Long Dither Poems
Long Dither Poems. Below are the most popular long Dither by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dither poems by poem length and keyword.
I will weep when you whither.
Soft, purple petals dried to ash in august sun,
Sweet nectar plucked away before I can smell your honey.
Before I can taste your grace,
Hold you to my face and pour my love into your cup like affirmations
Do I hold you close to my chest as you die?
Or turn away, I dither,
Are you worth it? A life so lost, a life just begin.
My sweet alyssum,
You grow through the cracks of a rocky shore.
His sweet relief,
Soft leaves coat sharp edges of what was once a chore,
My sweet alyssum,
The smell of ocean’s on the air.
His sweet relief,
Will he let you go, or will he tend and care?
Gentle hands scrape at earth
They spread soil, catch light
Yet despite their care each year you die.
My hands are not gentle,
They break roots, sever stems.
Would I only hurt more if I dared to try?
My sweet alyssum
So new in a garden, perennial and right.
Could you bloom again
If we somehow learned how to catch light?
Smiles of roses in our garden wither,
As the wings of our love mid-air dither,
Our songs are sung without their melody,
We live our lives in black and white,
Our love's colours stolen by the rainbow,
With our cloudy skies missing the stars' glow,
Rather our lean cheeks bear the pool of tears,
Enough to form two times the Pacific.
Though the petals of our roses are dry,
Our favours are like showers from the sky,
So our love can bloom like roses again,
Our hearts are the loam for love's tender roots.
Let's wait for the rain showers once again,
For bees to dance on roses in the rain,
And our hearts shall swim in love's flooding brook,
So as to bring back joy to our garden.
OUR LOVE
Silver Moon in charcoal night
Dreamy heart to dance delight.
I move on your move.
So clear, not to prove.
You are my wonderful world
that shines, glows as emerald.
Blood in flood drinks desire
Fast heart beats shiver severe.
Emotion craves clinging in arms.
Passion oozes in your charms.
My ardent ardor to dither
flows, flees, vacillates in ether.
Deep love sinks and dips
gets sealed on pressed lips.
Moon winks, stars smile above.
Zephyr too enjoys our love.
Scarlet rose I will offer
Come close, if you prefer.
I breathe on your breath
and will, till my death.
09/20/19
Second Place
' Any Poem You Write With Exact 100 Words ' Contest by Caren Krutsinger.
the Virus from Hell is amused
the Virus from Hell is amused
laughing at the world’s panicked reaction
as it marches through the world unabated
infecting everyone in its wake
as the world awaits its fate
the virus smiles he ain’t no fake
he is the real deal
he is death itself
he is the end of the world
the grim reaper is smiling
god is silent as usual
and the virus is the world’s worst nightmare
the world’s leaders dither and dather
as the economy craters
everyone hoping that God will save them
the virus does not care
insults and orders do not work
the virus simply does its virus thing
infecting everyone it encounters
and thousands will die
equal opportunity offender
killing the rich and the poor alike
the virus smiles
the virus's work is done
and mankind is doomed
so be it the virus thinks
that is the way of the world
and the virus is the new king
of the world
Written: April 1st, 2025 for contest sponsored by Brian Strand
********************
esoteric lines are etched
with antique ink
as wise men dither to think
euphoria blazes
as fresh perspectives bear flight
If wisdom tracks the dimming light
a solitary ember remains:
the elixir of life.
Unbreakable, this soul and I —
like a lake's unique fingerprint
inked to the ocean
striving for the stars to blaze
we will never falter;
heaven is a resplendent elysium
on this solid ground;
when thunder is the only sound
seraphic hosts remain unaware —
unsure of how to serenade me
Poetry transcends the words I penned
and verses left unspoken, unpenned
I cradled her heart as a cherished secret
too precious to reveal to the world
she embodies the essence
of the poem I aspire to write in my life
she adorned herself with my words
akin to celestial orbs
gently luminous, faintly shimmering —
crimson, cyan, citrine, spectrum, magenta —
a map leading to the starry nights
from which she emerged
unscathed from the storm
I draped summer
over her wintry sky
and portrayed love
over her hate and hoaxes
imagining tomorrow
over the anguish of yesterday
and when invited to paint the tapestry of my life
I engraved her name
on silken pastels
of breeze-kissed sand
bathed in nymph-like shimmer
hues of spectral mystique
sea glass encapsulated —
a choral rhapsody
weathered charms of jade, emerald
a frosted sheen
shaped by the ocean—
each jewel whispers to me
that even the broken can be reshaped
into timeless marvels
Just fill out this page of plain A4
I promise that the words will come
Any excuse may be mere confusion
As writer’s block is just an illusion
Speak the words, don’t play dumb
There’s everything left to play for
I am a different kind of inspiration
The heavy hand often does just fine
No faffing around, saying your tired
Just get with it and be tightly wired
Find satisfaction squeezing every line
I don’t accept dither or obfuscation
The words are in there, as we know
They need teasing out one by one
Maybe you could even start a flood
You are a writer, it’s in your blood
So finish this work and you are done
Until the next time it doesn’t flow
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
Poetry/Acrostic/Everyday is a Cliffhanger
Copyright Protected, ID 17- 879-893-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
When the green snout is full
rabbits spill on the lawn.
I worry night and day,
because the stoats and the Red Tails
are at work
even in whelm and nimiety
they hack and harrow.
The young kits are many,
the sun too bright.
Foragers forgo fear,
are palpable and open,
not just
the long-eared nibblers,
the hairs on many scutters
are laid bare,
the sniffers thrive,
are prone to be pounced upon;
their thin pelts all unhidden,
and being many,
and not running,
they are huddled.
If this spill will not ease.
If the grabbers not falter,
the singled-out dither,
the glut not wither,
then the green snake
will climb a way
to the nestlings hutch;
all so easily found
and quickly snatched.
I worry for
the small brown birds,
their mottled shells
still unhatched.
In this gorge and sate;
I fret for all this new life
that has arrived too late.
the Virus from Hell is amused
laughing at the world’s panicked reaction
as it marches through the world unabated
infecting everyone in its wake
as the world awaits its fate
the virus smiles he ain’t no fake
he is the real deal
he is death itself
he is the end of the world
the grim reaper is smiling
god is silent as usual
the world’s leaders
dither and rather
as the economy craters
everyone hoping that God
will save them
the virus does not care
insults and orders do not work
the virus simply does its virus thing
infecting everyone it encounters
and thousands will die
equal opportunity offender
killing the rich and the poor alike
but more poor people
just so many more poor people
than the few billionaires
the virus smiles
his work is done
and mankind is doomed
so be it the virus thinks
that is the way of the world
and the virus is the new king
of the world
After an hour’s incessant rain,
On this cloudless evening,
With the face of the sky
Washed clean,
Globules of water
have speckled the oiled surface,
of leaves on arching trees.
They glisten in the evening light,
reflecting kaleidoscopic colors.
Lying on my bed, curled up,
as I look on, they quiver,
dither, wobble and flutter.
In their effort to balance precariously,
each drop, rolling and spiraling
flops down one by one,
with a sad refrain-
Flip… plop, flip …plop
leaving ripples in the puddles below.
In the deep hush of Nature,
on this twilight evening,
their distinct tinkling,
falls as music to my ears!