Long Frisk Poems
Long Frisk Poems. Below are the most popular long Frisk by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Frisk poems by poem length and keyword.
You've heard of the children of the corn
This my friend is much scarier than that
Here to make sure you eat all your vegetables
Adults of the Asparagus
Set in a quaint New England town
Could be in any novel by Stephen King
Making sure both the young and the old
Eat their veggies raw, sauteed, or steamed
They'll make you sit by yourself at the table
With the dog behind the door when they lock it
Before you leave the table they'll frisk you
And have you empty out all of your pockets
You will shudder with butter on the side
Salting to taste if you must
Making sure you eat every last bite
Adults of the Asparagus
Eating vegetables can be scary!
Give me but some music
- in heavens empty hours -
a piece of song, giddy-paced
and innocence for innocence
I’m a horse that never tires
While a cup of wine
makes light airs
and merry hearts
It too can unyoke the humour of the immature,
“So, wait, you think if you say a few right things
I’ll let you on it?”
Ha! No I won’t
you weak spirit
I see right through you
Oh, I’m not lily-white of hue,
I’m more the colour of blood red roses
But that one there, *pointing*
he relieves my passion
see this ring?
I frisk for him
.
.
Songs for this:
We'll Sing In the Sunshine by Thornbirds
Landslide (feat. Gwyneth Paltrow) - Glee Cast
Snowbird by Rani Arbo & Daisy Mayhem
A far away flash splits the sky
Howler rouses a gentle sigh
Fury taps lightly at the door
“I promise,” says Howler, “My breath stands at war.”
Birds flying high, fish swimming free
Flee to your homes, school to deep sea
Soar singing loud, dart without care
“I promise,” says Howler, “My breath plays unfair.”
Creatures on land, man working strong
Take heed, my wrath shows before long
Animals frisk, man wipes his sweat
“I promise,” says Howler, “My breath deals a threat.”
Wavy bluegrass, towering trees
Hunker down quick, take cover please
Fescue search far, tall willows gaze
“I promise,” says Howler, “My breath sparks a blaze.”
Billowing clouds, dark as a scowl
Howler’s deep moans turn to a growl
Angels cry loud, pouring down rain
“I promise,” says Howler, “My breath goes insane.”
Birds sweep away, ocean pure power
Man hides below, animals cower
Fescue bends down, tall willows weep
“I warned you,” howls Howler, “My promises I keep.”
A few yellow leaves, diminutive bless.
The subtle birth of Fall— my eyes impress.
Verdant green—deep visual for my dreams.
The season’s frisk—Jack Frost snips at the seams.
Soon the froth of frisky leaves, everywhere.
The flamboyant tango, showering flair.
And oh…the burning Autumnal passion—
the sizes and shapes, bittersweet fashion.
I forget my bathing suit, bundle up,
vigorously jump into loving cup
of apple cider, pumpkin pie and leaves.
Season’s change, cheeky-warm, with knitted sleeves.
10/6/2021
Men in tailored suits
and satin waistcoats,
gold watches peeking
out of their pockets,
walked arm in arm
with women in wide skirts ~
hooped,
crinolined,
elegantly sculpted.
Their tight corsets tease each careful traipse,
leaving traces of elegance and opulence...
dotting the streets at Christmastime
with exaggerated silhouettes.
They kissed under mistletoe ~
hung in doorways,
each kiss claiming a berry
until none were left.
Saliva dried from whispered promises,
and crisper breaths.
When mouths moistened anew,
their laughter spilled under winter's sun,
burning with the thrill
of ice-skating parties.
Half-empty plates of Christmas pudding,
roast meats and other festive dishes —
littered Victorian tables,
attesting to well-fed tummies
and indulgent hearts.
Back home, the evening evened
with silent acting charades,
Blind Man's Bluff, Forfeits, and Snapdragon.
Pass the Slipper, Piggy Squeak, and Hunt the Ring ~
played near wood-burning fireplaces,
transformed by Christmas
into coziness, family warmth
and seasonal magic.
Christmas trees stood adorned,
strategically placed
to frisk each risk of its sly trick
that might sneak out
to steal away their joy.
When the gift boxes were opened,
the fiancé received
smoking caps,
shaving soaps,
and tobacco pouches.
The fiancée unwrapped
doilies,
silver tea balls,
and tea strainers ~
simple treasures exchanged
beneath candlelit ceilings
in that age of elegance,
where laughter and love lingered long,
like the scent of pine needles and roast goose,
long after Christmas Day had passed.
The lamp that invokes the dusk,
A splendid natural frisk,
Eccentric among the constellation of stars,
Concealing your char to the view from Mars.
Masking your beauty with the darker clouds,
Blushing away from the denser crowd,
Calming the Earth with the cooling rays,
The land that was warmed up in many ways.
Beetling in the sky,where none can arrive,
Thy captivating vision makes us revive!
Shattering the differences and detachments,
Entrusting, we are under the same sky of bondings and attachments
The enthralling "Prima Donna" of the lovely night, Thou !!!
To you, I make a bow !!!!
Oh, the stress-free, carefree world of children
O' take me back to the lil kids' playpen
When we tried on mom's cosmetics and lipsticks
and built playhouses with plastic blocks and bricks
And had fun with cooking set picnics
Anything could be a toy
and our racket could annoy
We turned everything into play things
We played pretend queens and kings
We then played 'mom and dad'
Oh the squealing fun we had!
Teasing, chasing hens and kittens
climbing the grumpy neighbour's fence.
There was paper airplanes
and frisking in the rains
Paper boats too were made
and hide'n'seek was played
And when that wasn't enough
we played blind man's bluff.
We nimbly climbed the trees
hair flailing in the breeze
But our child's play naturally mimicked the grownups
Lil plastic ones instead of real porcelain cups.
Life was all play and games
in our growing mental frames.
Sand castles and kites
childish fights and frights!
And kind parents just let them frisk and play
for all work and no play makes one a dull boy
People pass on foot or bike
Or skateboard, wheelchair, scooter,
While chatting, singing, texting
Via iPhone or computer.
While in the sky the birds take wing –
The pigeons, seagulls, sparrows,
A few in pairs as if they’d felt
The sting of Cupid’s arrows.
Beneath the river, I presume
Are lots of local fishes,
Which swim and rarely do fulfill
The anglers’ fervent wishes.
Between the bushes and the trees
The squirrels frisk and scurry
And sometimes mice or rats join in,
But always in a hurry.
A sunny day out in the park
With life around me teeming;
If not for masks on every face,
I’d think I might be dreaming.
They fling, frisk and frolic across my mind
one breath two breaths so on so forth
They romp, revel and rollick enshrined
one thought two thoughts so on so forth
They jink, jovial and joyful light as air
one idyll thought after another in my nest
They bounce, beg, behold without a care
perusing in my loft without a quest
They mate, mesh and move into me
one breath two breaths I let them flow
They sit, settle and seduce me their free
empty as a shell I yolk them, then let them go.
September 16, 2021
Sponsor : John Lawless
Contest Name: Idyll Thoughts
Written: October 12, 2023
Cinquain Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Ink Empress
______________________________________________________
Guile gust
I grasp your gasp
goad grafts gently glowing
the gray grove greenery growing
glean grace
Skies Straight
I snared your sight
Schizoid swing of Steward
sewn souls spewing as oxblood stems
stark stance
Wince, wight
I've weaned your whiff
the world-wedged wink was wrapped
while not washing down the wild waft
when whet
Froth flow
your frisk frame flits
follow fall foliage
freshly framed flimsy fruity field
faint flame.
Sand stake
of smog steam sieve
you stride in silence steps
by slamming a skulker-shaped slope
spread string.