Long Ellie Poems

Long Ellie Poems. Below are the most popular long Ellie by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ellie poems by poem length and keyword.


Gameorror

Left the bar at a sprint
Where city of the raccoon fell
Paused in mist
of silenced hill
as siren screamed
Halloweened in Haddonfield
Ran the razor shadowed gauntlet
of elm street
Scanned the errs
My cabin in the woods
Bruce with loose hand in hand
left for dead in the morning
Sat for hours on the screens
but i wasn't there during the day
Saw a man amputate himself
Stared through anothers eye holes
While Jeepers creepers stung the air
Turned away from Samara
as she pulled from static screen
It made the penny wise
Out last the last of us if Ellie had her way
Slipping sun draped dunes
of San Andreas
as Trevor rants away


Sexual Scrabble

Ellie was going to play in the World Scrabble
Championships in Thailand but format had changed,
instead of the usual English rules, it was sexual,
all words now were risque' with no decency at all.

She was horrified but somehow still agreed to play,
closed her eyes and wondered what mother might say; 
there was still the fifty point bonus for seven letter word,
like 'bollock' which all sounded rather absurd.

There was a triple word score when she put '*****,'
and another bonus for even managing '********,'
double letter score for dumping the 'X' in sex,
there were numerous laughs when she managed 'sucks.'

It wasn't enough, she was just out of her league,
and finally had to give up due to sexual fatigue.
Form: Prose

Premium Member Kids' Naughty Game

Like cats and dogs they love and fight
Then giggle through the beam of night…
Ellie plans a game, how fun and right
Along the grass where moon shines bright,
When naughty cousins fly a kite
Its tassels blazing, red to white;
As Peyton holds the strings real tight.

The wind dives low with forceful might
Kids tumbling like their toy’s low height.
Suddenly, a rush brings them fright
Is it a creature dark or light?
Without thought, they run from the site
Into the yard, the gang on flight;
Inflaming laughter, what a sprite!


Personal Memories Monorhyme II
Contest of Laura Loo   6/14/1016
Form: Monorhyme

Premium Member Blonde

I hate that Nellie Olson
—Laura Ingalls, Little House on the Prairie

I’ll fix her. You’ll see.
—Nellie Olson, Little House on the Prairie
(regarding Laura)

Season 6, Episode 2: The two get muddy fighting over a man. Nellie gets even but guess who gets the man and the husband?! Don’t worry Nellie finds her match and he helps to turn her into a better person, well she wants to be better because she loves him. 

Blonde

B leached before birth, bright
     L ocks with buoyant curls
   O nerous trimmings with foxy tail
  N ellie was notorious, jealous,
 D emanding all of Laura’s suitors
E at out of her hands, nest in her blonde lair
Form: Acrostic

Premium Member His Eyes Are Not That Blue

He was reputed to be rich which was enough for some girls.
James B Thorndike the fifth, and full of himself to whit.
The bluest of eyes stared from under his ebony curls.
I spoke to him once, and he treated me like a little twit.

He always had a gaggle of giggling idiots hanging on to his arm.
He was trim, but small, his feet were the tiniest ever. 
I frankly did not see any of his irresistible charm.
But his gaggle would follow him from here to forever.

“What about him?” my visiting cousin asked once, batting her eyes.
Because she was instantly smitten, and silly about him. 
Look down at his feet, they are pretty much miniature size.
We could not stop giggling, this James that was more a Jim. 

He’s looking at us, my cousin Ellie J. Breathless said, shocked.
And look at his hands, I threw in. They are the hands of a girl.
They were soft all right, and puffy. Not like other hands that rocked.
We could not stop laughing as another straightened his curl.

He is not nearly as polished as a fifth should be. He needs to shave too.
I pointed this out to women who had come to my party to gawk.
His shoes are not genuine leather, I said. And his eyes are not so blue.
Why did you even invite him? One asked, seeing him, and going into shock.

Our mothers share a bridge club, a Bible study, a book club and a tree.
The other girls were giggling, heading to him like moths to a light.
I had to invite him I said to no one, “for my mother made me.”
He is not nearly as handsome when you live next door and he is a blight.

James P. Thorndike under pretense of drink, came over and glared at me.
What are you telling them? He asked me. My neighbor and forever best friend.
Nothing much, I admitted, looking at eyes bluer than the sea.
Knowing full well, he would be my forever after in the end.
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Where Do Poets Go

I peruse my list of ‘favourite poets’ and sadness comes over me
My writing partner Darren Watson – his poems I no longer see
We wrote together as Jadazzle United
Had such fun together I was so excited
Then he became ill and writing together ceased
He contacted me in August and our creativity was again unleashed 

We have not written together since September last year
I’ve not had any news, for his well being I fear
The door is always open should he wish to write once more
My pen is poised ready for a Jadazzle United encore!

Many lovely poets have disappeared from our view
Robin, Ellie, Nature Boy, come back soon – we miss you!

Contest: Where Do Poets Go. Sponsor Jerry T Curtis
28th February 2016
Form: Rhyme

Reading the Old Fashioned Way

Why... just yesterday
where webbed wide world troubles
     seemed so far away,
that would hove bin Monday
(October first tooth
     house sand eight
     teen), i.e. yea all
     ready yes tar day

immediately found me ah say
comfortably, yet (gnome
     min Ellie squirreled away)
seated on lawn chair a lay
ying when tired noggin sinks
     deeply buried amidst pillows, may
find me submerged clay
mare ring with fervent eagerness,

     and minimal delay
to soak in contents of the latest
     issue of TIME magazine
     came in the mail, hooray
which information periodically,
     I always eagerly await
     akin to puppy at play
time, though occasionally,

     an issue doth
     not arrive so okay
lack of receiving timely enjoyable
     enlightening material,
     no reason to nay
say United States
     Postal Service pray
tell, an alternate option avails

     to peruse online
     contents, aye vay
their experience, the
     smooth paper texture
this "FAKE" snoop
     doggy dog tags
     online medium deplore
able, cuz lack of poor

lee no comparison versus
     cozying up with pages
     as wood burning
     stove doth roar
these fingers can turn more
appealing than straining, whar
only with great effort,
     aye wreck kin and,

     unable to ignore
     eyes coon sitter
     this quite a chore
to lean in attempting
     with difficulty to explore
(with scrunched brow, and
     squinting myopic ocular orbs)
     scroll thru webpage,

     while ma back
     also feels strained, nor
ken nigh, yet favors
     the hard copy
     visa vis discovering significant
     global and local happenings,

     (which affinity also applies
     to The Nation magazine),
     yet latter noticeably more
brashly appealing tummy with
     righteous leftist political
     leanings bobbing along bon jour.

Premium Member Marion's Return

As Marion trod the old familiar path
leading to the river of her childhood,
she viewed the willow tree across the river
and recalled with clarity
the event that changed her life 
half a century ago - that memory
which for all her adult life
she‘d managed to suppress . . . 

She was being chased by Ellie down the path;
Ellie, the fair haired younger sister
favored by their father
and wearing the golden pendant he had given her
when she’d won a spelling bee. 
Yanking the pendant from her sister’s neck,
Marion ran into the river’s icy water,
threatening to throw the pendant in.
Screaming, Ellie followed right behind.
Farther into the river’s center, the two girls moved.
Where the riverbed dipped sharply, 
Ellie had caught up.

Suddenly the wind blew violently,
The chain with its beautiful pendant
slipped from Marion’s hand 
into the swirling water.
Ellie tottered, falling backwards.
Then the river was carrying 
Marion’s little sister to the other side.
Marion called out, but Ellie did not answer.
A strong swimmer, Marion swam 
to her sister’s lifeless body 
on the opposite bank where a nearby willow stood -
witness to her crime.

Marion now was standing where she once had stood
that fateful day. The river had receded with time,
but its current was still strong. 
She stood recalling her parents’ bitter tears
and how she had escaped their wrath
inventing her own version of the truth -
that Ellie had run into the water by herself
when the sudden wind came up
causing her demise.
She felt bad, but in the end, 
she became her father’s newfound pride and joy.

Something glittered at the water’s edge.
Marion, now heavy and clumsy with age,
moved closer to see. Could it be after all these years?
Yes, it was the pendant, shining in the river’s sludge!
She stooped to pick it up, but lost her balance,
 falling forward toward the slanting floor.
As she struggled, a great gust of wind
moved her out. . .farther and farther to the middle.
Before her head vanished below the water’s surface,
she saw that old willow’s leaves flutter angrily.
She could almost swear she saw the form of Ellie,
fair sweet Ellie, beckoning her from the other side.


For Frank Herrera's POEM ENDING WITH A 'CHILLING TWIST' Poetry Contest
Form: Narrative

Flames of Desire

You inflamed
 my desire
To dance 
 inside your fire
The burning
 of your heat
Leaves me 
 satiated and
depleted
A voracious fire
 inside your need
Consuming with
repleating
WOW indeed
The sparks of
this flame are 
Hungry and feeding
With this 
growing yearning
Thats flying free
Baby, I feel
You are the one
To set me free


It's rapped up in that
 Ellie Goulding song
My heart don't understand it
Why I got you on my mind

And that Maroon 5 song
That's so erotic
Beyond logic
Animals 
I can smell your scent for miles


Or that Katy Perry song
I'm coming at you like a dark horse
Make me your Aphrodity
Make me your one and only

What a sticky 
situation
To be in
Red flags
going off
all over
 the place
It's this 
pretty face
Help me
 God
I need
 your grace

Is Jesus In a Box

Is Jesus in a Box
Mr Elephant walked to his wife, an elephant called Ellie
“You have a good memory” said Mr Elephant 
“Do you think that you can help me”?
Ellie waved her trunk and asked, “What is it husband of mine,
 If I can help, you know I will”
 "It’s this darn question here, I don’t know the answer still”.

“Is Jesus in a box? What kind of question is that?
“I was taught he went to his father in heaven, he died for people, and that’s that”.
Ellie said “I remember from my elephant relatives, they passed it down trunk to trunk
But people have a habit these days, of making it all sound junk.”

“Jesus I believe to earth he was sent, by his heavenly God and father
Because the serpent had persuaded Eve to take her free will a little bit further.
To take a bite of the fruit of the tree, of the knowledge of good and bad
Eve then offered some for Adam to bite, so he was just as sad.”
.
“The knowledge they gained turned them both from God
 They thought that they now knew better.” 
So from the Garden of Eden he cast them out,
And put it in a bible letter.

Adam and Eve went from bad to worse their sons were awful to each other
And from them both their children learned, some even to hate their brother.
God was now not happy with his grandiose plan,
he asked his son if his life would give, to save this earthling man.

Jesus looked at his father; he had the best one that he knew
“Of course my god and father, I will do this thing for you”
As a reward his father said “When you have completed this terrible thing
I will bring you back to heaven and make you a heavenly King.”
Mr Elephant looked at his wife, her trunks as beautiful as golden locks
“Of course dear Ellie I knew you would know, Jesus can’t be in a box.”

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