Long Bump on a log Poems
Long Bump on a log Poems. Below are the most popular long Bump on a log by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bump on a log poems by poem length and keyword.
Gypsy winds, wind their way
across deserts and plains;
whip the tumbleweeds and
sands into a frenzy.
Nomad scorpions roam dunes alone,
burrowing deep, to escape
a tempestuous sirocco.
In lonely places cacti sentinels
stand vigilant day and night;
the magic within them, untapped by humans.
Only a few know the secrets of desolate places;
fewer still, those of their own backyard.
Observation, in its purest form, is a rare practice;
most people live on the Earth, not in it.
Participate in life and it will broaden the mind.
Expand your knowledge, with the senses and insight;
wisdom is bestowed, as a reward.
A bump on a log, never gives, but stagnates.
The winds of change, reveal secrets to the open ear;
listen carefully, to those gypsy winds.
Do you remember before computers
We actually spoke with each other
We cared whenever our kids got sick
And knew the address of our mother
Today we sit at our laptops all day
Surrounded by dirty old dishes
Wearing clothes from two weeks ago
Smelling like a kettle of fishes
What is this crazy old world coming to
Lost sight of the things that matter
Like how many kids we had at last count
Or that we're thirty pound fatter!
We sit like a proverbial bump on a log
Our words incoherent and slurred
All kinds of animals are running about
Your pet cat just ate your pet bird
Maybe one day in a decade of two
They'll discover what once was a human
Propped in front of an ancient computer
In his ears petunias will be bloomin'
Those who love life, put up your hands
Now let me see, hey you in the back
Don't just sit there like a bump on a log
You're either with us or against us, mac!
You gotta grab life by the proverbial horns
And wrestle it down to the ground
Gotta stomp on it and show it who's boss
Ain't nothing gonna push you around!
Now that's the stuff, I'm hearing you roar
Like you're catching the spirit now
Let's all go out and celebrate life
Let's romp through the fields with the cows!
Okay, maybe that's a bit much for you
But I think you're catching my meaning
Think positive always look on the bright side
Even though your bod may be leaning!
Those who love life, put up your hands
Don't be shy, it's an honour to know you
Together we can show all those naysayers
We'll chase away those nasty blues!
My dearest, Poe, how doth I findeth thee,
By now 'tis be of common knowledge.
By the morrow the whole of Colchester will
hear of it--it'll be no privy matter, I'm sure.
And, um, well, ah ... Oh speak up man, 'tis
too early for the cat to be out. Oh, ah, does
she know? Who? Your sister, Lenore? Yes!
Does she know about her? Oh, of course.
Well, having known my sister to have
snagged a 'booby' like you. What do you
mean by that? You know, the straight-
laced sorts. Oh, my, by the way ... are
you expecting company? Is she coming
here, now? No wonder The Pub is abuzz.
No, she's not coming. Well, don't be too
liberal with the phrase. I hope you and
the town, mind your business. Well, if it
was any other girl, Poe, but fortune did
favor you, my friend. The girl, after all,
does have a 'reputation.' And from what
I've heard quite a stellar resume. Oh my
dear, dear Poe. Why are you being oh, so,
repetitious? Ohh! Poe, you're such a cad!
Speaking of the devil. Oh, I'm so glad to
be here--for she does dress rather risque
and [A BIG GRIN] um ... my dearest Poe,
what frightful manners ... have you lost
them forevermore. Apologies. Oh no my
dear, 'tis naught you at all, for you do look
marvelously decorative. I'm Jerry, Poe's
brother-in-law--oh? Oh don't worry, my
sister and I, don't talk much. Oh, that's
rather obtuse, don't you think ... not if it's
the truth. Besides, Lenore should be the
least at fault, for that lies with me as it's
just natural for me to be a bump on a log
somewhere. I'm still playing with straws
here, Poe, intro please, she knows who I
am. Ah, Yes, Jerry, my buddy, may I have
this distinguishable opportunity to honor
you with the marvelously decorative woman
whose name is ... You can call me, Godiva.
[TWO VERY BIG GRINS]
Do you remember before computers
We actually spoke with each other
We cared whenever our kids got sick
And knew the address of our mother
Today we sit at our laptops all day
Surrounded by dirty old dishes
Wearing clothes from a two weeks ago
Smelling like a kettle of fishes
What is this crazy old world coming to
Lost sight of the things that matter
Like how many kids we had at last count
Or that we're thirty pound fatter!
We sit like a proverbial bump on a log
Our words incoherent and slurred
All kinds of animals are running about
Your pet cat just ate your pet bird
Maybe one day in a decade of two
They'll discover what once was a human
Propped in front of an ancient computer
In his ears, petunias will be bloomin'
Do you remember before computers
We actually spoke with each other
We cared whenever our kids got sick
And knew the address of our mother
Today we sit at our laptops all day
Surrounded by dirty old dishes
Wearing clothes from a two weeks ago
Smelling like a kettle of fishes
What is this crazy old world coming to
Lost sight of the things that matter
Like how many kids we had at last count
Or that we're thirty pound fatter!
We sit like a proverbial bump on a log
Our words incoherent and slurred
All kinds of animals are running about
Your pet cat just ate your pet bird
Maybe one day in a decade of two
They'll discover what once was a human
Propped in front of an ancient computer
In his ears petunias will be bloomin'
© Jack Ellison 2012
(Lily, Lada and Pema, 2025)
In The Morning
In the morning I sit
Coffee cup in hand
Dogs nestled in on either side
Feeling like a bump on a log
With no desire to do anything
To disturb the peace of the moment.
Inside my thoughts are a gentle cascade
All the dream images of the night before
Like pieces of several different puzzles
Jumbled all together in the same box
Not needing to be sorted
As much as simply settled.
The dogs around me have no such issues
Each of them sound asleep
Each of them a soporific engine of their own
Casting a wide net of calm and comfort
In a world where everything is always
Just one day of moments at a time.
(8/18/25)
Just me and mine shadow doth blog
passivity, the path of least resistance oh my dog,
an emphatic YES,
a legitimately valid reason and rhyme to flog
yours truly (figurative emasculation),
thee catchword to hog
immediate attention,
see above named poem title
the best idea to expound upon,
while attempting creative juices to jog
all mein kampf, I felt like a bump on a log
please... don't be hesitant
to identify me as a nog
one aging long haired pencil neck geek
never reached maturity forever a pollywog.
More clearly, plainly and succinctly
one sniveling poor excuse for masculinity,
I continually experience
unrepentant (unforgivable) humility,
hence lame justification
Matthew Scott sought adultery,
which unwise choice attempted
(pun intended) to fill a void
sexual propensity linkedin with precepts
attributed to Sigmund Freud,
though skepticism skirts
barenaked lady hardcore psychoanalysis
downplayed or Oedipus complex
shrugged off (heavier imposition
versus Atlas) fails to bridge any mettle alloyed
within me psyche.
Absent healthy teenage
dating experiences, think tryst
I yearned, trended then
regretted handy dandy wrist
took rat tick antics subsequently,
and compromised spawning prurient dalliances,
hence understandably missed
(until death do me part)
doting upon then young daughters,
rightfully thee eldest one
(born 12/22/1996) still pissed
at primal, gonadal, and brutal predilections
now... finding very little reason to exist
matter of fact I dreamt
(earlier today June twenty seventh
two thousand and twenty), the gist
regarding harming self
I was hoping for just a caress or maybe a stroke
but all I got was noises, smoke, and restless rebuff
I was wishing for a tree hugger who would
place their arms around me and love me
but all I got was misaligned baseballs and tramples
My limbs expand far and wide
and my roots are deep, part of everything down under
still they walk around as if I don't even exist
as if I'm just a stump, standing there like a bump on a log
I get moonstruck at night by the beauty of the sky
and warmed by the sun when the dawn arrives at will
I rejoice at the sound of a child's laughter,
or when someone takes a nap beneath my full branches.
I am a tree who loves people, creatures and things,
even a misaligned baseballs, better that then nothing at all.
Let me tell you a story….
About a year loving pet named big red,
I still can’t believe he’s dead.
He was such a wonderful dog,
He wasn’t a bump on a log.
He was my protector and friend,
My love for him will never end.
Everyone in the neighborhood,
adored him too, he was good.
I cried when he got hit by a car,
his passing left a gigantic scar.
Dad buried him and in our backyard,
everyone in the family took it hard.
He wasn’t just a pet, he was my brother,
we had the same father and mother.
I will always cherish him in my heart,
for he my heart right from the start.
04/16/2022