prettiness, plumes, peacocks, porcupines.
Quiet, quickening, quail, queens, qualms, quizzes, quotes,
Rita, Ruby, responsibility, respect, regards, religion, remembrances
Susie, Susan, Sophie, seriousness, sensuality, sex, sizzling steaks
Tracy, Tony, TV, Tennessee, twins, troops, twisters,
United States, understanding, umbrellas, udders,
Venus, variety, variegated yarn, vim, vigor
Weddings, wind, watermelon, wheels, wonderfulness,
X x’citement, ‘xtra niceness, ‘xaggeration for poetry
Youthful attitude, young people, yellow yaks
Zany friends, zealots, zeal, zest, zippers, zebras
Written 7-16-2020
Contest: Abcedarian
Sponsor: Beata Agustin
Pray for us St. Mushroom of the Holy Sin
Keep our fingers free from sticky things
And safe from anxiety of the open hole
In the middle of the doughnut where it belongs
Deliver us twelve of them but spare the sugar tax
Sin grows in the dark so wickedly delicious
Bury us not without nutritional consideration
Or restrictions on our caloric intake please
Measure not our waistline figures without end
Have mercy on them
Bless us and deliver us from zippers
St. Peyote see fit to stitch our buttons tight
Teach us how to open the safe without explosives
To steal the contents and escape without notice
With shirts intact, fastened from top to bottom
Lost buttons are frowned upon downtown
Deliver us not into high fashion or traffic stops
Let not our mothers dress us funny after we grow up
St. Peyote, trust in us to feed the puppy only pizza
Without mushrooms. Leave them to us
On vacations you tend to gain weight,
Finding luscious, rich foods on your plate.
Add to that, extra drinks,
Plus desserts and methinks
Many people with this can relate.
And, though meals were a source of delight,
Coming home, all your clothing feels tight.
Buttons pop, seams may rip,
Zippers struggle to zip
Since you couldn’t resist one more bite.
Yet if somehow you’ve given a ride
To a sickness like Covid inside,
You’ll feel woozy and spent
And, though not your intent,
You’ll discover your appetite’s died.
So the upside to being infirm,
Which, experience lets me confirm,
Is that nothing remains
Of the pounds someone gains
On vacation, all thanks to a germ!
Tailor had a circuit, he arrived three times a year to sew us up
He used to have a cat, a fish, a dog, a wife and a pup
The wife got tired of the traveling and took the pets to settle down
She was fed up with the hassle of always moving town to town.
Tailor loved his life, and did not much miss his wife.
She had been a harpy, grousing most of their married life.
But he did miss the dog and the cat, and especially the fish.
To get a new pet was his fervent wish.
Tailor brought along his sewing machine, materials, zippers and such.
The people in my town liked him more than a little, actually, very much.
We took up a collection and bought him an orangutan to travel with.
He made him a three-piece suit, and named him Little Kith.