Long Drip Poems
Long Drip Poems. Below are the most popular long Drip by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Drip poems by poem length and keyword.
In the centre of the woods, I switched off my torch. Utter blackness.
Wet branches drip-dropped onto my head. Fresh autumnal air blended with the smell of decaying leaves, and faint whiffs of wild plants lingered.
The softly gurgling nearby river was the only sound, until a creature shrieked. An owl hooted and I shivered, although the night was mild.
Dead wood cracked and I spun round, disorientated. A fox cub barked. I smiled and then felt a spider’s sticky dewy web cling to my face. Tiny tickly legs crossed my forehead and left me.
No other human was near. I felt at one with nature and sensed magic all around me. I could believe fairies danced in this place.
My ancient ancestors had felt all this. This moment was timeless.
birds begin to sing
in the surrounding trees - -
shafts of light appear
7th October for Constance’s Haibun contest
“God within me is the enjoyer of the aroma
As also this dopamine boosting flavour I taste
I surrender all pleasures to the dweller of my heart
Breath by breath thus that my soul presence be chaste”
Whether it's perked or left to drip
I drink coffee after I quip,
"Cool enough not to burn my lip."
Ahh... that first sip Ahh... that first sip
A spoon of sugar, splash of cream
Aroma woke me from a dream
From the cup rises vapor steam
In sunlight's gleam In sunlight's gleam
My eyes savor the morning scene
More than the flavor of caffein
I hear songbirds as they convene
Their songs serene Their songs serene
I'm content after yawns and sighs
Enjoying a cup at sunrise
As dawn chooses to colorize
Aurora skies Aurora skies
I recognize God's hand in this
Reminding me not to dismiss
These moments as if nature's kiss
A time of bliss A time of bliss
My cup and sunlight keep me warm
Daybreak serves as a tranquil balm
Reading scripture nurtures my calm
A hallowed psalm A hallowed psalm
The dark gray clouds formed upon the horizon
Creating yet another dreary, cloudy, sunless day
The sun refused to shine and radiate brightness
Leaving the cool, cloudy day in gloomy despair
The snow had fallen the previous night
Covering the brown ground of fall past
The morning brought sleet and icy rain
The ground now resembles that of a ice rink
As the rain began to dress the surrounding
Ice sheets formed and clung to what it found
The snow began to fall gently downwards
Big, fluffy flakes carried on the breeze
Icicles formed and began to drip
Slowly a water droplet would fall
One by one until the icicle had disappeared
To the snow covered ground below
As the day progressed
Snow continued on it's downward flow
Ice still remained underneath the white dust
Making all movement very slow.
Sold by your own compulsion, full on disgust rot & rust you've given into another indulgence.
The waste of day into another loss of light, inside the ever eluding conscience, empty as black as the night.
No trace of the bounty with none in nothingness, a face diluted & drowning. Obsession straight inside your mindlessness.
Like wax's continuous drip.
Skin melted in this mind, a fact that keeps the contortions broken inside.
The never ending shifting water...
The ever changing wind, reflections look like slaughter.
Watch your thoughts twist then bend.
Like that of the forever hath, acknowledge what's true, reality read in epitaph.
Should've taken hold,
learning from young to old.
Material fortune easily lost, a *ucktard is simple, no will or character to emboss.
If thoughtlessness was piss, then your surely drinking this!
Nothing descends.
Nothing gained.
Nothing missed.
Placated by stupidity.
Dilapidated in lividly.
Feel the divine nectar drip
As it embarks upon its trip
From the Bindu-Sahasrara
Via Ajna to the Anahata
Fire in Manipura must wait
As in the heart bliss elates
Expansion therein exponential
Amidst silent thunder magical
Feel numerous lifetrons awaken
From their slumber gently shaken
Rising in joy to the dance divine
In synchronous harmony all align
Each gyration of the Ohm pulse new
Renewing itself in beauteous hues
Dive in oh hermit! Dive in deep
Feel the nectar into each pore seep
Feel without imagining or anticipating
Pulse of divine magnetism scintillating
The rise, the peak, the plateau, the fall
Across all coordinates feel love call
Shifting tides being of no consequence
To formless presence jiving in innocence
Moment to moment to moment we flow
In resistanceless stillness gentle & slow
31-July-2020
Graceful and honest ideas drip down,
Drowned in bohemian glass,
Soothing our curse of mental despair,
Repairing the thoughts that we ask,
Behind these masks we all wear as one,
Confronting unknown days ahead,
These masks for others around us to see,
Freeing the guilt that is spread,
And just like a tattoo of smile and frown,
Found in the theatre inside,
We march on and on to the end of our road,
Sold to what we are supplied,
Still, are we one thought owned by the many,
One thought that’s been written in stone,
Or are we a thought unique by design,
A wine that’s sipped all alone.
Herons fragment the mist,
appear and disappear while remaining motionless.
The skiff rocks as a coal barge trundles past.
A dewy sky shivers.
Nowadays he just sits in a boat looking at Ohio.
This morning the sun reached the top of a willow
and got stuck.
He rowed toward the bank thinking to get under the tree,
filled an imaginary pipe full of tangy river smoke,
sucked on the wet air
as he watched the tree struggling with the sun.
For a while it was a tussle, then the willow shook itself
and the sun slipped away like an unmoored ketch.
At first, the sun just hovered like a blanched balloon
then it found a window above the mounded smother
and it rose up like a Choctaw bass
about to mouth a trill of small fry.
He was near to the shore now,
Ohio slanted down to meet him
cattails and reeds scratching the aluminum hull.
A couple of mallards jumped out of nowhere
and flew over his eyes. The clatter of wings
ruffled the chill bank where a dank light had sunk.
His mind followed them for some time
until they settled deep down
amid a wraith-wrapped Kentucky.
A heron slowly rowed the wind
stirring up the vaporous air, Patches of clarity
drifted across sky-high filtering puddles.
Ohio becomes a river town, the huddled houses
have scuttled their roofs upon soggy pathways.
The mossy hulks of an abandoned industry
wallow in a foggy backwash.
Castaway wharfs drip a spatter and smear,
a hand me down script of a yesteryear.
A small blue-collar marina,
beer cans roll on swaying pontoons,
a couple of dry docked rowboats
and canoes.
Truck tires thump harbor chains.
Someone is up early, someone else watches him
gut and clean a large flathead.
On the damp dock cats circle the bones and scales
creep through the miasma
their fur wet and glistening eyes flashing a liquid silver.
The catfish is naked and shorn of the river
a thing to be watched least it return to life
as something beyond the ken of cats and fishermen.
On the ramp he hitches up his straggling life
and drives away from a berth awash
with the haunted cries of Loons and Redtail’s.
Soon he will be back in the patched-up pockets of Ohio
where corn husks snag hoarfrost and rattle
in a fresh rinsing breeze.
I Drip Hot Sauce
All Around Where
They Come In...
Because That
Confuses 'Em
And Makes Them
Go Insane.
A Few Get By,
And I Eliminate
'Em Forthwith.
I Want The Kitchen
To Have The Reputation
(For Ants) Of Where
Our Fellow Brothers
Went Insane.
And That's Horrific.
Because I Don't
Really Care About
A Few Ants Very Much.
They Just Bother Me,
Because They Are
Autobot Conformists
Who Only Care About
THEIR Goals... And
Aren't My Enemy,
But Never Care At
All What I Need...
I Have To Be Selfish,
Or I'm Too Mean And
Depressed.
You Know. Grrr.
-Gray Squirrel
12-09-2025
In the whirlwind of the wind, my soul also spins unyieldingly,
On watercolor wings, the seasons carry me aloft,
Through wrinkled fantasies, the heart's mistakes shatter,
Waltzing in the whispers of waves, my soul cradles gently.
Under the watchful rain of stars, my dreams drip slowly,
The talisman stained with tulips hides unspoken truths,
Stepping lightly over the threshold of dusk, time is my friend,
I am the sunset, and the silence of saffron storms follows me.
O, you, ruler of minds playing on the edge of dreams,
The empyrean inferno burns around your diamonds,
We feel deep in our bones miracles without mirrors,
Ugly hyacinths melt under the melodious mint of magnolia.
We are but moments dissolved in the silent meditation of evening,
The thread of turmeric love binds us to lemony light,
The neon Nile flows through our intuitive isles, dancing,
Under the moonlight, separated from the watching darkness.
The dazzling luxury calls us to place our trust in it,
Bleeding into the constellations of our higher virtues,
The heavens wonder about the sirens singing forgiveness imperfectly,
The fragrance of forgiveness carries the sailors of nirvana to dawn.
This hummingbird has hushed its beats under the eternal sky,
I am a dialect of dawn, in the scentless sunrise of life,
A patriot of peace, pirouetting in the ephemeral elixirs of time,
Burning auroras pour over the lips of loving angels.
happiness wets me as
in torture,
drip by drip,
dropwise...
impossible to drink
the sea...
how impossible
is to count its sand...
herald birds
of spring,
mosquitoes sent
from rains,
dry leaves signs
of autumn,
advertiser swallows
of summer....
your love extinguished
from me while i
burned me with love...
Your love was only dry.
and mine only flood...