Long Dunked Poems
Long Dunked Poems. Below are the most popular long Dunked by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dunked poems by poem length and keyword.
I stare at the paint I have smeared.
Knowing it is time to give up, I refuse.
You're tired, my heart says.
You're exhausted.
Sh! I say. I'm trying to fix this.
The more I try, the worse it becomes.
Bad brush, I say, throwing it into the water.
The next brush is bad too, and the one after that.
I get frustrated now.
My painting is a mess.
I need rest.
My mind knows this.
My heart refuses.
I need to paint! she cries.
Winning, she begins.
Four more brushes get dunked into the water.
They are all bad.
Ten minutes later, the painting is thoroughly ruined.
Completely non-fixable.
My neck and my back ache.
I am exhausted,
and I am irritated with myself.
I knew better.
Why do I always listen to you?
I think, admonishing my heart.
My mind laughs.
DUNKED
I feel like a badly dunked and broken biscuit
Sweet icebergs floating in a warm cup of tea
What was to have been a favourite texture
Now a mudslide with soft submerged blobs
Abandoned now as the drinker walks away
Is this how people always are at the end
As hopes for something good are dashed
Beyond any recovery, left to sink unseen
Discarded, bereft of earlier anticipation
Despite all good intentions, now failed
However solid things were at the start
A confection constructed for a soft bite
Now just a sludge with no pretensions
Not having made it to teeth or tongue
That missed taste opportunity now lost
But the other half still between the fingers
Perhaps a chance for some redemption
Not risking a further failed attempt
But a crisp bite is now just acceptable
And avoidance with a careful sip of tea
Gushing garish grin greets God’s playhouse
Enthusiastic thrust roars cacophony chorus
Onyx walls leer clown mouth, splash pounce
Mountain morose bellows waterfall raucous
Forceful pools swirl, gentle raptor glide
Cyclonic claws tug a dunked daredevil
Pop up toast, poured tea tropical slide
Drop dagger deluge, strange fish swivel
Trapped in green marble pummel frigid
Tap of gurgling bubbles bores odsidian
Eye to eye with cruel cassowary, my inquiry
Why chase your young away, are you afraid?
Aghast grips his cobalt throat, furnace fiery
Answer slips from stone, thrown to cascade
4th July
Forceful Judge
Walking on the street,
stretching out both my arms
to catch the breeze
looking silly,
but I don't mind...
'silly' could very well be my middle name...
Closing my eyes as the
sun was dipping goodbye
just for a quick bit though,
(I reckon I'm not that silly),
since I wasn't walking on a sidewalk,
since there was none in that part...
wishing I was sitting instead,
or in that place
where I can swim
in that Manila Bay sunset,
immerse myself
stare,
drink that shimmering orange yolk
that bleeds light
watching it dip softly
into the languid waves,
rendering brilliance,
gilding everything
a golden inked cookie
from the milky sky
being dunked,
tickling my hungry eyes
ah,
the glorious,
soul-filling
Manila Bay sunset
--------------------------------
I continue my walk home
and I sigh,
I sleep at sunrise.
0528200913
I have a big feeling I will be writing a different version of this,
I was walking on that street, wishing I was watching the sunset
near Manila Bay
but yup, this was something that I wrote when I couldn't sleep
so wasn't able to fully grasp what I wanted to be conveyed,
it lacks something, I don't know, just Something.
Thank you for passing by.
Paper.
The howl of the last person to put their pencils in their pencil box.
In this truth, I experience.
Paper within paper.
You could boil it.
And boil everything gone.
And eat the leftover mashed paper.
I have several sparkly pens.
They are just so nice.
If I could write for a few hours at a time…
I would turn off the stove and order take out.
Splashing around in the words.
Laugh and turn the paper into a crumpled ball.
I don’t think anyone really does these things.
The weariness, the scribbles.
Paper strains all water, if it gets dunked in.
I miss my sister.
She likes things like magazines, and books.
And me.
I’m a paper mache girl!
Wild, and made of scraps.
Looks real, so real.
All that paper can be.
haunted, moon’s on the cliff,
orchestrating the waves —
she studies them.
did you know the water turns green,
the thunderclaps like cymbals?
shroud hangs like a towel
over her right arm,
bare feet
long to jump —
to fall, be wild with the wind.
tangled greenbrier hair,
she’s a Magdalene figure,
with archaic spirits
that dare her to fling
herself into the jet stream.
the tiniest voice
freezes her like a statue.
the rain melts her gaze.
she blinks;
the spell dispelled.
she nearly slips
as if tangled in seaweed,
her fingers claw the wet wall,
she weeps.
falls asleep just outside danger,
dreams a dream —
a waterfall,
tears rush forth
in colorful tones.
suddenly...
a stranger
in the thicket...
one day after sorrows...
she’s being dunked in the water...
reborn in the sunlight…
11/16/2020
Hooray!
Wet grassy feet fill my soccer cleats.
Hot sweaty teens run fast track meets.
She skis down sugary mountain tops.
He begs his coach to play shortstop.
Footballs, field goals, fumbles.
Touchdowns, tackles, tumbles.
My mother keeps warm with hot brown drinks,
as I learn to skate on chilly rinks.
A sadly splintered hockey stick, from a two-quick hat trick.
A winning catch is cradled in a well-loved mitt.
Tiger wins with a hole in one.
Miniature golf is much more fun.
Double dribble the whistle blows.
Excitement on the court grows!
Busy balls dunked in their hoops.
"Hooray" the three cheers for the ALLEY -OOP!
“Is dunking dangerous, Uncle Jack?”
“Of course not!” the captain said. He dunked his donut in his coffee to demonstrate.
“Dunking is a great way to eat your food,” he told his nephew, Slim.
“You dunk your peanut butter cookies in your milk, don’t you?”
Slim nodded.
“I dunk potato chips in my tomato soup, don’t I?” Jack asked Slim.
They talked about all the things they liked to dunk well into the noon hour.
Glorifying the art of dunking and how wonderful it was.
“What if you don’t want to eat what you dunk?” Slim asked his uncle.
“No sense in dunking them, then” Uncle Jack replied.
That afternoon when Slim went swimming, he did not dunk anyone.
Because he did not eat people.
The lifeguard did not blow his whistle,
and he had the best swimming afternoon of his life, thanks to his Uncle Jack.
Early registration! Determination in his eyes , off we go to the land of isolation and independence.
It is what l asked for all my young life , now that it is here....l can't take it , l was warned that "lf you rush , you crush." Well what l blasted into existence is destroying my crops.
My face dunked in shame , what have l done? I just wanted so badly to grow up , be on my own but fishing tends to be tricky when hunting on a stormy day and it seems it's always stormy. Life right? What is the price of growth!?
Honesty , integrity , empathy , sympathise and realize the true lies told by Pennywise.....the rotten grapes igniting within my veins deceiving me into supernova , oh my dejavu!
Late registration....the arrow of belief in the goodness pumping love into my being , Bloodmary of courage, yes l am young that makes me free and ready to excellerate.
(This is a fictional poem)
I don't have any cigarettes to smoke.
I can't get laid because I'm broke.
I have no gas so I have to walk wherever I go.
I try to take girls out on my bicycle but they keep saying no.
I made some home made booze that I tried to sell.
But it made the first customer go blind so I went to jail.
My cellmate dunked my head in the toilet and gave me a swirly.
I thanked God when they let him out early.
When I got out of jail, I had no food to eat.
I was so hungry that I was nibbling on my own two feet.
I'm starving while my neighbor is as big as a cow.
I want somebody to either feed or shoot me now.