Long Bulky Poems
Long Bulky Poems. Below are the most popular long Bulky by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bulky poems by poem length and keyword.
One day it's Doctor Seuss.
Now it is a goose
who took to the back of a bulky brown moose.
It was said the goose had a bald head
of an eagle who is exceptionally regal.
The goose rode the moose until they came upon a pond
this is were the goose envisioned she belonged.
When the goose saw the inhabitance of the pond
by an exquisite white elegant swan
she decided that they'd be moving on.
The goose and moose then kept a looking
for a place that wasn't tooken.
Then along came a gander
who did not pander
that lead the goose's heart astray.
The goose and moose then stumbled upon
a vacant barn, in it a cage,
one where all the chickens once laid.
The goose took to the stoop
and climbed up to roost.
Once she got settled
she made a nest
out of grass found in the meadow.
She laid eggs, making it a dozen
that is all she had in her oven.
For several weeks she heard not a peep
the eggs seemed sound asleep.
One day, it happened!
the eggs began a hatching!
and the nest was full of action!.
She took her twelve goslings
across the meadow
where the sheep had settled.
Then up the street
to a water filled creek.
Where they swam all the day long.
while joyfully honking out this song
we've found were we belong.
The arched bulky branches of the banyan
In delight swaying caressed by the breeze
The dry leaves drop below in the canyon
The wind keeps looking wildly for the keys
The golden dewdrops on a leafless twig
They glisten and swing fast in morning air
Suddenly strikes a gust of wind quite big
Robbed of dew drops the twig trembles in fear
A neighbour comes and says the poor woman
Run over by a car last night expired
I looked at the dry branch of the banyan
A lonely cage sobs on, all dew drops sheared
We of course love to travel by blue train
Unaware of the black coat that pulls chain
___________________________________
18/10/2016
For the contest: Words Drowned In Tears
Sponsored by Broken Wings
Here I stand as cool as the wind, heavenly rain drops, my lord showers me with his mist. hail
proceeds, mother natures nurturing hand turns to a fist.
Nearby,
an aspen, short and bulky sways with her current, dancing to a wind song.
A dramatic sequence occurs, raindrops beat the pavement acting as drums. Wind songs
sound of tambourine and the aspen sings her melody, each leaf its own entity.
All with a different tone,
She smells like lilac perfume....
Is she a she?
Or is she a he?
A natural figure, a figment of ones own preference. Mother nature represents the world .
From the cirrus and strattus clouds, to a picture perfect sunset. Mountains that span high into
a distant horizon, or the weeping willow whose inspirational position gives beauty its
definition....
.....2009.....JP
I feel like I am in a love/hate relationship with my body
I am a grieving mom, having lost my son a year ago
and I found 22 pounds, which makes me feel icky!
None of my clothes fit and I am getting ready to start
a new job-which is a very good thing for me!
Part of grieving that I have discovered about myself,
I will focus on the negative more often,
which is a big change from my optimist personality.
This may be my new norm, but I hope not.
Dark thoughts have been visiting since my son left,
thoughts that I would rather be in heaven than on earth.
However, God has been close by my side and showed me
that I needed help for this and stayed by my side while I got it!
So, I have been trying new things with my diet and exercise,
and my poetry has been such an amazing way to express my
grieving journey and all the life hiccups that pop up along the way.
I am still overweight though,and am trying to love my body again.
Even with the extra weight. I have been doing yoga, walking,
and moving again and I am buying bigger clothes since I am changing
jobs and can’t wear weight hiding scrubs as often.
So, loving yourself is a journey, but you need to find acceptance for
where you are at every level. I am loving my poetry writing, healthy
eating, and exercising self more than the bulky overweight self,
but I am indeed working on it. I am also loving that I am a child of
God and he is with me in EVERYTHING, and is cheering me on with
my new healthy focus and starting my new job.
Clusters of refugee bubbles
Expelled from the side of my tank
Rise expanding in upward travels
Escaped depths, burst at surface
Forging against their vigour
Persuasive stream broken
by my bulky silver body
Interrupting incoming ongoing
Enthusiastic thousands
Spurts of filter flung hum
Tickle my sheer cycling fins
Tell me to nose dive again
Breaking trails of oxygen globes
Until Billy Bully Salmon slices in
Languid flicks follow frantic fro
Gyrating spotty specimen vie
Lunch pellet plops induce swished thrashing
Tumult on top flung untimed as ocean fury
Gaping lips capable of feeding incidentally
Cylindrical home groans, crowded by peers
Graduates from Tank Eight are due soon
To meet with intention, purpose imposed
Sight of orange net scooping candidates
Occasions mayhem, frenzied to catch bus
I surge with the fastest, fattest prime
For my place in net destiny
Overexposed oxygen exhausts me
Begins cressendo to deliver my bounty
Dry eyed tribute to nurtured practice honed
My splatting undulations
boast industry success
Cod calls me to lemon rained plate haven
Farmed fellows raised by deliberation
Egg nursery, microscopic sluge whirls
Infuse infant entire crew with dedication
To feed, to fulfil, crisp silver skin served
If you think eating me equals ocean depletion
You'll be pleased to imbibe controlled science
Take it from me, fat salmon, Raymond
I am desperate to get in your gut!
My reason for existence is to be ravished
Don't reject majestic fish - re-examine
The pearly peach flesh down throat glide
Indulge charitable fridge wrapped salmon
Lilian invited us to her recital
she was a quintessential tomboy
We could not imagine her in a skirt
Or as a dancer
We attended anyway, for she was our friend.
We had always seen her in bulky sweats.
We had no idea she was light on her feet
or that she could look girly.
The prima donna was a whirlwind of activity
she looked like a bonfire, popping in oranges and yellows
Glitzy sparks appeared to leap from her tulle skirt.
We were mesmerized, was that Lilian?
She held us captive with her beauty.
We would never see her as a lumpy tomboy again.
Now that we had seen her as a dancer.
She was exquisite, the quintessential ballerina!
There’s a global inflation problem
everywhere lungs are puffed up
heads are swollen.
Balloons increase in volume overnight.
The cost of rubber bands
has been stretched to its limits.
We recall sadly the heady days of deflation,
when shrinkage gave us more space
to spread, to drink our fill
of a less bloated air.
Politicians and pronouns
are loudly popping
empty suits and Stetson hats
billow and blow more than we can
know.
We see the mushrooming clouds
of bluster and bluff from afar.
The world pumps on way too hard
continents expand beyond their land.
The sky busts out of its high wide window.
Soon we shall see
how it will be before the big bang
as we escalate into fat flatulent globs
and awfully slow, bulky, bouncing blimps.
Last night a great heaviness
fell through the roof
dropping like a boat anchor into my dreaming mind.
It was sentient,
a being as hard as steel and massively stupid.
I felt its dumb confusion, its awkward alarm,
I winced as it lumbered around my head-space
crashing into my own startled thoughts
though I realized on some level of awareness
that I was still living in a bad dream.
The brutishly bulky being wanted answers,
I wanted answers, the dream had no answers.
Eventually that solid hulking creature gave up
turning my inner-state over and smashing
my neuronal workings over its big stony head.
Oblivion took us both.
When daylight unveiled the long night
I looked about me
the bedroom was not ransacked
but my brain was blinking on ‘check engine’ light,
and something was still asleep
on the backseat of my mind.
Tonight I will take a strong drink and 2 Ambien
incase its guttural snoring, or its chaotic dreams
wakes me up again.
Ice Sleep Quickly...
Slowly counting backwards from one hundred
if restless, yet most every night/early morning,
when tiredness defeats ability to remain alert
though rarely these days no difficulty to dream
way before mentally mouthing the number zero,
a segue way into unconscious state disengages
awareness, nor does yours truly recount numb
burr, nor REM member upon awakening hours
later how far from first triple digit to nought, I
ceased noiselessly iterated theoretical string of
symbols (representing whole sum quantity), the
likes linkedin to the Hindu-Arabic numeral cyst-
stem attributed to two Indian mathematicians awk
credited with developing mode to abstract former
lee bird den some assignation expressing a short
shorthand to conveniently represent a numerical
value, honor belongs to Aryabhata of Kushuma-
pura developed the place-value notation in the
fifth century, and about one hundred years later
Brahmagupta introduced important symbol for
zero, without such (now obvious) methodology,
this nocturnal primate, would most likely resort
to awkward, bulky, clumsy, et cetera alternative,
sans Roman numerals silently with eyelids shut
tight, thus imagine if ye will this sir soundlessly
enunciating c, xcix, xcviii...praying to dog never
reaching the lowest solitary i, cuz this mister, he
would never be accountable waking bolt upright
resembling a zombie emitting nought a peep, cuz
this suddenly duped frenzied hotmail, would have
zero choice!
(This is a "childhood" poem, written many years ago.)
High above the pristine falls
the looming mountain lifts its walls.
A monolith of stony gray,
with bulky lips, it seems to say:
"Eons passed since I've been here;
nothing have I seen to fear
while above my walls, from year to year,
about the world below I peer.
My walls so high, so steep and strong,
protect me well from all that's wrong.
Would that Man below could see
how I keep all harm from me.
Would that he could build a wall
about his home, his family -- all --
to keep them safe from Evil's charm,
which causes Man unending harm."