Long Fling Poems
Long Fling Poems. Below are the most popular long Fling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fling poems by poem length and keyword.
I am a butterfly that loves to sing, every note and word I do fling, to rhythm I do cling, music by the flowers has a beat and ring, the ladybugs threw kisses with love.
Big Green likes to join in, his deep frog voice comes with a big grin, our sounds will make you spin, we like to play outside of the inn, they say our voices fit like a glove.
Rose is a backup voice, then there is sweet pea Joyce, take both and do not make a choice, with the four of us we can now rejoice, is this called garden music~kind of.
We play and sing all night long, the flowers like to sing along, everyone likes to hear tweet~tweet from the birdsong, some of the music can get real strong, in the end it sounds like from heaven above.
Date Written: 4/8/2022
9 Place
aaaaf, bbbbf, ccccf, ddddf, eeeef
Tall Tales 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jeff Kyser
The Monarch Who Thought He Was King
Once there was a butterfly
who fluttered by a gate.
The gate was closed, that’s when he said,
“O shucks, now I’ll be late!”
He danced and pranced and shouted
and did not hesitate,
“I demand,” he said with power,
“please, open up this gate!”
To his surprise before his eyes
the gate did open wide.
“A lovely thing; I am the king!
I’m surely qualified.
I had no choice so with my voice
the command I simplified:
‘Just open up this gate!
I need to get inside.’”
He told to all who’d hear him:
“I am the King,” he said.
While some bowed down and listened;
some would not turn their head.
They huffed and puffed and scoffed away,
“We’re sure that you misread.
To open up a gate is easy;
like falling out of bed!”
His shoulders drooped, his forehead sagged;
his eyes filled up with tears,
“You cannot make me less a king
with your scoffing and your sneers.
I am the king,” he fluffed with pride,
“the ruler of my peers.”
Then off he flew without a thought
of all their laughs and jeers.
He fluttered to a purple bush;
the hue fit for a king.
And there he sat to contemplate
and other kingly things.
“I’ll show them all; the small and tall,
and all the scoffs they bring.
A proclamation for my nation:
we’ll hold a royal fling.”
From low and high, from far and near
they gathered close to see
the monarch make his grand command
and show his identity.
A thousand monarch butterflies
watched with frivolity
with five or six ambassadors
from the queendom of the bees.
And there he came with pomp and pride
the self-made king to share
he was a monarch butterfly
and worthy of their care.
He preened his wings and listened for
the sound of his fanfare,
but all he heard was rustling wind
which threw him in the air.
He crashed and tumbled to the floor;
they could not believe their eyes.
The kingdom they had counted on
was built on fibs and lies.
The king was crumpled to the ground
ashamed in his demise.
He let the rain fall down on him
from clouds in the gray skies.
And then he woke up from his nap
and turned inside his bed.
He saw the flowers of his home
of purple, blue, and red.
Right then and there he promised
and to himself he said,
“I’ll be the best of butterflies,
than to be king instead.”
Marry Your Best Friend To Get the Best of Both Worlds
Not many can claim they met their spouse in a battle of wits
much less the fabled (don't believe a word of it!) Internet.
But my uncle, he's not many. And my new aunt? Well she's a keeper.
And it wasn't love like a summer fling --- but it goes much deeper.
The rumors you heard - it's all too true - they met on Online Scrabble:
sesquipedalians by heart, but in the strictest sense, true Word Warriors.
Her last turn was an "I Do"... and when it came, he knew that he was done for:
pussyfooting through the back door, the tenacious Triple Word Score.
The date was planned - his bachelorhood canned. Compensated on Christmas day,
a wifie from Wales to tie the knot with my uncle the Stud from the Spud State.
The Red Dragon Damsel flew in (too strong to be distressed) into my uncle's country life.
(I still remember his clenched fists pouring buckets at the altar ... his first love)
And she brought her little Dragoness, too --- a fiery spark named Emily.
My job was to walk my new British cousin down the aisle,
as she whispered to me, "Should we link arms?"
And though I should have said, "What's the harm?"
instead of a rather robotic canter --- it now brings a smile.
My lovely Aunt Laura wore an eggplant dress, as if too challenge the mountain majesty
that peaked through the church window of that fine Idahoan morn.
Her glorious entry introduced by a Celtic song that would have made Enya weep,
as the vertigo of vows came to a close like a caged bird being released.
Mariah Carey's famous Christmas hit took to life --- All I Want Is You, rang true,
as they took each other's arms to dance celebrating an unlikely circumstance.
Crossing oceans to become One: she from Barry, and he from Boise.
The After Party --- filled with giggles, tears and rip-roaring stories from every point of view.
The wedding cake (believe it or not) was a Scrabble board:
one slice was Congratulations - and though a bit silly, to me it was poetry.
And my uncle - you could tell - was simply dumbfounded
as she took the words right out of his mouth
... with a crumb-filled smooch.
Written February 27th, 2016.
For the My Wedding Day Is Special Because... hosted by Olive Eloisa Guillermo
NOTE: I've never been married before, so I hope writing about my uncle's wedding instead is acceptable.
Okay, here’s a shot at those lyrics, aiming for that Prince-meets-Brandy-ballad-with-a-Usher-hook vibe. I've opted for an AABB rhyme scheme with some internal rhymes to add to the flow.
Title: Cinnamon Skies (For Him)
(Intro - Soft synth pads, a low bass line, and a light drum machine beat – very 90s R&B)
(Verse 1 - Prince-esque vocals, slightly breathy and melodic)
Streetlights blur, a hazy gold, on my way to the pump
Thinking 'bout you, future unfolding, a gentle, subtle thump
He showed his fam, so soon, a shock, but felt like home, you see
Talkin' life, where we goin’, destiny, and you meant for me
(Pre-Chorus - Beat becomes a little more prominent, slight vocal harmonies come in)
He asked about my faith, my dreams, showed such soft respect
Never pressure, just intention, true love we connect
(Chorus - Usher-esque catchy hook, layered vocals, more emphasis on the beat)
Gotta get him, gotta get him, while the love’s so real and true
He's a keeper, trust the feelin', what he feelin’ for you
(Verse 2 - Vocals become slightly more spoken word, still melodic)
Cinnamon dad, a sweet embrace, a fleeting, stolen kiss
Fueling up, for that precious place and that love I can't dismiss
Values deep, he spoke with fire, a vision we both shared
Future plans, burning desire, a feeling, well, it's rare
(Pre-Chorus - Beat picks up again, harmonies a bit stronger)
He honored every line I drew, cherished every side of me
This ain't just a fling, it's true, the man I was meant to see
(Chorus - Usher-esque catchy hook, layered vocals, more emphasis on the beat)
Gotta get him, gotta get him, while the love’s so real and true
He's a keeper, trust the feelin', what he feelin’ for you
(Bridge - Ballad feel, vocal harmonies layered, beat drops to just a basic pulse)
Goddess Abundance, blessed this path, intertwined our fates
No doubt, no turning back, sealed by love, no debates
Early on, showing his clan, that I was meant to stay
A plan so grand, a holy span, now that future’s on display.
(Chorus - Usher-esque with a slight vocal run at the end, powerful and full)
Gotta get him, gotta get him, while the love’s so real and true
He's a keeper, trust the feelin', what he feelin’ for you, oh yeaaaaah!
(Outro - Synth pads and a soft bass fade out, with a final echo of “for you…”)
I was walking through the pineapple row and a thorn stick me on my middle toe, I bend down low to remove it and I almost fell into the ditch, I didn’t know what to do and so I start chanting an unfamiliar tune. It has no rhythm or verse, but it was sufficient to break the curse.
The hidden doctor came from behind the door and the choreographer crawl from underneath the second floor, the pianist was embarrassed to hold up his head they thought that the entire universe was dead; everything was silent around them, and blood was dripping from his hand what on earth is going on? you have to come and do the final dance. It’s called the swing.
Big bright lofty pineapple with ripe colors and succulent smell penetrates the walls and roofs spilling its juice over the place and I open my mouth wide to take it in but I had to go back to where it all begins.
The pineapple field is wide it has thousands of pineapples that is piling up to the sky, the rows are long, the roots are strong, and I want you to help me compose this new song.
The words are simple, and I love your dimples your enigmatic smile has lit up the entire sky, you have brought me to this place to create this song so let’s get together and sing along.
Don’t put too much solitude into it, I want some joy, modern and contemporary sound the twist and the fling and a little of the solemn hymn.
I want you to change that verse and lament on the stolen purse, the pineapple upside down cake is easy to bake, so spread the cake mix into dish and blend the sugar into the butter and whip up the eggs and pour it in.
Place the pineapple slices in the bottom of the tin and pour the mixture in, put it in the oven and make it bake at a temperature of a 350-degree Fahrenheit and when it’s done turn it upside down and place a cherry in the center and send it over to my lover.
She walks with pride through the gate, he has been waiting for her at the door with a bouquet of flower laced in assorted color; he greets her with a kiss, and she smell the flowers and smile and he took her to a neatly dress table and pour Champaign in a glass and he said, “you have come home at last”.
They sat down and stare at each other’s pride and write the final verse with their eyes. We shall be together until we die, and they complete the final song together.
Really? Is that all you are good for? Know your worth!
This is to bring awareness to outside relationships, cheaters, settlers, people who prefer to settle and have relations with someone who is in a relation with another. They do not respect nor care about the damages, affects, or consequences that can result from cheating or having an affair. Whether male or female, it applies to both cases.
If you are knowingly cheating with a married man, you are agreeing to contributing to being a person who administer “Roadside Assistance.” You are called upon when he is “Broke Down,” even if it’s just a minor breakdown. When he is broken, mad, sad, or had a lover’s spat with his wife, he runs to you for assistance and you accept the role as the mechanic. When he is having problems with his starter (yeah his wife), and his starter is acting up, he should make efforts to find out what the problem is and the solution to fix it. That does not mean to go out and get a new starter.
Understand this ladies, he doesn’t really want you, want you, he just needs a lil assistance to temporarily get his mind off the one he truly loves, the one he’ll never leave you for. So let’s say for instance he has a flat, yeah, he’s losing air, he’s got a slow leak, he’s running out of gas, he’s feeling down and he calls you cause he needs assistance. And what do you do when he needs assistance? You assist. You nurture, you cook, you listen, you sex, you pump him up, add fuel to his tank, fix his flat and then he drives home. Yes, home, home to his wife. Your house is not home. Did you think your house was home? Really?
Girl STOP! You are just somewhere he pulled over to the side to get a quick fix, a jump, an oil change, a tune-up…
STOP! JUST STOP! STOP, STOP, STOP!
Stop being on call providing 24 hour Roadside Assistance.
Shake that ssh... off and turn on them headlights, the ones that’s on inside your brain. Change your way of thinking and KNOW your worth!
You are not half of a woman that deserves half of a man. Don’t settle for a piece of man just to say you have a man. You are not no second string, no boo, no side piece, no shorty, no lil chick, no mistress, no fling, no bit..h, no whor$…
YOU ARE AMAZING, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL, YOU ARE A QUEEN and you should be treated as such. You are so much more worthy and deserving of better!
On wings of twilight her hopes flew away
As day eagerly swam into night
Simply had not been a wonderful day
Stars in the sky were a glorious sight
Filling ethereal heavens completely
Showing her optimism so sweetly
Feelings of pure love were in the air
Could she forgive herself? Would she dare?
Evil doubts within her soul began to ring.
Her emotions were not easy to share
Contemplation is a heartfelt thing.
She sat by river on the south side bay
Figuring out how to make angry thoughts right
Gentle ideas escaping for sighs far away
Glowing in her dendrites, bits but so bright.
Plugging in gaps ever so casual and neatly,
In a manner as to not defeat thee,
Yes she had been betrayed, flayed full bare.
Could she release this anger now? Could she dare?
She had been the victim of a masochist’s fling
This humiliation she was not ready to share.
Contemplation is a heartfelt thing.
Gathered sorrowful ideas in a unique new way.
Determined to obliterate the blight.
Exploded with truth, mighty pen had its say.
She wrote down sad feelings into the night.
Enjoying her perch down by the sea,
And shade of a tiny bonsai tree,
Self feelings smiled, she remembered to care.
She had been lured to an evil one’s lair.
Feelings of worthlessness began to sing.
Forgiveness of self is now parading in air.
Contemplation is a heartfelt thing.
Joined momentarily by a fat hopping blue jay,
She knew what she had penned was amazingly right.
She reveled in daylight sun’s prettiest ray.
Watching the jay ‘til he flew out of sight.
Feeling this instant she was at long last free.
Absolved of blame by God’s glorious sea.
As she wrote it down and began to share,
Her heart was lifted by daybreak’s hopeful air.
Doubts flung out by a David’s giant sling,
Writing was cathartic, easy to bear.
Contemplation is a heartfelt thing.
With a hidey ho and a hey, hey, hey,
She followed her bliss with all of its might.
Her words of truth were now in full display.
She knew she would sleep better that night.
Feelings of relief had overcome thee.
She recovered her soul life down by the sea.
The rest of her life seemed more than a bit fair.
For herself, she again started to truly care.
Warm heart full of hope began to sing.
Possibility of true love now in the air.
Contemplation is a heartfelt thing.
He walked with a swagger,
was a delinquent lagger
and recidivist wagger
all his schoolboy days.
Joyridin on the Pare’ bus
he’d skylark and cuss
just like one of us
as was his way always.
He was undeniably cool
but did shirk at school
and play the fool
from bell to ringin bell.
Widely well liked as a peer
and but for the odd jeer
had nothin to fear
but many a tale to tell.
He oft sat ready in class
but mostly half ar-se
and exams seldom pass
much to his own bane.
Almost always in a scrape
lookin to mock or ape
or some dare or jape
and felt a swingin cane.
He climbed out on a limb
and broke into the gym
then let his friends in
loadin up the bar.
Squattin and pressin away
liftin in the weight bay
‘til fun and horseplay
went a step too far.
He did the flyin fox cling
and leg and arm fling
on the rope swing
with collidin force.
For dear life hands hangin,
blokes fallin and clangin
into each one bangin
on the Confidence Course.
He was a hurler of eggs
and ‘til someone begs
did charlie their legs
but it was all in fun.
A water bomb he’d let fly
when he’d from up high
ambush a passer-by
abscondin on the run.
He his loyal friends also
under the gym below
did hide and stow
lest they all be found.
Then one guy in the loop
would dive thru a hoop
and the rest swoop
should it fall down.
He at lunch hour stood
all innocent and good
but not as he should
policin the tuck shop.
As monitor it was his job
to calm the unruly mob
but never tell or dob
suckin on his lollipop.
He was a classroom pest
out of uniform dressed
on his own little quest
and always in strife.
But in his heart he knew
what he needed to do
and this he would rue
the rest of his life.
He was a master pranker,
some say a wanker
but he did hanker
for somethin more.
Girls thought him sweet
and did fall at his feet
goin crazy for Skeet
but his spell had no cure.
~~~~
Pic above: The old Windsor Park Hotel is
in the background. It is 1977
and we are just 16 years old.
below: With friends below the trees
of Rangitoto College.
Down I go.
On the paths of sheol again.
The rewards of death; my hands regain.
The wheels of the plow of righteousness; i forgot to maintain.
Being led into the desert,
I stagger like one under the influence.
All the while blinded by momentary pleasures.
A walk through the arid land with cold lifeless walls as my compass.
*Surely I have lost it*
These words my mind kept a fix on.
Regurgitating it while the devil's counsel slowly seeped in.
A 'sound advice', like Job's wife, the devil gave.
Urging me to totally quit.
A sweet ballad he played into my ears.
Telling me to embrace hedonism as my new religion.
For I would surely fail in living a perfect life.
He gave me examples.
Yes.
*Your righteousness is as s filthy rag before God*
The accuser of the brethren quoted this scripture for me.
I countered.
Reminding him that self righteousness accounted as sin before God.
Telling him of the uptmost essence of the Jesus's death and grace in salvation.
"No one is perfect"
These words the devil said in retort.
Quoting a popular quip which gave leeway for people to sin.
In despair,
I tried to counter.
For my Christian walk was filled with inconsistent up and down moments.
Like a touchlight with a failing battery,
The light of Christ within me flickered.
HE then came back.
Like a sharp clack amidst deep silence,
I heard His words.
That piercing word of life that erupted joyful tears in me.
For I was a washed out version of my former self.
*My grace is sufficient for you.*
*You have an advocate before the father who pleads your case.*
These words Jesus spoke to me in reply to the devil's condemnation.
*Look unto Jesus the author and finisher of your faith...*
This charge He gave me to cleanse me of all adulteration.
*There is therefore now no condemnation to them who are in Christ Jesus*
This fact He quoted to free me from all allegations.
*Seek ye first the kingdom of God and its righteousness...*
These words He gave to guide my future aspirations.
Once more I cling to the cross.
An abandonment of my fling with death.
A willing stone in the sling of Christ Jesus.
Ready to earn new trophies to bring to His feet.
Laying them down as He calls me a king too, being a joint heir with Jesus.
#Bashorun
Narrow and shallow shining laser focus
into chasm while teetering on brink
akin to scurrying thru microcosmic burrow
of microscopic Manhattan skyscrapers
wink'n nod and blink,
this ace of spades heart (diamond
in the rough) poet digs club billy shallow
sometimes forced to spelunk
thru crawl space chink
hunting down gamesome dodging
catlike whim elusively outpaced,
yet webbed, whorled wide net
nonetheless doth cap cha alive
agile adept idealized rat fink,
which unseen quite quiet mouse notion
gives hardy fellow run for his money,
within scrunched brow mental chase
possibly connected to a preceding pondering
or appearing randomly
viz, non-sequitur conscious kink
said quarry i.e. whimsical thoughts
frequently vanish without a trace
quick as mental cogs and wheels
generate snapchatting, riveting, twittering link
process allowing, enabling, and providing
albeit easily distracting ability
to grasp awesome zinging, lightening,
fleeting brainstorm within windswept
mind space *****sapiens to think
shimmering insight cognizant ability
likening ode on Grecian urn vase
frieze depicting elusive capture
thought process lifespan shorter than a wink
via third eye blind of
comfortably numb beatle browed face
to locate source giving rise
king inducing minor frustration at inability
to nab (albeit painlessly) shimmering zinc
like inception, deception, taking wing
within fifty plus shades swing
and conception of consciousness stir ring
nanobyte size quisling
gray matter housing chromosomal ping
pong pin balling genes summons King
kong of Leon intrigue, jing
gull ling, where disparate
ideas linkedin fling
pollinated neurological network ebbing
and flowing, sans during
writerly blitzkrieg thread ding
provocative point of pinterest bing
proclimation emancipation pensive predilection
to contrive a means and ways
to corral mischievous mental minions
who seem to vanish without a trace
holographic after effect or image evoked
from virtual reality, the latest modality
to pair dime a dozen stray cats re:
untamed cerebral creatures tempting
contemplation to occupy hours.