Long Dilly Poems
Long Dilly Poems. Below are the most popular long Dilly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dilly poems by poem length and keyword.
SHE SUM THANG LIKE JAMMA LAMMA
JAMMA LAMMA DEW1
she lovey dilly, doo- woop, samma lamma too!
she get gritty, grindin' getty-up ya'll know dat
she doo!
she get's jamma lamma, dop- do didhe too!
can't she wanna do, ever clever
ya'll know dat she do!
she get's down and gritty
grindin that fitty- sexy body too!
like the trophy she don't she real shiney
she's ah winner too!
she get's down, and jamma lamma
doop dew witty dew !
men day love her
she won night them
ya'll know what she do
she sip
he paid it
lamenated
swap numbers too
they meet getty
get down real gritty
he like what she do!
they get down jamma lamma
down to samppa
she get down jamma lamma too!
soo down jamma lamma
down to samppa
taste the that taste good too
she like down jamma lamma
to up dat jamma lamma
she get down didgo too!
Then my heart with pleasure fills and dances with the daffodils.
—-William Wordsworth
DILLY-DILLY DAFFODILS
Dilly-dilly daffodils in a lady’s tress,
Sailing as she throws off distress.
Blithesome in shades of yellow and blue,
The yellow-buttercups a felicitous crew.
Dancing fair maiden-esprit, free
Of worry, no anxiety, Swinging gloriously —
A merry-go-round, dizzying sashay.
O how these pretty ladies brighten the day.
Dilly-dilly daffodils splashing everywhere,
Xanthous snow-shower of motherly care.
Warms the rainbow of hearts, rocks
Deep-dark dungeon despair into goldy-locks.
Slays the Winter dragon, breath-stifling depress.
Parades open-air confidence and playfulness.
Dilly-O-Delightful daffodils trumpet applaud,
bowing and curtsying — a faerie squad.
Dandelions look on with jealousy, turn white,
blow far, far away, leaving a lantern-light
of palace gardens, star chandeliers, riverdale,
green goblet-meadows, a sunshiny-fairytale.
3/12/2021
*For Caren Krutsinger*
Each book in my library must be read, each one, each and every one,
vagrant, homeless papers must find a forever home, I must
edit, amend, revise, reword and condense a poem-
Rattled, I search for my keys, oh collywobbles!
Yearning for tranquility instead of this constant dither and tizzy, and
daunting days of jitters, willies, shivers and heebie-jeebies,
and my heart in a knot of anxiety!
Yes, I have days of cliffhanging moments!
Inside my soul, I just want to dilly-dally,
silent, I want to make each day count, but
apprehension and anticipation always keep me on tenderhooks.
Consternation, worry and anxiety, creep, creeping, and
like an unsettled butterfly, I flutter befuddled.
Inside my soul, I just want to lollygag!
Fearful, I face each new day undaunted, taking
first one step, then another and on and on and on . . .
hoping my distress is unseen and undetected.
And I step off the cliff that is my life each morning, oh
no one can escape some anxious days, of
go here, go there, get this and get that, oh collywobbles!
Edit, amend, revise, reword, and condense a poem, but really,
really I love my crazy, hectic, unpredictable, anxious life!
__________________________
February 24, 2017 (re-post)
Poetry/Acrostic/Everyday Is A Cliffhanger
Copyright Protected, ID 17-1217-135-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted into the contest, Strand Select 12
sponsor, Brian Strand
Honorable Mention
Laws of Physics and Humanity #1 First Law (Inertia) Sponsor Dilly Dally 1-14-25 Objects at rest stay at res unless acted upon by an outside force.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Humanity
The gravity of inertia,
Jealous force,
Weighs down the heart
Paralyzed in fools' gold -
Grounded in resistant exhaustion
With flightless wings.
The weight of pressure
On dreams
Discourages footsteps
From optimism –
Ambitions petrified,
Abandoned in the grip
Of paralytic obsession,
Vacillates in stares
At the blank canvass of comatose,
Numb with indifference
To change.
Hope flees
Unable to step right or left,
North or south,
Up or down,
Chained in detachment
By relentless conflict,
With universal ambivalence.
Yet,
Bound by these stoic bonds
The soul still dreams,
Reaches to dazed stars
Pointing north,
Waiting release by the humanity
Of the Prime Mover
In perpetual motion.
Written: October 22, 2023 For Dilly Dally Tritina Contest
_________________________________________
Blooms swell akin to cynosure elixir
Emollient radiance scattering fragrance
Evanescent breeze enlivens a dreary day
Furtive forbearance fearing a fresh day
Swiftly lifted the hold of nostalgia with elixir
Felicity flavor fraught fugacity by elysian fragrance
Halcyon ease exudes of this gossamer fragrance
My mindset is primed to tackle another day
Seraglio lissome lagniappe mellifluous elixir
Elixir fragrance has sanctified my esoteric day
shadowed pupils stoking and swelling
skin draping bone like a loose tablecloth
flailing in the wind under the moon-lit sky
you sit at the kitchen table with me
clutching something tightly behind your back
it’s a knitted zebra hat
you know i love zebras so much
i still do
you probably don’t remember that day
it’s all i can think of right now
you lean your head back to look at me
our favorite song is playing
you tell me you love me just the way i am
over the bruno mars song on the radio
how about now?
do you still love me when i can’t move
when i can’t even cry
do you even like me anymore?
dad asked me why i never smile anymore
last january
i didn’t know what to say
i want to hug you so badly
everytime i’m sad, i think of it
but i never did
now i’m too late
the night sky bleeds into the horizon
a breeze runs through my limpid body
the coldest feeling pierces my heart
and drives itself deep within
i shut my eyes but they won’t close
i want to be happy for you
i miss when i could be that way for you
i want to be your dilly bird again
i wish i could make you smile
it’s been so long
and you’ve been so tired
of me
well i’m finally going to sleep
My Lost Legacy
At the land’s end I stand, like my ancestors of Indus-Valley
Looking for my lost legacy, while the tri-sea emitted in hue
Dishes once prepared for celestial wedding but poured in adieu
Into its mouth, as sand, shells and beads, in repeated dilly-dally.
At the land’s end I stand, like rishi Agastya, who captured
Whole River in his rage, once stood here on mission to level
Peninsula Bharat as world converged for Siva’s marital revel
In Himalayas; if crow marooned his rage, row my riches ruptured.
At the land’s end I stand, like Parasurama who in a sober mood
Once wielded his axe pushing Arabian Sea to make a land, lush
With peppers, heating even snake Vasuki to vomit in holy blush;
If paternal command made his matricide, fratricide pursued our feud.
At the land’s end I stand where once stood Ramakrisna’s disciple
After stirring conscience of world in Chicago; beyond here was held
Assembly of great litterateurs ere the second was in temple city held;
If ocean immersed my land and literature, emotion forged our typal.
At the land’s end I stand still, as hands of time forever pull sun
From eastern bay in its zeal of morn, only to push it down western
Sea sealing day on its rolling wheel; legacy once to powers western
I lost; I seek once again, striving with vigor tirelessly like the sun.
I almost dare not to tell you a story this silly,
This crazy, this weird, this hilarious absolute willy.
But I have to do it, for my darling friend Big Tillie.
She is gone now, in heaven, fixing her chili.
Big Tillie was a simple woman, married to Hilly.
It gets worse. His full name was Hilly Billy McGilly.
So, when they got married she became truly silly,
Mrs. Hilly McGilly, a bonafide hillbilly.
This story started out pretty sweet for this filly.
She met him in a diner when she was fixing her chili.
He came in all sassy, and soon turned upright blue-silly.
For his heart did palpitations when he caught sight of Tillie.
She was petite back in the old days, small, a real dilly.
And she carried herself like a proud mountain filly.
Hilly McGilly was smitten at her looks before he tasted her chili.
To which she had added tomatoes and onions and a white tiger lily.
They got married in Arkansas, a good place for those McGillies.
And they lived a sweet life, her making him all kind of chili’s.
They had sixteen little children, all named McGilly.
And they lived and they laughed, bringing in all kinds of silly.
At the funeral of Big generous ninety-six-year-old Tilly McGilly
There were rumors that a secret would be given and it would be a dilly.
So they came from as far away as Queenstown, those fond-of-her hillbillies.
And they were glad, as recipes were handed out for ten of her favorite chili’s.
While I dillydally in my spring garden
I smell the lavender before noticing the buds
Dusk in a symphony of lavender hues
Summer can wait; so can my coronation
Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly,
Lavender's green
When you are King, dilly dilly,
I shall be Queen
Who told you so, dilly dilly,
Who told you so?
'Twas my own heart, dilly dilly,
That told me so
I pick a sprig to put into my pillowcase
To sleep, per chance to dream
A chance to see you again
Healthy, vital
My childhood friend and confidant … my king
The man I fell in love with
Before Life intervened
My thoughts melt into the lingering dusk …
(a collaboration with Dilly Dally, great fun, thank you)
Lost as the night wraps its ebony shades
round red lips like the petals on roses unfurled;
in the mist, the soft crimson of beckoning smiles
leave me hopeless to shun a temptation like this.
Watching eyes in the dark now hang in the air,
mouths smothered in silence, are untouched and alone
~ through the fog, mute impressions choke a voice that was mine
before sliding to sleep in a vulnerable dream...
In the air, like the scent, of a fresh blooming rose
drifts the musk, like a bee to the pollen I'm drawn,
so...in willing surrender, I contentedly fall,
though beware of the thorns and the danger they pose.
Wide awake in my dream
the night lingers ~ trapped in place,
'til I once again fall and surrender my will
~ restless dreams, tangled thoughts,
stems stinging with fears.
What sweet peril we chase
through the gardens of dreams,
drowning in tears for what might have been
left forgotten and pressed in the pages of time...