Long Drooling Poems
Long Drooling Poems. Below are the most popular long Drooling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Drooling poems by poem length and keyword.
Did Shakespeare ever fall in love?
A rose by any other name would
stink as sweet!
What would Y'eshua say if indeed
Magdalene was his favorite disciple?
What miracles would he impress her
with
So as to savor her forbidden apple?
O woman!
Is that why god made you last of all
nature's enviable beauty?
If before he said let there be light
You were the first thing his devine
eyes saw
I bet creation would have been a
different theory altogether.
If love at first sight was a figure of
speech
Then I swear I love you like a
metaphor
And your smile is a typo
They meant to say a simile
I will kiss your face like a blank page
And my lips will be the tip of my
pencil
Drawing drooling hieroglyphs like
the hand of god
Inscribing Ten Commandments of
Love
On the tablets of your breasts
Because my name is Moses
A stammerer on a voyage to save a
lonely soul
From the shackles of cynicism
On love affairs.
I would love to laugh while making
rough love to you
On the dark floor of my solitude cell
Where torn pages of amatuerish
poems lay as a carpet
Because you are my words:
Maybe your face is the sky
And your eyes are the stars
Maybe your laughter is a symphony
Of a million harps from a million
virgin angels
I have written about love a million
times
And still you remain elusive
A mystery
Are you an acrostic;
So each letter tells your tale?
Maybe a couplet or limerick?
Are you a sonnet? Or a ballad? Or a
metre without a rhyme?
Maybe you are a mere syllable I
mumble at every sudden ******.
Your body is a symmetry of regular
ryhthm
Consumate from five to seven
And back to five
Haiku:
Japanese poets should build a
pedestal for you
And all lustful lads
Should come and slink the slank at
your feet
Indeed lady,
Your gait and pride and smell of
shaven armpits and eyeballs might
make a eunuch have an ********
And that to me
Is amorous injustice!
Tell me,
What can a scribe do?
When all I write about is human
weakness
And wickedness?
When writing to me is an escape
from adjectives I can't utter over a
cup of coffee?
To me,
The strand of your hair alone
Deserves atleast umpteenth stanzas
of praise
A prerequisite.
If I say I love you
Will you giggle at my palpability?
Why bore you with parables
When all you yearn for is a touch
And forever?
I will say no more.
Will you burn the earth`s skin to glass?.
Yet, right there , in Harmony of `69
I bent in adoration
before the dusky pearl of your forehead
the soft slopes of your never-ending body
shifting under a sea of blankets
Oh! treasure of treasures !
sparkling
to life
love
in the inner-sanctum of the
tent-temple of my emerald heart,
filling it with that attar fragrance ,
that compassionate smile,
that yearning voice,
quieting my storm
urging me
to swim your sultry sea.
How could the world ever be the same again ?
Outside,
rooted like stark brood of the Black stone ,
rocks parried thuddingly the capricious charge of waves
and subdued the swell and swirl of a dark ,disturbed sea.
The summer night was short
and I
cleaved to you like a calf to its mother.
Your dark-eyed nipples breasted the blanket ,
occulting the coarseness of Harmony .
We rocked to cradle the peace in the galaxy,
with love milking the way
to the morning star .
Winking over the mount,
Venus caught us intertwined ,
drooling like babes,
sated
I, summer cloud paramour of
you Landie ,
altar of my sensuous sacrifice
sweet naos forever
Yolande
briefly
undraping your
compassionate cosmic essence
for a gallant stripling
starving for affirmation.
Awed,
i nested in mouths
harmonizing
now enchanting,
now strident symphonies,
keen enough to split
chaos
into mutual opposites
that grappled , grinded and finally clashed ,
giving birth to a higher union.
I tattoo your name , Landie, on the stretched skin of the earth.
I pullulate the waves in your name
sackbutting the syllables
till tremolo breaks it breathlessly to foam
on the glistening beach of your belly
Wrinkles I didgeridoo into the dark blanket of our night,
stringing out your diadem of stars
I spiral you stately across my deep.
Breaking away
reluctantly
from the tug of your knees
i trolled our anchor through love`s flow
girding it close to my wound-up heart.
"Go now love….spare me a thought "
Your voice and a gentle seabreeze wafted me out.
Diving at dawn with a whale of love
between waking dunes
capped by sourfigs , bleary-eyed revellers,
the blue-blue sky warbled
“one and one and one is three
One thing you got know ,is you got to be free
Come together, right now , over me.”
.
A dreaming man in the state of REM
sees the dream as a reality
rivers of thoughts like sparkling gems
reveling in his new found sanity.
hours ago, a dozen empty bottles
deafening music and cheesy sizzles
gagging from second hand smoke
rhetorical nagging, senseless jokes
laser lights blinding, dancing to tune
a guy signing, sounding like a croak
who was better off in the heat of the dunes
Staggering dizzily up steep stairs
without acrobatic skills of balance and grace
like in a masquerade with ladies all fair
behind his mask, the unseen face
drooling and smelling of alcohol
like in a trance at this dream ball
as dim lights lead to his abode
soft music playing in shuffle mode
eager for that soft fluffy pillow
to unburden all of the days load
into this dreamy soft silo
Rumbling snores fill the bunk
like thunder after the blinding bolt
deep into the sea of linen he is sunk
impervious even from a jarring jolt
closed eyes start to move and spin
like in a search that is to begin
falling , falling into deeper slumber
into a world far, far beyond yonder
played out by his own memories
a scene of a goose and a gander
replaying happy childhood stories
Splattering water drops in constant dripping
from a leaky rusty faucet
old china strewn in the sink, smelling
like a stale stiff baguette
while a cockroach enjoys the rich dinner
laid out in a gold rimmed platter
unmindful of the thundering snores
that sends minute tremors down the floor
munching, licking, chewing, gnawing…
eating his fill till he can eat no more
while others continue their wild feasting
As light beams transform dark to day
cutting through mists, reflecting in dew
heralded by songs of love birds at play
as the sweet smell of neighbors hot brew
sings along from a whistling pot
a morning harmony he never forgot
as he struggles up from bed
ringing in his ears, knocking in his head
dizzily dragging himself to the mirror
staring at eyes of blood shot red
as he strains to reach his trusted razor.
His hangover lasted for 3 hours to the dot
couldn’t get to work, so sheepishly he just sat
his job hanging from a thin thread
and a nagging that he hears in his head
round and round he swirls the stirrer
of the hot coffee and a piece of bread
he gingerly asked from his good old neighbor.
Headed home from a business trip
Tired, spaced out, grouchy and impatient
Pushing the limit to beat rush hour traffic
Fast closing on an old, beat up van
Suddenly blue smoke and debris flying
The back tire must have bounced twenty feet up
My first thought…'Stay STRAIGHT, you bastard!'
Careening violently left, it flipped many times
(Several objects were ejected from the doors)
My next thought, 'This is NOT my problem!'
'DAMN!' Slammed on the brakes at the last second
Then it hit me. I was the first on the scene...
I would guess it took 2-3 minute to cross over
Cars whizzing and blowing by in both lanes
Obviously it was not their problem either
(Someone else has stopped, they'll handle it!
Besides, there's a game coming on tonight)
I waved my arms, shouting and pointing…
A woman was lying near the wreckage
wailing in robotic, shock induced screams
Left arm beneath her back with her right arm
twisted at a bizarre and unnatural angle
One man was thrown at least twenty feet off
(Ironically, he seemed the least injured)
He kept trying to get up for some reason
I rushed over and asked him to stay down
"Okay, but the baby! Where is the baby?"
('A baby, you mean there's a BABY??')
"Yes, our BABY...Please go find our baby!"
(‘Oh no, dear God please, no, NO')
The median was a wide, steep-banked grassy ditch
The van was tilted slightly sideways on its roof
Legs rubbery and trembling, stomach churning,
sweat streaming and stinging blurry eyes,
I staggered over to the wreckage, knelt down
and peered through the passenger side window
Empty… (‘Oh no, dear God, please, no, NO’)
Stumbling around back and then alongside,
scanning the grass and then around front
I almost tripped over it. There he was
Maybe five feet from the bumper he sat upright
still tucked safely away in his baby seat
kicking and cooing, giggling and drooling,
obviously having a wonderful time
I collapsed to my knees, bowed my head down
and feverishly began trying to unbuckle him
but quickly thought better, fearing unseen injury
Instead, I took his head gently with both hands,
kissed his forehead and nuzzled against his neck
(Babies have that particular scent, you know)
I recall glancing upward to clear blue skies,
muttering and mumbling incoherent thanks...
Headed home from a business trip
Tired, spaced out, grouchy and impatient
Pushing the limit to beat rush hour traffic
Fast closing on an old jalopy van
Suddenly blue smoke and debris flying
The back tire must have bounced twenty feet up
My first thought, 'Stay STRAIGHT you bastard!'
Careening violently left, it flipped many times
(Several objects were ejected from the doors)
My next thought...'This is NOT my problem!'
'DAMN!' Slam on the brakes at the last second
Then it hit me. I was the first on the scene...
I would guess it took a full minute to cross over
Cars whizzing and blowing by in both lanes
Obviously it was not their problem either...
(Someone else has stopped, they'll handle it!
Besides, there's a game coming on tonight)
I waved my arms, shouting and pointing…
A woman was lying near the wreckage,
wailing in robotic, shock induced screams
Left arm beneath her back with her right arm
twisted at a bizarre and unnatural angle
One man was thrown at least twenty feet off
Ironically, he seemed the least injured
He kept trying to get up for some reason
I rushed over and asked him to stay down
"Okay, but the baby!...Where is the baby?"
(A baby, you mean there's a BABY??)
"Yes, our BABY...Please go find our baby!"
(Oh no dear God please, no, NO)
The median was a wide, steep-banked grassy ditch
The van was tilted slightly sideways on its roof
Legs rubbery and trembling, stomach churning,
sweat streaming and stinging blurry eyes,
I staggered over to the wreckage, knelt down
and peered through the passenger side window
Empty… (Oh no dear God please, no, NO)
Stumbling around back and then alongside,
scanning the grass and then around front
I almost tripped over it. There he was
Maybe five feet from the bumper he sat upright
still tucked safely away in his baby seat
kicking and cooing, giggling and drooling,
obviously having a wonderful time
I collapsed to my knees, bowed my head down
and feverishly began to unbuckle him
but quickly thought better, fearing unseen injury
Instead, I took his head gently with both hands,
kissed his forehead and nuzzled against his neck
(Babies have that particular scent, you know)
I recall glancing upward to clear blue skies,
muttering and mumbling incoherent thanks...
Darkness is he, soulless totally
It's abyss he commands, desiring what he sees
In front of him stands a virgin, pure as the driven snow
For white he knows it is, upon she his darkness will show
Long haired and silken clad, his lusting eyes allure his own
Is it fear that makes her pert, or the fear of being alone
*~*
Upon his lap she stands, so minute to his ogre mass
Her silken attire now torn, talon fingers on she he grasps
Innocent flesh he craves, to satisfy his empty soul
In his lusting abyss, his darkness will soon unfold
*~*
Petite, pert so perfect, ageing hands of his darkened past
Cup her porcelain charms, so grotesque is his grasp
Leering eyes of void, now alive to this virgins flesh
Excitement fills his wants, this maiden near total undress
A strangeness falls amidst this darkened scene
Has she succumbed, is she in the middle or has she seen
*~*
To his torso of centuries old, attention is drawn to he
Reciprocating she kisses in touch, with drooling eyes he sees
This virgin standing in front of him, allured now is she
So minute to his ogre mass, content she appears to be
*~*
Lips touching taste, eyes closed, are they in wonderment
Has she entered his darkened abyss, or is he now heaven sent
Lashing tongues, like a fencing épée now drawn
When his dark met her light, I struggle for the forlorn
Breaths are seldom apart, it's as if magnetic, they are
This join of abyss fuelled white, seems so bizarre
*~*
Lecherousness in his tasting rush, her scent he delves in deep
This virgin, this maiden so taken, to him now she seeps
Like diamonds, her pertness rises, en-capturing her charms
So different when she stood before him, all in alarm
*~*
Tailored they are not, such a difference in size
This virgin maiden so white, soon to be in firm cries
Thralled he now becomes, induced in his darkened dark
He now revels in his taken, amidst thighs of perfection arch
Forlorn has now become, a joining of lustful desires
Black locks now sway with delight, the dark now afire
*~*
Positioning, seasoned they are, in joyful joining crave
Now the darkness has seen the light, in typical deprave
Sighs now resonate, amidst his darkened dingy hell
The allure of purring white, increase his darkening swell
*~*
You've stumbled off the righteous path, into the hushed
Wilderness of the unknown, beware for salvation's sake,
Go back nomad; travel not these paths of no return.
But nay this is the domain of the shades, little is
The light, allowed to seep through the thickets, heavily
Forested canopy.
You hear the underbrush cracking, braking, and freeze.
It's too late for you nomad, for this is death's sacred land.
A place of shadows and darkness, and you are the pray.
It is the scent of fear, drawing these demon dogs of
Damnation's lost, unto your path
Run nomad, for the devil's hounds lie close behind thee,
Those whom need no rest, the depraved, hungering for
The taste of raw flesh, cravings lustful, with an insatiable thirst,
Nay never to be satisfied, instinctual beasts on a blood hunts
Trail.
A packs brethren of the undead, dwelling along the fringes
Of humanity, ever watching, ever aware, just waiting for
The innocent to be caught off guard, than attacking without
Mercy.
Run no mad, for the bastard's of hell's keep, have sensed
Your presence.
In keeping with thy hearts rhythm blood pumps, in unisons
With thy breath,
As exhaustion's limbs tire of this chase, for your lives own
Survival, run nomad, you must move onwards, at any cost.
For the howl of the white fanged, nip at the back of thy heels,
Flee do not take time to gaze behind thee, run nomad,
Refuges salvation lies not far ahead.
A primeval moon glows above thee, illuminating this spectral
Land of the forbidden, it's just then, that you truly realize, the danger
Zone you've entered, as yellow greenish eyes pierce
Through the thickets wild, nomad your surrounded.
Climb to the highest point of observation, as primitive instincts kick in,
But these creatures have all eternity to wait, patient are the kin
To the dead, slippery is the branch, on which humanity grasps,
And beneath lie the tongues of the hungry beast, drooling with
Anticipation feast to come.
In the forest does anyone hear the falling of a tree?
Or the screaming of a nomad, who has lost his way,
Maybe it was just the wind that you have heard,
I wonder, what the noise really was, as it echoes
Deep within the forest of the unknown.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
the only tree for a thousand miles
gave him welcome if temporary shade
a kaleidoscope of mockingbirds filling its branches
it was no longer possible to be blind
but very possible to be jailed
for being unaware of our surroundings
being that we are panphibians capable of TV
where apathy and turmoil don't mix
wracking our brains for the worst solution
every day since time began again
banding bending binding bonding bundling
mind turned upon itself like minds tend to do
a moth eaten panorama of agonies
everything still broken the breakers unpunished
our narrative not telling anyone anything new
long live the revolution in wisdom
that's my drooling occupational therapy grin
it's gotten me out of more than one derailment
feeling life as a prelude to a guillotine basket
or worse a juggernaut of ambition
now that will immediately inaugurate
a prison epidemic of eyeball rolling
can we escape seeing the unseen
or is it just a bigger cage
don't let the blighters
sell you your own real estate
or discoveries in hysteria research
from the Intergalactic Whats Next Council
acting in accord with the statistics
make it more aerodynamic
everything means something
a tool for every job
daily nightly I try to be less stupid
a simple formula designed for
the sweet gurgling idiot infant within
out cold but still in the game
now you got me laughing
momentarily dazed and surprised
prepare only for the eventual
because what remains tends to
influence what is to come
in a logic both apparent and subtle
not exactly free from ahem connotation
as most doors don't open themselves
meanwhile somewhere back in history
the Dog Clan had trouble finding women
with eight or ten ****
there that opened something up
from the spare parts bin
apparently his bulging eyeballs
were on full creme d'menthe death ray
the universal sense of alarm just went off
wailing it's not all brain chemistry
he spoke many tongues in faucet mode
the ramifications came tumbling out
but often heading in opposite directions
while the oppressive crows circled
where the Wizard parks his wagon
every home from Kansas to Atlantis
instituted a reign of madness
terror and ballroom dancing
“Is there any gift more precious than the gift of love by those who blessed us with the gift of life”!
by the Poet
When December comes,
Memories stir up unsought....
Once caught in its whirl
I sink down deep until inebriated
December brings in its wake
Basket full of recollections which take me
Back to the days at my parental home,
Where, as a child, celebrated Christmas
With my siblings and my parents
I haven’t forgotten those haunting days
And never will I as long as sanity sticks.
To my parents, Christmas meant waking up early
Putting on the best dress kept ready
And going to church to attend the mass
While they devoutly partook of the ceremonies
We children, lured by the sparkling lights
Would peer into the crib set ready at one corner
To have a look at infant Jesus lain on hay
With mother Mary and Joseph on either side
More than piety, what governed us then
Were the thoughts of making a crib
Also the yummy goodies awaiting us at home
And the planned visits of relatives
Back from church my mother
Would sweat and strain the whole day
Making special dishes for the Christmas feast
Yummy delights and a mouth drooling dessert
The only gift, we got as children in those days
I still remember the glow of contentment
On my mother's face while serving them for the family
Those were days when less was more
Though there were no presents
Under the Christmas tree to be unwrapped
And no fanfare as of now
How I relish the unconditional love they gave
That I still feast on while starving on life’s sandy dunes
Can it ever match with any glossy gifts of today?
Festive occasions spark such nostalgia
That I long for the warmth, got as a child
From my parents who are now dearly missed
Also my siblings scattered in places, out of easy reach
The lovely memories they left behind
Are deemed as the best gift, I can ever get
And I tuck away that bundle of bliss under my pillow
To take out at will, as and when I recline on my bed
Any attempt at salvaging the deep passion
That nestled in my heart then, is futile
~Placed Second~
A Christmas Gift Memory Poetry Contest
Sponsor- B.J. Legros Kelley
Millions of lives and souls untold
And to account it all
Words, lines, films
Imagination trims
A sliver of soft, scarlet ribbon
Hollywood rounds
Quills deliver
Writers flare with passion so strong
Filling minds with fantasies, reveries, histories
Tragedies
We consume it all like freshly baked bread
We feed until we are engorged and fed
A viral, universal mess
Ideas and unmade memories
Nothing more or less
My eyes remain glued to the screen
Living it all out
Tears dare to flow—to doubt
I should have thought of that
Can I truly let myself believe,
Someone else lived that!
Pound away your directors, script-writers, fighters
For miles and miles of stories remain unread
While the unknown remain in the grounds of humble malnourishment
Dead
Careers for the mind with a twist of the fable
Left us savage for the meal and the crumbs under the table
I can never let the raw truth rest
Naked, bare and empty—soothed
Nothing more or less
I cringed for originality
Observed the world through the unedited scripts
The very act, the poetry pact
The wild animal drooling in the back
I was slapped in the face by my boss who had cracked
As the reviews bloated less and less
They wanted something awful, something flaw-ful—something new
And this empty brain in agony—HISSED
I have lived in no epic battle of account
Of the collateral sufferings of my brothers
The stories the red carpet smothers
And still I ache to create
Before the other ones discover
I returned with ‘‘oh me’s’ and ‘oh my’s’’
With a work of pure genius—a storybook of lies
Nothing more or less
Little have I lacked to dream
Of contortioned pulls and dramatic fire
Stories that rarely brittle or tire
I fiddled with precious glass on edge
Foully eager for self-damage
As if it would trigger some legitimate spark
Searching for creatures and features in the dark
No one unlocked the passage that night
For the starving idea-parched malice of right
But all welcomed with open arms
A pale mannequin filled with jewels and charms
Consuming, fuming dooming
All ghosts hoping, screaming, looming
Hoping that one day they would find themselves on the big screen
Their legacy real as it can possibly get
Nothing more or less