Best Woosh Poems
A vacuum cleaner should glide
And relief from messes provide
It is quite unlike
Harley Davidson's bike
Where the dirtbag's on the outside
Author's note: Someone told me this vapid joke at work today, so I framed it as above--enjoy!
To lover,my soul
opens inward so much pain
woosh clean
Shared, now free
not lost,understood,woosh
broken bits and tears
flow, woosh did not burn
the man,the past, no more fear.
I was I am still
To The North Pole Of Course (Part Two)
The farmlands, bridges and countrysides woosh by in a rush
then vanish before my eyes at a hundred and twenty six miles per hour.
My mind is traveling at the speed of Donner and Blitzen. It goes through a magical hourglass only to nestle inside a cinnamon scented wagon that is infused with the clanking of fine china cups. A peppery scent of hot chocolate perfumes the air and lands on my palate, sweetly.
While I am being ushered forth into Christmas, I sift through time, backpedaling swifter than Santa's mistletoe kiss.
I hear his rippling laughter and melt like butter.
My extra sensory perception picks up the echoes through the halls of my memory
and I say to myself, " I think I'm going home, to the North Pole of course."
"Tap! Tap!" the drop
of Her tears.
Pouring on the
ground from the
clouds of fear.
'Roar! Roar!" Her
thunderous shout.
From the pain She
felt, She cried out.
"Woosh! Woosh!" She
breathed fast.
"Why my love?" She
asked.
How poor Mother
Earth was.
Tortured by her
children, She sent
Haiyan to us.
She lay on a black velvet bed,
With black roses engulfing her face,
That face so pale as moonlight, her lips red,
A mirage she is, waiting for his embrace,
So silent, a shadow, he enters the chamber,
With silent whispers, so sweet and so deep,
He walks up to her bed, his form grim and sombre,
Caressing her head says he “sleep my love, sleep”.
She raises her head and asks him to dance,
His wonder too strong; he takes off his cape,
And harpsichords play a moonlight romance,
Intertwined they dance as the moon shifts shape
His lust and her lust about to reveal,
In a tight embrace with him she shall stay,
Her virgin body and her mortal life he steals,
Changed and cold she is, forever such to stay.
Mortal she is not, he can hear her newborn heart,
Now when he is of her kind, death can’t tear them apart,
Two black shadows woosh into the night, ready for their feast,
She is his countess, and he her lover, the beauty and the beast.
THE WOLF’S LULLABY
It's midnight,
The wind could care less about skin that shout "I'm to weak for burning freeze".
It's still passing by with the dark rain clouds in the sky.
Woosh!,
It knows my mind's destination,
Home.
I'm craving for the savoring smell of chicken and macaroni and cheese,
I make a long leap to my feet,
Before walking,
I look around.
I know,
I'm in a place where men hunt for meat,
And I can already smell the nature broken air of gun powder,
And i can hear the muted screams of the late night hour.
But my ears can't be silent like it's surroundings,
At least one has to boom!
Blocking out the crying crickets,
Singing loudly to the moon,
Black mist blinds my eyes from creeps of the dark night,
They're known for lurking for the late working,
Sitting inside of unloved homes where the odor of burned clothes and tall grass
lingers through dark alleys of broken glass and molded liquor.
Where memories sleep.
And I have watch my feet.
Every step is a quiet one.
I can't let them know I'm out here,
Alone.
All is Silent,
Woosh,
Boom,
Woosh, woosh, woosh.
It all happens again,
and
Again.
smoke
drink
don't think
woosh
cruise
keep drinking booze
blurry light flash
bash
crash
sober
no more hangover
went to far over
could i live
live infecting innocent lives
washing away hopes and dreams
how can i be looked up to
how can i be a father
knowing i killed my own daughter
car wreckes are the #1 cause of deaths
25% of those are drunk drivers please be
safe and save a life
trees sway to and fro
the woosh of seasonal change
brazen moods of fall
the chase is on as
falling leaves migrate to earth
leaf piles my fortress
I
one Fine-
morning when the garden was misty-
ethereal the beauty
birds mellifluous
brouhaha loud and donnybrook
a gang came
fluttering over the fence and
canoodled the flowers
sweetly
when the day was infinite serenity
the birds
lilting and murmuring
loud and donnybrook
and buzzingbees were buzzing
from jewel-toned and eye-catching blooms
oh
summer
and
the
sun-kissed
color-infused birdies
loud
and
donnybrook
II
here there
sweet butterflies
breathtaking
gamboling
delicate wings
always a-fluttering
insects
dilly-dally flip-flopping
hummingbirds whirling
a black cat licks
his lips
whiskers twitching
sneaky shifty
lissome fearless hunter
sneak-a-sneak
slithers
woosh watch out hummingbirdie
with your pretty wings
fly away fast
faster and faster
for the cat is a hunter
the cat hunts
the cat
quiet and deadly
go
dancing
hummingbird
hummingbird
turning
twirling
spinning
III
raven hair-tangled girl
gathering daisies
pansies
wildflowers
And drip-dropping petunias
in this sun-drenched garden
stops to gongoozle
and a butterfly drifts-
upon the gathered-blooms
________________________
August 15, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/Garden Rambling
Copyright Protected, ID 16-818-665-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
i sit and i stare up there into the night
hoplessly awaiting your arrival
to sweep me off my feet and woosh me away
somewhere over the sunset lies love ever after
wrinkled pages of old time lovers
drift aimlessly amongst the ocean waves
in a bottle capped many of years ago
a written promise between two lovers
marital bliss sealed in a kiss
making love under the stars
counting every shooting one
paralized with infatuation
dreaming of a world that welcomes change
where diversity is more than a word
victory united we become strong
holding hands and skipping rocks
melting marshmellows on the fire
charcoal becoming ash
getting high on orgasams
drunk on euphoria
moments treasured forever
moonlight captures her beauty
silence fills the midnight air
peace and serenity steal the show
desperation calls for a plan
mapping out a destination
recalling this time in our future
saying goodbye is what we fear
forgetting we were ever here
lonliness scares us forever
Beachfront condos shrouded in the early mist
of morning. Seagulls hanging on the breeze,
their screeching waking sleepyheads
before their coffee, it's July the 4th,
the holiday is here!
Sailboats daubed in milky opalescence
growing clear, as sunlight nibbles at the sea wall.
Artists set their easels, hot dog vendors
primed and waiting, T-shirt boutiques
ready for the avalanche.
Parking-lots are full, it's getting hot now.
Suntanned beauties modeling string bikinis
scramble for position.
"Let's get the best spot on the beach!"
they cry, toting towels and frisbees to the sand.
Flags and beer are peddled in profusion,
smells of barbecue and pizza fill the air.
Suntan oil for those who need it,
all those fair-skinned redheads seeking
rest and refuge from the blazing sun.
Painters competing for the famed Grand Prize,
trying to catch the essence of the ocean.
Could be the next Monet! Muted pastels
smeared on canvas. Hold on, Claude,
you'd best not give up your day job!
Para-gliders soar in gay abandon,
floating through the sky like eagles hovering
they lay it on the line. You ask me,
it's sheer recklessness,
all those crazy people cheating gravity!
Musicians making ready for the concert,
violins and tubas tuning up.
People find their beach chairs
and get comfortable to listen
to the melodies of vintage Broadway songs.
And then the fireworks - woosh, boom, crackle! -
shock the heavens with their iridescent light.
'The Star-Spangled Banner.' Couples cuddle
up in blankets to watch the rockets
paint the sky 'Red, White and Blue!'
They make their way contented to their cars,
young and old alike loved the festivities.
Stop to get some Rolaids, (too much pizza,
fun and frolic!) but the day will last forever
in their memories.
Smell of fresh horse dung on the breeze,
Not far away, just north of here,
Keep walking on the rocky ground ,
No panic, yet no fear,
Palm island Prison, I escaped,
Swam ashore, I nearly died,
Saw the fins of noahs arks, (sharks)
Dog paddling, still so tired,
Black tracker follows me,
I see him in my mind,
Jacky sticks like glue, does he,
My tracks are pretty hard to find,
The Traps they come, at walking pace,
Tracker picks the way,
Up or down the river ,
Might cost em half a day,
Eat a few mussel clams,
found under the waters edge,
just a creeping through the water,
doubled back under a ledge,
Traps they hurry away to the west ,
follow them, I might find,
And now I’m tracking Jacky ,
I think the buggers blind,
So the Traps get tired of looking,
My track just can’t be found,
So they return to the coast,
say they think I’m drowned,
So I walked inland four hundred miles,
Went home to live in the bush,
Lived off the land, Goanna and Sheep,
In the land of the wait awhile.
lovely Crayfish that I keep,
In my home land I do sleep,
me Boomerang goes woosh,
no need for me to bloody rush,
wild duck will have me fed.
Don Johnson
Dedicated to Bill Hopkins who did just that....know as hoppy...
I wake up at five each morning, I hear cock a doodle doo
my stomach’s gurgling but I won’t eat until I'm through;
as the horses need feeding on hay and crunchy carrot,
and I must give cuttlefish to Polly our screeching parrot
Pink piglets slurp as they suck milk from the sow,
The young calves are all mooing at Daisy the cow
Pitter patter raindrops fall, perhaps I will get wet
when I take my yelping pup to be neutered by the vet
I climb onto the tractor, the cold engine splutters as it starts,
alas I hear the woosh from the sheepdog as he farts.
Tim always travels with me to bark at all the sheep -
rounding up the bleating lambs, he truly earns his keep
Water gurgles in the gully as the tractor speeds along,
and the dawn chorus chirrups, I adore their morning song.
In the meadow bees are buzzing on the autumn breeze,
Ah ah ah atishoo, the golden pollen made me sneeze
When I’ve done my chores , bacon rashers sizzle in the pan,
Bess the cat purrs loudly as I open her ‘Whiskas’ can,
Then we’ll snuggle up in front of the crackling log fire,
soon I will be snoring, as forty winks I now require.
Onomatopoeia Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
10/23/21
Snick-woosh, rushing stream
Clink, gurgle, doppler shift
Glub then tinkle, drip drip
Crystal scrape metallic
A plastic click, pause, muffled hiss
Gurgle, snort, chuckle, snuff
Plink… Plink plink… Drizzle, drip, drizzle, drop
Coffee is brewing
Dry rustle, crinkle, pages on wood
Chock, thwock, slap, a paper stack
A throaty zip, heavy, dry, leather
Shunk, shunk, economy of motion
A sharper zip, bdruuup, fin!
Schwop, clack-slither-clink,
A full brief set down
Heavy drag, porcelain vs. wood
Clink-clunk, crystal tink
A throaty gurgle, barely heard
Sh-nick (minor tinkle), schwoop, Sh-nick (minor tickle), swoop,
plastic scrape-pop, glub, quiet though, like a heavy drop
scrape-slink-swish, doppler pi
The brew is stirred
A sharp slurp, a quiet sigh
Murmurs, growing, muffled by door
A grunt, more felt than heard
Heavy cup, counter thunk, slop-plop spilled a drop
Woosh, shunk, clunk, rustle fabric
Deep wood grunts, tile is silent
Recess is over
Slither metal, muffled chulunk, woosh of air
BURST wave of voice, fabric rushing, movement!
Heavy wood, creak, ever-so-soft snick of oiled metal
The voices drop, whispered now, a whisper roar
Murmured greeting, wush of skin on skin
Creak, thunk, metallic pling-plong-sprong
Seats are taken
One final creek, sprong-pling-pong
Rubber whuph, carpet snuff, softly leather protests
Deep tenor, no tremor, mellow-stop, mellow-stop
Measured cadences, carry up and settle, up and settle
Now heavy, deeper, rhythmic, damning
A kettle drum of point by point, rolling, inevitable
Move to acquit