Long Dipping Poems
Long Dipping Poems. Below are the most popular long Dipping by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dipping poems by poem length and keyword.
“Consider ‘Life is but a dream’ (Lewis Carroll), and then consider Heaven and Hell as everlasting realities. A blink mortality would be - if my thinking is right. So why muck things up being a horrible person to those who will remember you when you have passed away?” (by this poem's author)
Dear memories of those I keep
forever stored inside my mind
are like a well with water deep
where recollections I can find.
By dipping deep, I can retrieve
dear memories of those I keep.
For loved ones gone I need not grieve.
I know God’s blessings they now reap.
It’s I – alive – who is asleep
and dreaming far from Heaven’s shore.
Dear memories are those I keep
of those who soon I’ll see once more.
Strong, kind and loving I must be
though paths I take be sometimes steep.
May my descendants say of ME:
Dear memories are those I keep.
Come have some delicious guano dip the new neighbor said.
Inviting us to her lavish table, outside by the shed.
We were reluctant knowing what guano is.
Fluffy green dip was set up by chips and pop fizz.
It’s guacamole dip! With relief I said.
Neighbor grinned. Let’s get your family fed!
My snooty children would not try it because they thought…
I was bat and seabird excrement as they ought.
It’s delicious! I said, dipping my chip in so thick.
“MOM!” Said my daughter with disdain. “You really are sick!”
Their preconceived notions closed them up to the notion.
Of devouring this wonderful dip on this day by the ocean.
Ah, I said, as I munched terrific salty chips by the sea.
They can be prissy. There is more guacamole dip for me!
Releasing my Lavender kite, as I try
To coax it up into a Tangerine sky
The Coral reel in my hands doing cartwheels fly
As a Chartreuse breeze carries it in a blink
Across ripples on robes Saffron of a sage
Soaring above Aquamarine shores of waves
Changing to Lilac in lights dipping charade
Diving towards a Crimson sunlight it braves
A kite in Lemon bobbing, joining with fun
Rising now, a Watermelon moon
My little kite struck with its beauty, fully swoon
I quickly reel my kite in as moments fly
A kite I proudly take home with me tonight
And hang it on my trophy wall in moonlight
To soar another day, adventures in light
6.4.2021
Contest: Changing Colors
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Syllables: Eleven per line
Bare feet find the leaves
before the eyes claim the trees—
dawn knows its place here.
its wingbeats spring from branches
humming to stir the still air.
A bell from nowhere
criss-crosses the foggy dell.
cows lift their slow heads.
The gate lies open halfway
yet no one passes through.
At the meander,
a child dips bare hands in shade.
ripples tilt the reeds.
sky slips between small fingers,
borrowing water's blue hue.
In the market crush,
oranges ooze citrus zest.
a woman coughs once.
all the stalls lean towards her
spilling spice, dust and sunlight.
An old man pauses
where weeds have cracked the pavement.
rain gathers in pools.
he grabs at his suit coat sleeve
as if greeting someone there.
Under chapel eaves
swallows stitch the afternoon.
wax melts into bowls.
A moth circles the altar—
where no flame admits to call.
By the empty pier
salt dries white on sleeping nets.
the tide has gone out.
a shiny bead drops from hand,
splats on dried seaweed.
In the dank garden,
leaves reveal their undersides.
someone shuts a book.
the scent of rain arrives first
to find glass panes streaming tears.
Mists lift from the pond
a heron stands where reeds part—
a flash of silver;
water, wing, and rippling rings—
the eye cannot keep them all.
Last train has long gone.
A station clock ticks alone
on the waiting bench.
someone folds their train ticket
into a paper airplane
Dawn on empty fields.
dew hangs from a spider's web,
gone seconds later.
the spider missed the quiver
of footsteps bound for elsewhere.
Dipping into swim,
coolness finds my wrist at first.
waves slap at my face.
ripples echo on the bank
saying they arrived here first.
Leaving the water,
I watch where eddies linger.
their shapes reforming,
the stones beneath the surface,
revealing, hiding, being.
I savor silence and my solitary dreams, my wanderings
and in my candlelit room, I withdraw
to my secret place and you
I have put on our wedding dance music
and I am travelling back, back in time with a sigh
I know what comes next and I want to weep with love
my dress is a cloud of red chiffon flowing, flowing
and you my darling, are in a black suit
soft the jazz music drifting in my meditation
did I put that music on or did it just come to me
you whisper in my ear, I love you, and I turn the page
back, back, I turn back the pages
we swirl onto the dance floor, twirling and dipping perfectly
and the red chiffon is beauty
kiss me my darling your whisper or is that the music
your strong arms hold me tightly, oh I remember
and we are spinning, spinning, spinning
then the music is loud like thunder, roaring
and you are fading
our hands slipping
then our fingertips
and still we are spinning
until you are gone and I am alone
yet the music goes on and on
and in my candlelit room, I take a deep breath . . .
__________________________________
February 5, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/'My Dress Was a Cloud of Red'
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1329-476-05
All Rights Reserved, 2016, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, All Yours (Feb 14)
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 02/16/2021
First Place
we witness in dismay
the fall of many a sage
preying on those yet weak
when the false falls away
why then do they love upstage
taking money from those who seek
the path is clear as day
silence in mind-body cage
prevents needless energy leak
let conscience have a final say
that we err not on this world stage
for earth will be inherited by the meek
in monk mode making earth life play
as we turn a new page we come of age
soul dipping in soma nectar its eager beak
love and light in heart is the way
forgiving one and all, taking no umbrage
vibrant, blissful, dancing with love cheek to cheek
Let’s go skiing ! Said my wife
It gives you such a thrill
So off we flew to Canada
To face the bitter chill
We took a bus from Calgary
To Banff’s National park
Found our hotel, went to bed
To get up with the lark
I brought a bright red jacket
My mate Stuart let me borrow
I thought at least I’ll look the part
When I hit the slopes tomorrow….
In the bright blue morning
I went to hire some skis
And boots that felt like concrete
I could hardly bend my knees
The minibus dropped us off
By a mud stained snowy drift
My wife said “ I’ll get the passes”
Just go meet me by the lift “
A group of red faced skiers
Were gathering in a throng
To sit on a revolving seat
That didn’t stop to let you on.
“I cannot get on that” I said
As I stared in disbelief
With slats of wood upon my feet
I knew I’d come to grief
“Come on Mike” my dear wife said,
You’ll be fine once you get on
So I stood as was directed
Then “whoosh” and I was gone
Hands gripped round the safety bar
As we rocked on metal ropes
Thinking “how will I get off this thing
When we reach the nursery slopes ? “
The chair in front began to slow
I heard their bar go “clunk”
They deftly skied away with ease
While I prepared to flunk
I ejected from my seat
To a ramp of icy snow
I soon was sliding on my back
With both legs akimbo.
Sailing down the green runs
My instructor in a strop
Kept telling me to slow down
But I didn’t know how to stop
I saw some awesome sights
I learnt the “pizza” wedge
I heard a muffled scream
When a friend slid of the edge
I lasted just three days
Till we skied toward lake Louise
I handed in my ski poles
When I couldn’t feel my knees
Time to sample “Apres Ski”
In my warm, hotel retreat
Dipping bread in fondue
Was much more up my street
While My wife “carved the powder”
Meandering with such skill,
I rubbed ointment on my kneecaps
And took a pain reducing pill.
I would not trade these memories
I will treasure them for life
I am not built to be a skier
But thank you my dear wife !
From base of spine to medulla
And then rising up to vibrant crown
Dipping down to glistening single eye
Over front enlivening throat and heart
Before grazing navel and sacral centres
The magnetic energy loop splits us vertically
As the higher aspect of self propels body form
Positioned along the spinal column, hence hidden
And so we thus literally witness in-form consciousness
Moment to moment, all moments in flow of time entwined
Our soul transmutation thus assimilated, known to us alone
As our bliss drenched presence breathes gently in equanimity
24-December-2022
Put on his red bathers you're joking
Too tight something out front it was poking
found another old pair
to cover up pubic hair
He's now off to the ocean for soaking
Now he's looking quite bronze and quite fancy
Ready to meet his girlfriend who's called Nancy
on the sand they will walk
hold hands while they talk
One day she might be his fiancee
Find a spot that's private and shady
to skinny dip with his beautiful lady
several others have come
they see his lily white bum
His girl's given surname it's O'grady
From ocean water body's cool, appetisingly salty
Sun burnt skin's feeling sore and quite faulty
He wants to bonk on the shore
She says no that's for sure
He says your excuse is unloving and paltry
His ex girlfriends name was Cecelia
Too often he wanted to feel her
with legs very bandy
he was often so randy
In the sun in in the hay made love to this sheila
Now this oversexed man so begotten
So naughty they smacked his big bottom
but he wasn't deterred
still did what he preferred
Loved underwear made out of soft cotton
Now it's summer he's feeling quite warm
Many old tricks he does often perform
out in his work shed
there's a double sized bed
Where they shed all the clothes that are worn
It's now time for a warm summer party
Can attend it's casual not arty farty
still daylight at nine
have a whopping good time
Good conversation and laughter that's hearty
By Michael Liguori and Robert Liguori
Dagwood Bumstead
Probably has been in the company of broccoli
We know that he and Blondie like to Eat
Tarzan most likely has been in the company of broccoli
Especially in the Jungle, everything grows there
Batman and Robin eat on the down low, they have probably seen a little cold broccoli when fighting Mr. Freeze
the cast of Archie Bunker often eats on the show
Do they love broccoli?
I do not know
Ask Meathead when you see him
I want to know who reading this adores broccoli
You can eat broccoli, so many different ways,
Broccoli likes to float in cheddar cheese soup it seems
Has anyone ever put barbecue sauce on broccoli?
How about deep fried breaded broccoli
Then dipping it in a bowl of barbecue sauce
Wouldn’t that be fantastic?
And so healthy!
I have on occasion eaten barbecue ribs
Made for me by the local Asian market place
Delicious
Is a barbecue rib the same thing as breaded deep fried broccoli covered in barbecue sauce?
No, I don’t think so
Because I just invented breaded, deep-fried, barbecue broccoli
Wow, doesn’t that read as deliciousness !?!
?