Best Soggy Poems
the newspaper knocks
dew covered grass soaks my socks
exiting my box
Had a dream last night, you could say it was wet
Fell headlong in a pool while playing the clarinet
Kept playing underwater
Received much applausers
Got out, and in my pocket was some soggy cigarettes
© Jack Ellison 2015
It was easy to see who had the most eyes
Attached to her chest so abundantly sized
In this contest
She had the best
She quite easily garnered the... booby prize
Note: please click on soup's "auto punctuate" feature if you feel so moved;-)
early Saturday morning
I wake up to
coffee brewing and
cartoons blaring
making my way into the kitchen
I hear Looney Toons
from the living room
and the shower running
I quietly enter the bathroom
smiling and undressing
to surprise you
pulling back the shower curtain
with the Technicolor duckies
I find our son in
full snorkeling gear
desperately trying to sink
an entire box of Cheerios
embarrassed
I grab my robe and
head to the living room
to find you laughing
through your Cocoa Puffs at
the hilarity ensuing on TV
after a quick good morning kiss
I lick the dribbled milk
from your goatee
and head to the kitchen for
that much needed coffee
before my first sip
our son emerges from his adventure
covered in soggy
rings of victory
the rain is tapping the window tap tap taapp
the rain pating the roof pat pat ppaatt
like a gazillion violins violas & cellos
our very own orchestra,for free.
by,ehlana lingerfelt
The upright straight road is clear
That may seems strait long road to the blind mind
The soggy soul wants to stay in the cool shadow
To eat and fart! Having pipe dream to win back!
To have a good time, I see I see me.
unceasing, unstoppable
a force of nature, this rain
the sun no sooner pops out
here come the clouds and my hopes are dashed again
wretched, muddy, soggy trails
far too slippery to hike
a day that I regretted
winter’s constant rain is what I most dislike
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An Endecha, in quatrains of 7x:7a:7x:11a, intended to be a lament or a "sad song that locks up a moan"
there is no breathing allowed
i am now dead
she is now gone
familiarity is now a pungent puke provider
there are no heartbeats allowed
i am now dead
she is now gone
normalcy is now a free bleeder on some bright carpet
there is no life allowed
i am now dead
she is now gone
change is now the cum stains that smells like left field cigarette smoke
His pants were quite dry when he got 'em
His classmates just laughed when they caught him
A wet widening stain
And it sure wasn't rain
Now it's way too easy to spot him
The sun rises on the distant horizon
Sending rays through gray clouds
Tinging them to a somber cobalt
Waiting to shine red and proud
The sound waves vibrate from crickets
As they rub their hind legs
They have double-fold in numbers
Spread like whisky bootleg_
The fog drapes its long tenacles
Across the hill and vale
It coats all the trees, shrubs, and homes
Spreads across like bride's veil
Dampness penetrates every nook
Reaches within crevices
Notebook pages become soggy
Wet with fog's devices
When I was fifteen I had a soggy heart
“Paint what it feels like”
So I painted my heart, dripping in sorrow
The cheap acrylic paint left their printer paper as soggy as the heart I had made
I’m twenty now, and the poeticism has vanished
I don’t feel melancholy
I feel like sh*t
The seas today were not a short, sharp chop
but were syrupy soggy soft like black treacle,
clinging to the hull like on a spoon, clutching and sticky.
Warily I sailed on, aware of the tenuous tug
and drag of deception in the compliant welcoming.
I, as an alien in the wetness of sea,
knew that the warm softness of the seas's clutch and cuddle
may belie a hidden tumult,
a change of face
on the whim
of a mere breath
of wind.
Sometimes back, I used to be...
A role without a model, a student without success,
Where “sounds great” was a phrase I struggled to express.
But sometimes back, I used to be...
A star in my childhood memory,
Chasing dreams without courage, not quite brave, not quite free.
Sometimes back, I used to be...
Lovable, tangled with awkward unity,
Where harmonious smiles lifted joy but often fell short,
A happiness fractured, reduced without retort.
Still, I marvel at the mystery of who I was.
Yes, sometimes back, I used to be.
I wish I could still touch that bewildered wonder,
Moments full of magic, like silent lightning, quiet thunder.
Yet my mind insists I'm not bewitched,
Just a soul that’s changed, somehow switched.
I don't know why I've started feeling outmoded.
As if someone overcompensated for joy stolen away,
Taking with them my victorious smile, bright as day.
Sometimes back, I used to be...
Dreaming often of solitude, a world all my own,
Where tears left my cheeks soggy, but it didn’t matter,
Because in that place, I felt a hope unshattered.
Yes, sometimes back, I used to be—
A spirit wild and free, untamed by time,
Longing still for the echo of that past life’s rhyme.
'Cause sometimes back I used to be...
Don't you just hate soggy bread
It falls apart in your hand
I should just use toast instead
I think you all understand
It stands up to mayo better
The crunch it makes sounds so nice
Until of course it gets wetter
Then you might need another slice
newspaper is wet
front porch scattered with wet leaves
water marked windows