Long Dicing Poems
Long Dicing Poems. Below are the most popular long Dicing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dicing poems by poem length and keyword.
Cossack Cowboys
Riding Llamas
That they dress
In pink pajamas
Teeny boppers
Blowing bubbles
Biker chicks
Causing trouble
Nuns in Habits
Punks in chains
One or two
Of the deranged
Rubbing Buddha belly
Cravers
And the band
Harvey Danger
David Bowie
Elton John
Both of them
With Spacesuits on
Vegetarians
Eating chicken
Love it fried
Finger licking
In a line to
Meet and greet Obama
Now I wish
I'd brought my Mama
On the T.V.
Slicing, Dicing
Infomercials
Are enlightening
Lindsey Lohan
There's more trouble
Send the Police
On the double
Michael Jackson
With his monkey
Chandelier
Swinging junkies
Bottle Rocket
Ridding crickets
Dolly Parton
Doing dishes
Tubs of Crisco
Set for wrestling
Bee Gees do be
Disco dancing
With Bruce Jenner
Wearing makeup
Dolly's kitchen
Filled with soap suds
Rubber band
Bumper babies
Call me odd
Don't call me crazy
Shooting stars
Carry Uzis
Washed up stars
Drink beer in Koozies
Donnie Osmond
Singing show tunes
As Marie blows
Animal balloons
Circus Barkers
And their Minions
Waylon left us
Shooter Jennings
Heidi Klum
Without makeup
To say the least
She looks a bit rough
American flags
As rainbow banners
Peal, scratch, and sniff
Talking bananas
Hookha smoking
Manatees
Oh yea...
and then there's me
These are just a few of the things that lean
On the lamp post of my dreams
If only I could be ElaineScisorsHands,
under tonight's half moon;
on the precise sec past midnight
I'd creep into deep shadows
and slice evil in two.
SLASH! SLASH!
Black cats and black rats and
even blindass black bats,
would go cross-eyed with terror
feeling the ominous... impending global doom.
I'd swing my long black cloak round myself and,
hop on its tail, and be swooped up by
the howling winds, setting me off on my aim.
SLASH! SLASAH!
I'd cut out chunks of infested flesh,
pluck out pink, rheumy eyes with
their bloody stringy bits-
slice up and stab all evil doers
in their deformed spineless-backs.
Once I've made full circle round this orbital globe-
chopping and dicing and splicing, I'd
swoop back into my dank hovel,
with my cloak pockets glug-full and,
long shiny serrated blades dripping
coagulated black blood. I'd reach for
my engraved crystal goblet and,
drip blood in ...PLOP! PLOP! SWIPE! SWIPE!
then wring my cloak tail of every gruesome drop.
Wholly satisfied, on this grave Halloween night,
I'd feed my dark side on the dark side of the moon.
* note my FB name was Elaine Petgrave
babies
aborted babies
couldn't breathe either
writhing about in saline seas
but not a peep from anybody
no riots-no burning cities
no angry mobs stomping (P.A.) avenue
dead babies never make for good news
no viewers-no ad revenue
dicing babies
harvesting body parts for profit
is dirty business
even for dirt bag clinics and politicians
millions of dead babies without graves
never given a name
not a peep from the drones or their royalty
peep-less in the chop city of Sea(battle)
peep-less in the big rotten apple
peep-less in Cali(horn)ia
no civil rights
for babies
millions of babies
saline babies
I can't breathe
babies
I wake up and scurry. It’s hurry and hurry!
First and foremost – take a pee!
Cosmetics applying while minutes are flying.
Check emails and put on the tea.
Pack a lunch for the day that I’ll take on my way
out the door as I go to my car.
I must not leave late or I’ll agitate
my boss, but my job’s a bit far.
In class I am facing sweet students. Time’s racing.
So much to accomplish by noon.
Lunch time, I’m still going. I watch the clock, knowing
of more things I need to do soon.
Grades I’ll be doing with errands ensuing.
I race to my car and head out.
To the bank or the store; to the post office or
some other place with no doubt.
Have I time for the gym? Gotta keep myself trim.
But my chores are all waiting for me.
Some jobs get put off. You better not scoff.
I attend to my poetry!
The dinner needs cooking; at TV I’m looking
while slicing and dicing, for I
enjoy my tv shows. I’m NOT missing those -
I can “listen” as through tasks I fly.
My kitchen I clean well. Perhaps one more email?
With my hubbie I’m all cozy when
at last I am sleeping. Then daylight comes creeping.
I wake and start over again!
Sept. 8, 2020
for William Kekaula's All in a Day Poetry Contest
225 words by Wordcounter.net
Pablo...according to me (Part 1a), read Part 1b to finish
Re Pablo Picasso printmaking exhibition at Bellagio Hotel's Fine Art Gallery.
(1) Left Profile of a Woman with Blue Hair
The lass you slay here rebukes your dogma while submitting to greater cause. I wonder if her soul preempted her locks in route to this blue oblivion.
(2) Woman with a Yellow Necklace
I don't blame you, I'd chase her too. The untamed lass -- part figurine, part conundrum, part hurricane -- who pried, cried and tried your fervor until committing to the menu and after-party.
(3) El Greco's Portrait of a Man with a Ruff
The patience you must have had, I never would. Slicing, dicing, razors slashing this debonair freak, and from the misery of linoleum too. Seems like you took 3rd Grade stencils, dipped them in the blood of barbarians, and chased it with a cocktail of speed, habanero grits and rancor. Well done.
(4) The Painter and His Easel
So it's me, watching you, watching this painter, watching and coloring the world in hope that someone is watching. Eye drops, anyone?
(5) Reclining Woman
If my wife looked like that on the sectional, maybe the dogs might behave, and I might get peace and quiet every once in a while.
(6) Head of a Woman Next to a Window
The pink streak grabs my gut, saying trace my face with grace, then maybe you tackle what I see, what l need. On that note, Windex ever?
..to be continued in Part 1b (because the Soup won't let me post it all here, ugh)...
(8/1/15)
I am addiction
I will stay with you; I will be your sin
Seething and screaming until you give in
I am addiction
I will leave you in tears
No warning, I'm yearning to strip you of years
I am addiction
I will take away your pride
I will follow you, I will swallow what's left inside
I am addiction
I will always take my toll
Inviting, Inticing I will rip at your soul
I am addiction
you'll never try me just one time
I will stay with you, spend each day with you, commit another crime
I am addiction
I will cut you; I am a metaphorical knife
Slicing you and dicing you, threatening your life
I am addiction
aren't I just fun?
Ripping you and stripping you; my destruction has just begun
This world of ours is not always a good place
behind closed doors so many terrible things occur.
Hidden from plain sight some suffer endless torture
by the very ones who should love them the most.
Terrible things done sometimes in loves name
horrific beatings handed out, just for the sake of control.
Murders committed simply because one person will not share
killing so no-one else can take their supposed loved one away.
Children living in fear beaten and starved flinching at loud voices
creeping round like little mice hoping praying they are not noticed.
Gangs that bully and terrorise neighbourhoods while selling drugs
slashing up rival gangs purely for more territory to increase their strangle hold
to continue their evil crimes. Young girls and boys sold into sexual slavery,
victims each and everyone and all for profit. War torn countries
full of horrendous abuse, dead and injured cast aside like trash.
Yet for each who deals out these horrible crimes once they were
different, once they were loved. Can all be explained away by the fact
that they were taught by those that reared them in these horrific circumstances?
Or is it true that some were born monsters who enjoy other's pain and grief?
Practicing their craft on helpless victims as they grow up pulling wings of birds
slicing and dicing up beloved pets. Always attacking the weak and helpless.
Plain bullies that carry out their crimes in secret afraid to face those of strength.
One never really knows what goes on behind those closed doors. Yet when a
victim finally snaps and turns the tables oft times they are the ones our systems
punish and lock away behind bars while their tormentor is left free to continue
their rampage. Who I ask is the beast? Mankind surely deserves this name not animals.
The bruises and burns
From her cooking and washing pots and pans
Her former hands, so dainty and soft
Have now become coarse and calloused
Scars from knives on her hands and her thighs
Cuts from slicing dicing and splicing
Several produce and foods to provide nourishment for you
Yet you disregard her efforts and don't appreciate her when due
Wives, daughters and sisters everywhere
We were always seen as the 'weaker sex'
But we rose and fought our best
To be admired and looked upon with respect.
We succeeded and made the world realise
That women aren't only knowledgable kitchen-wise
We have gifts talents, achievements and dreams
Which makes the world better more than. those can believe.
Happy Women's day to all my wonderful females
We are worth more than rubies and are as competent as the males
I'm proud of all of you for the battles you fought
Let your smile shine brightly like a beacon come forth.
Happy Women's Day
Your trademark omnivorous stunts
Glean clean what minute remnants
Menaced graces do sparingly yield;
And take back reliefs heavens field.
Inclement rob your ravenous fangs;
Mowing to naught crumbs of bread
That divine hand her children gives,
Thieving sure bits with slyest tread.
And so at this apt o'clock fine:
Twenty minutes short of nine,
Soon coming date of May 2022;
I deal you an irrevocable adieu.
And whenever your urgings goad,
In attempt to re-hook my psyche;
These sad goodbye lines I'll recite
And at once renew my full dislike.
Keep every penny you stole,
Without remorse own it all;
In vain would I seek it back
And further lose safest luck.
Pick me the single garden weed
Who wants to be a lovely flower
If allowed to grow and be empowered
By loves sweet lavender fragrance
Inhale and be under its spell
Pick me like the last little yellow hope
For a miracle in a medical emergency
The herbs and spices dicing denim dilemma
Calming your blood pressure naturally
Easing your pain giving you reprieve
Pick me like the holiest of white words
Sautés soothing serenade silver saints
Dissolving sin stirring soulful rainbows
Making mightier Mahogany men
Waking women divine feminine womb
Pick me to be or not to be
Like the God in you chooses
To walk beyond what is known
And surpass all understanding
Of teal time energy and space
I am depending on your ability to choose
Love over hate realness over fake
Compassion discarding contempt
I am you and also her and him and humanity
Pick me and love me fiercely