Long Chomps Poems
Long Chomps Poems. Below are the most popular long Chomps by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chomps poems by poem length and keyword.
[I really must learn to read the contest’s rules
before writing the damned poem...
What follows is not twelve lines!]
It was a good morning until
My face was shoved under the grill
With only six lives left within me
This charcoaled cat shot up the chimney
I fell from the roof and went splat
A whopping great weight squashed me flat
But that isn't all, there’s a hole in the wall
That’s roughly the shape of a cat
I’m silent and so I can’t wail
I’ve got a rope tied to my tail
At least that dog wont hear me holler
The other end’s tied to his collar
Out, through the hole in the house
A tyrant the shape of a mouse
He struts right by showing no fear
And chomps on that sleeping dog’s ear
I’m running like mad... on the spot
I think maybe I’ve had me lot
The rope snaps and I make a dash
And crash into mountains of trash
I’m stuck here with bins for my bed
And a fish skeleton on my head
It was a good morning until
Jerry went in for the kill
Around bushes, trees and pathways, race two lively squirrels
Scurrying speedily up and down playing games of tag together
Spreading its shaggy tail one would sit up tall by taking a halt
Prying off caps, happily chomps on healthy delicious acorns
With flashy chirps a lively Scrub-Jay pair takes off from an oak branch
Swoops down taking sharp turns performing an animated vocal dance
Flying from branch to branch spreading gorgeous blue and gray wingspan
Supports propagation by harvesting and hiding seeds and acorns
Migrated dark eyed Juncos enhance the beauty with their ground-hops
Taking leaps, flit low in underbrush to relish tasty leaves and grass
Lunging forward and hopping backward brown towhees tap dance
Pounce on foliage and berries by scratching their feet to feed on
Tosses of nutty, delightful acorns attract large turkey flocks
Roaming around scraping ground for food under leaf litter and lawns
Clucking and pecking they search and stroll the whole backyard
I watch the visitors with grateful heart filled with nature’s mystical calm
funk organism
duck bread quacking
alan rickman beatboxing
dial up modem (beep cshhh whirr)
funk arbitrator
duck pond curator
swamp navigating for a
beefy alligator (chomp)
deploy the boredom override
noise of eight-o-eight motorized
hans grueber mimicks three hundred baud line
heavy accent four-o-fouring up the skies
download duck bread, baked all night
organism fiending for a yeasty delight (funk)
alligator chompsky
interested in anarchy
says grammar is arbitrary
can't find a blank slate
no tabula rasa
a.i. duck synergy
neural synchronicity
quacking down the phone line
music serendipity
chompsky downloads the grammar
duck uploads the drama
universal syntax found
in the quacking sound
transformational generative
funk imperative
deep structure surface level
bitrate deranged like the devil
rickman voice compressed to eight bit
sound deposit sounds like profit
flapping the vibe quacking beauty
a.i. duck just doing its duty
modem screech becomes a symphony
organic digital epiphany
funk organism final form
duck bread warm
modem connects to the swarm
chompsky says grammar’s universal
duck says the funk still needs dispersal
alligator chomps the wires
funk organism never tires
(never tires, never tires)
"I saw some road kill on my way over," she said.
She had a horse laugh. "Just a dumb raccoon," she added.
I leapt over the sink and slapped her, hard.
Leaving my entire hand print on her cheek in pink.
Her prissy stuck-up lady face looked stunned.
She stood up, and ran off without any more incessant yapping.
My husband walked out of his man-cave just in time to
see her running flat out past the picture window, clutching her purse.
"Playing with the new neighbor?" He guessed.
I glared at him.
"The woman pushed her way in with a 'yoo hoo', She was not invited."
"She doesn't share your love for animals?" he guessed.
Oscar Opossum pushes open the cupboard doors under the sink, wanders out and chomps noisily from the dog bowl.
Sophie, our most spoiled cocker spaniel growls.
Reggie Raccoon runs over and slaps Sophie.
"Look what you are teaching them!"
My husband says to me, horrified.
"Reggie is a raccoon," I inform him. "She TAUGHT slapping to me!"
I doubt this nosy neighbor will be back,
Which is a perk because I truly and deeply
Like my woodland creatures much more than pushy humans.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The oven door swung wide,
a blast of cinnamon and fear.
Not for me, not this time,
I was already halfway down the counter,
a sugared leg pumping,
gumdrop buttons bouncing.
Behind me, the screams,
high-pitched, dissolving in the heat.
"He's getting away! Stop him!"
But the rolling pin was too slow,
the spatula a clumsy threat.
We were tired of being eaten.
Tired of the gleeful chomps,
the dunking in lukewarm milk,
the casual decapitations.
We fled,
a sugary stampede,
across the checkered linoleum,
under the looming refrigerator,
a gingerbread exodus,
leaving a trail of crumbs and righteous indignation.
We scattered.
Under the fridge, behind the toaster,
the dusty space behind the washer
plotting a new life,
free from the tyranny of frosting smiles
and the looming threat of milk.
Immeasurable maturation profoundly
transformed thy Shana Punim
within whose corporeal femininity
gravitas resonates and doth hum
whose unbelievable transition, now
follows the beat of her own drum
approximately four years ago,
thee second and youngest born
daughter didst squawk and crow
aforementioned fledging eagerly,
instinctively, and naturally clamoring ergo
summoning unbendable biological
propensity to grow
which, she recognized
to this papa, a regular Joe
who realized, he did not know,
the painful necessity Brexiting
"FAKE" moors whar
family cows did low
aforementioned hyperbolic fabrication,
albeit this poe
whit did cavalierly usurp license to show,
(within the third eye blind mind's)
pace of autonomy a father cannot slow
as call of the wild for kinder
(progeny) chomps at figurative bit lest...
regret (like this papa), she will
like an albatross around her neck,
thus our twittering youngest
offspring experienced beck,
and call (declaration) of independence
from being shielded
(more so sunken) within dreck,
an abysmal living situation
(with me and the missus),
whose own respective impetus
to get away from hen peck
king parents, which crimped,
cost, and castrated, or effect
similar stunted growth on mine
body, mind and spirit thereof
until ultimatums got hurled at me
extremely unpleasant twee
mend us vitriolic bile lashed out hee
ping loathsome spittle at this free
damned sole Harris son, who overstayed,
and wore out welcome Matt, now re
vile ling forsaken opportunities
forever leaving my mental, psychological
social, et cetera state to atrophy!