Long Fluffiness Poems
Long Fluffiness Poems. Below are the most popular long Fluffiness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fluffiness poems by poem length and keyword.
Most imp potent and salient playbook page...
'bout fluffiness of hair after washing
Now get ready for...
yup intelligent persiflage
determining if potty "talk" gauge
correctly calibrated courtesy this sage.
Beats out global warming
by a long stretch
most important commander
must set example you betch
chore life no matter
if miserable wretch
survives impeachable offenses
enough to make me kvetch,
especially four more years
yours truly will once again become
bulimic anorexic wretch.
Versus important crisis
of planet Earth,
where Gaia's bountiful
nature woolworth
analogous wharf resplendent
docks side of ships berth state
housing electricity generating
mined resources inevitable dearth
warming chill folks
courtesy homey hearth
reminiscent during inchoate
fetal nine months
in utero signaling imminent birth.
Quite understandable reasonable,
non negotiable, inviolable...
blah... blah... blah
scalp itching blather
particularly to prioritize
orange-blond hirsute fullness
upon rinsing sudsy shampoo lather
as expressed by this
post baby boomer
pencil neck geek father,
who attempts to walk poetic feet
across cyber sea
miraculously to slather.
Trademark seedy nonsensical
farcical gobbledygook,
perhaps posthumously printing
bestselling blank paginated chapbook
ghost written by Trump
titled Art of the Steal
detailing head and shoulders how to look
suave and sophisticated all business
swiftly tailored harried style shook
White House disguised himself as rook
key "Fake" incognito president
recruiting apprenticed bartered bride
slow vacuuming trophy wife crook
cow hoard milching, kickstarting,
inciting, generating... donnybrook
coiffing pompadour resembling
forefathers windblown periwig.
Nope not even one hair
mussed out of place,
as if teetering fountainhead
supporting Atlas shrugged
top heavy topples
and crashes scattering
bajillion easy pieces everyplace
analogous to humpty dumpty
each and every last vestige
vanishing without a trace
exiting out cloaca
subsequently intently watching
toilet bowl royally flush
clockwise if within northern hemisphere
heavy enough to sink submarine
haint no reason yours truly might gush
even if abominable ballast
saves queasy passengers
plummeting thru aerospace.
Here the sun shines soft and warm—
Caressing all in vales and on hill—
It gives a glow to every inherent form—
And reveals for every eye a thrill.
Of here they never get their fill—
For this is Bliss, an endless treasure—
Where our dream is the Lord’s will—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.
The garden is a lush, green platform—
Big blooms with the fluffiness of chenille—
Songbirds’ music raise a storm—
Their feathered robes fill the bill.
Wings spread they fly away at freewill—
Along the curvy course of the river—
They seek the Lord’s grace with skill—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.
The dream cottage, fancy for the norm—
With a stone paved path to the doorsill—
A neat little shelter from the storm—
Has a spice garden for basil and dill.
And there’s a gazebo for time to kill--
For when gardenwork calls for leisure—
Or even for the blessing of a drizzle—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.
To some this vision may instill—
A yearning for the bliss in nature—
But the Lord is sovereign still—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.
I fly on wing of song.
Twenty-three miles out of Atlanta
soaring like an eagle traveling from DC
thirty-six thousand miles high
Fly, fly away
Through the blue hues of morning
white fluffiness lie below towards earth
puffy white and gray cotton-like softness
gently moving on windsong
feeling like a Welsh princess
watching o’er her universe.
I see the world through a rectangle
looking out over the airplane’s wing
reaching outward and upward.
Soaring like hope
Moving like faith
Solid span of charity
Humming motor onward bound joyful sound
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground
wind under my winged sails
I’m pressing on the upward way.
Arrows painted on wingspan
pointing left as we travel right
viewing “safety line attach point”
feeling secure way up here
three flapjacks adjusting the wind flow
reminding of Father, Son and Holy Spirit
pouring through keeping my soul.
Upward outward incline
continuous motion held by metal strength
while thin white clouds pass by.
Heaven’s sky still far far away
no matter how far up one gets God is farther still
beyond the blue somewhere higher.
Sitting assured as my mind presses on—
landing soon will come
back to earth world
where I belong.
@2011 – Evelyn Pearl Carpenter Anderson
just moments ago, i went online and tapped Google
if some miraculous spell
could be drawn out of thin air
cause (this house husband
feels a bit embarrassed to divulge),
but at present,
the will to live aye cannot bear
cuz after an ample lather of soap and shampoo,
ah pronounced heady effect became immediately clear
where times gone by
(even as late as early January
tooth how sand and eighteen),
the strands clumped, glommed, and matted together
as sieve ma noggin got sat upon by a deer
no matter after shaking head banging fashion
(imagine rock stars of yore
whipping their wild locks) from ear to e'er
butta noah such dizzy inducing antics
resulted in absolutely no fluffiness,
hence my worse fear
(irrational?) yes, an obsession i.e.
thy hirsute outgrowth fixation dated back
tummy boyhood when cranky gear
and defective cogs somehow impacted
preoccupation concerning
every singular follicle fostering hair
strand, but during prepubescence,
this now grown man took a fancy
to this, that, or the other lad,
who sported a style envied yours truly,
hie wished said thatch tubby upon mine
ma lil oblate spheroid,
and pleaded (weathered and in vane)
with fate to make magically ap pear
this, tis minuscule wiggle room
to muster support from rear
guard, hook offer me wiggle room
asthma body electric goes on a manic tear
precious seconds ticking closer
to the final count down where
this mwm might remain bed ridden
for an entire year.
Fallen gods
The scattering embers
with their fading twinkle
danced with the whirling breeze
bemusing all with the falling twilight
with eyes skew to the misty clouds
shaggy with its opaque fluffiness
slowing edging its blankness
eerily shunning the moon
quickening the ending of a phase
a broken sword
with its shattered blade
telling a scattered tale
to the throbbing hearts
beguiled by stolen voices
shammed to a broken reality
frail by the failed quests
wretched with the fallen crest
irk with the broken wings
thrall to an empty throne
resenting the fall from grace
I fly on wing of song.
Twenty-three miles out of Atlanta
soaring like an eagle traveling from DC
thirty-six thousand miles high
Fly, fly away
Through the blue hues of morning
white fluffiness lie below towards earth
puffy white and gray cotton-like softness
gently moving on windsong
feeling like a Welsh princess
watching o’er her universe.
I see the world through a rectangle
looking out over the airplane’s wing
reaching outward and upward.
Soaring like hope
Moving like faith
Solid span of charity
Humming motor onward bound joyful sound
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground
wind under my winged sails
I’m pressing on the upward way.
Arrows painted on wingspan
pointing left as we travel right
viewing “safety line attach point”
feeling secure way up here
three flapjacks adjusting the wind flow
reminding of Father, Son and Holy Spirit
pouring through keeping my soul.
Upward outward incline
continuous motion held by metal strength
while thin white clouds pass by.
Heaven’s sky still far far away
no matter how far up one gets God is farther still
beyond the blue somewhere higher.
Sitting assured as my mind presses on—
landing soon will come
back to earth world
where I belong.
@2011 – Evelyn Pearl Carpenter Anderso
Samuel Taylor Coleridge: Quietude
I fail to coerce the pleasures
of the angular hushed cast that
repose near secret abundance,
an army of cloudy measures.
They dance serenely against less
modest logging near its silence
defense, encountering seizure
as my statuesque poise digress.
Overwhelmed, stood diminutive
in a soundless spread of leisure
as a mime wall layout treasures
of a speechless contributive.
The shadowed wall rises and sinks,
as one tongue-tied formed forty winks,
the whole functionality blinks,
an inaudible show methinks.
Tis unbearable to witness,
pray tell my savior cometh to
provoke a feather to fall and
perplexes an analysis.
I reveal my lamentation
of it intuitively stunned,
the fluffiness whisked e'er so soft
facing the wood-grained foundation.
Creating such a disturbance
of natural elements oft
space and time, that its sheer purpose
o'er the grain gave an appearance.
Twas newsworthy, the faintest hint,
proffered my initial imprint,
that the perceptiveness blueprint,
was a micro-captive reprint.
2020 February 17
Lines to Awaken your Muse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
3. A hasty glance and still my heart leaped up - Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Rhyme Scheme;
abca, dced, feaf, hhhh, abca, dced, feaf, hhhh.
Howmanysyllables;
32 lines x 8 syllables per = 256 syllables total
Eating in a New York diner?
Here’s a little scoop:
You don’t have to be Jewish
To have matzoh balls in soup.
For in this local area
(New Jersey is included),
When soup is on the menu,
Matzoh ball won’t be excluded.
The chicken broth which forms the base
Should have sufficient salt,
Although complaints most often place
The matzoh balls at fault.
In restaurants, they’re often huge.
Most times, just one’s afloat;
But it should have a fluffiness
To fill you, not to bloat.
Though matzoh balls are served in soup
Each day throughout the year,
The only time I eat them’s when
The holiday* is here.
But like that Levy’s rye ad said,
You needn’t be a Jew
To eat some soup with matzoh balls –
Go on, it’s good for you!
So if you’ve never had a taste,
It’s time to wet your whistle.
I guarantee you’ll love it,
Likely more than just a bissel**!
*Passover **Yiddish for a little bit
Eating cake had become my mainstay...
the fluffiness of success and the sweet frosting
of victory
Oh, that sweet, sweet life of mine...
just eating and forgetting the bitter limes
Binging on triple and quadruple layers...
no signs of stopping and no cares
Opulent chins and fat rolls building up...
lethargy and amnesia becoming my death cup
The vegetables and greens of hard work and dedication I forgot....
foolishly, these core essentials I left out to rot
But that sweet taste quickly became bitter with jeers, I can't deny...
'cause last night I was served a nice big slice of 'humble pie
So I'm working out, dieting, and fasting...
henceforth natural whole food long-lasting
Oh my dear Frappe I love you so
Oh my sweet stalker kitty
Your heart just said no
And at the end you were all giddy
My sweet sweet kitty
You were always so funny
The way you almost suffocated the lizard
And it was sad when you died during the blizzard
Oh my dear Frappe I love you so
I love your giant bean toe
I love your fluffiness
I loved your niceness
I love your stalker tendencies
I love that you and the bear were enemies
I love your multi colered eyes
But unfortunely you had to cut ties
Oh my dear Frappe I love you so
I'm so sad you had to go
Oh my dear frappe I love you
I love you so