Long Fruit fly Poems
Long Fruit fly Poems. Below are the most popular long Fruit fly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fruit fly poems by poem length and keyword.
Tick-tock of a clock lasts a fraction of moment,
Yet, makes me cognizant of the moments potent;
The dewdrop that glistens from the tip of a leaf,
Though its life is a second or minute so brief...
The mayfly lives, kissing the lamp, a day or less,
Yet, that makes itself as happy as none could guess;
Fruit fly survives fourteen days as a total whole,
Egg to larva, pupa, the adult with a goal...
The Pantry pests, Luna moths, ant-drones and houseflies,
Each lives with no complaints and dies with no outcries;
Parrot, crow, pigeon, sparrow, eagle, and vulture,
Who have, earning the food they eat, as their culture...
Clean air, soothing sounds, and the beauty of nature,
A beam of sunlight and gleam of gentle gesture;
Relishing memories; cherishing warm events,
Sun basking, Moon baking, Stargazing calm moments...
The holiness of motherhood; Fatherly care,
Fraternal love and mutual concern we share;
I cannot just tell, indeed, what does not touch me,
Devoid of these touches, can I ever be me…?
17 July 2021
Touch My Heart Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
My heart is bound with twin-distressed grommets
But every night I look up at the sky Waiting for a comet.
My eyes fixate and focus before they leak like faucets
And I glance up, I zealously try
To spot it, the elusive comet.
My fate seems tangled in spider webs
Where I'm the fruit fly awaiting demise
The anxiety flows, the panic ebbs
I hope I pass away before I realize....
Yes, I hope I die before I realize
Maybe the comet is never to come
It's Halley's comet I want before my eyes
And the outliving odds are zero to none....
...
My heart is bound with ever-loosening grommets
It feels ever so often, it's being taunted
But still I await, albeit halfheartedly,
I still await my comet.
Fruit Fly, Cockroach, Random Lie Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity sis-boom... bye.
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, just like that, I am gone, after living out, like water up the spout it's all days gone bye.
Like a riddle, It's long, it's short, it goes by quick, after all, is said and done we don't really give a lick.
Chased the dream until I screamed, some attained, some elusive but at a price that is utterly too abusive.
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity sis-boom... sigh.
We just leave as we should because it's time, time for God's next trick. Rich man, poor man it don't matter none we have had our fill and our fun.
Next man up, fasten your seatbelt it's quite the ride, don't want to fall until it's your time to die........
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity... my oh my!
Everything true was just mere lies, some more, some less but lies nonetheless, deceived, distressed, completely undressed.
What to think, what to say, when all of one's beliefs are taken away, press pause? restart? reboot you say? It's all a bit late, it's all rather moot, wouldn't you say?
It's all very odd to begin the decline when everything seems strangely fine? It all weighs so heavily though on your mind.
Best not to think, just do! try to win each day as it's all anew. It's good, it's bad, it's happy, it's sad, my son calls me dad so I'm not feeling mad, just happy to be and, not, not be and to be as long as I possibly can be. Is that the answer? maybe? we'll see.......
Fruit fly, cockroach, random lie, here we go eternity... Please don't cry
For we die each night, Born again every day, take it or leave it, it's better that way. Take it!, take it, I say, try to make it just one more day, what more can one possibly say, but be thankful for just one more precious day.
Like the common fruit fly and cockroach, our life span is but a blink of an eye before we die, just minutes off the cosmic clock of which we have no apparent key to its eternal lock
I long for the end of perverse MAGA malice
Led by the immoral, they are cold and callous
They have caused such disdain
Since Trump's menacing reign
While he sits inside his Mar A Lago palace
How daft the man to assume he owns everything
Documents and White House dishes he chose to sling
Ketchup thrown against the wall,
Trumpty is ready to fall
Shot down by his arrogance. Ow, how that must sting
He's such a libertine, and wickedly corrupt
When not getting his way, his temper will erupt
But now he's gone too far
According to Bill Barr
But Dumpy Trumpty will never ever fess up
I hope he won't have need to don that damned red tie
An orange suit he may not wear, and I'll decry
He should be an inmate
Enemy of each state
And more loathsome than the insect, we call 'fruit fly'
Some of you make fun of Biden's slips due to age
I prefer that man to an ogre filled with rage
One who defies the law
has a deep-seated flaw...
The Republican elephant on a rampage
Oh say, people, please tell me why you cannot see
how politician's lies have become so beastly
Don't bite Trump's baited hook
Stop believing that crook
He's the cause of conflicts on a family tree
Relief courtesy dreaded (re:) inspection not revisited until May 2022
Anticipatory anxiety put on high alert
when the warden gave less than a week
courtesy spluttering tone of voice
she did angrily blurt
nsync with her usual persona
being wickedly curt
treating us (myself and missus) like dirt
gloating in our writhing adversity
poor, sharecroppers, no matter yours truly indigent
no matter exhaustive effort I do exert
to secure living income/wage, thus flirt
with visions of illusions grandeur
analogous to taut pulled belt girt
tightly around psyche whereby temple hurt
with unbearable agony
rendering these lovely bones inert.
Grosse and Quade Management
at 2 Highland Manor Apartments
with Jackie Geiger at the helm
finds yours truly afflicted with weak
praise, cuz she left us
(meself and the missus)
in figurative darkness,
whereby I electronically bellow and shriek
silently critiquing as if writing op/ed
for Time magazine and/or defunct Newsweek
perhaps under heading summarizing healthweek,
which hypothetical issue possibly considered
virtual collector's item
and subsequently unreal antique.
Nevertheless said rich daddy's princess
forewarned yours truly and spouse
dated June 24th, 2021,
quoted verbatim as follows:
Dear Mr. & Mrs. Harris
Due to your recent annual inspection,
we will be re-inspecting
your apartment on Tuesday, June 29th
from 11am-4pm.
We will be conducting
the inspection to ensure
you are making progress
cleaning your apartment,
especially your kitchen and bathroom areas.
We also want to keep up
with eliminating your fruit fly issue
in your apartment.
The above date came and went
(as did two other recently lapsed dates),
we never got notified
approximately five year tenant
logically concluded - and anger pent
up inside furious enough
methinks gross analogy when
twenty eight National Guardsmen
fired their weapons at a group
of anti-war demonstrators at Kent
State On May 4, 1970,
now mine poem attains completion extent.
Somewhere between an in and out wave,
my boat broke; it's an essential
scaled down vessel of my body -
I become somewhat alarmed.
Water being almost always in a fluid state
did the unexpected and played dead.
It attained a most unusual state
of neck down paralysis
and so, head moving left and right
yet frozen beneath,
(assuming there was a beneath),
I remained trapped upwards,
caught like a fruit fly in a glass of merlot.
The boat, though riddled with holes,
sinks only to the gunnels yet plows on,
gliding gracefully upon a moon-path
toward a moon that had hid its face under
a soggy pillow.
By now I could hear the bed creaking
under the strain of being nudged
by several icebergs.
‘I am not a fruit fly’, I shouted,
as a rising sun
raced to a corner of the bedroom
to watch my dreaming brain
struggle up to the level of its eyes
while I reluctantly bobbed
in the stale undercurrent
of that fourth unwise
glass of red wine.
I’m just like the last fruit in a bowl of fruit.
Now it’s just a bowl of me.
Magical thinking works like a toaster.
Just pops like it hurts and it might if it catches on fire with my mind.
Good riddance to people who know my number and I wish they would never call me.
I wish “good riddance” actually got rid of things, it actually collects more intrusive thoughts.
I’m just like the last fruit fly who pretends to hate fruit.
I’m still buzzing around, you know?
Alone but it’s not random.
Random like people who live near me.
That would have been friends in the other time line.
I’m really different from a fly somehow.
I like coffee and I usually can’t climb the ceilings.
But when I see myself.
I’m just a bowl of me.
Dark shadows akin to edge of night
affected by massive infestation of
Drosophila melanogaster light
(scientific name as
same itty bitty
winged flitting nuisance ignite
mentioned in title) besieged,
inundated, and thickly swarmed
dost primp and pretty
fie themselves (to
attract a witty
mate) during their
40 to 50 days city,
or suburban life
cycle long enough
to qualify for this
quickly written ditty
seemingly overnight
a bajillion biz zee
buzzing adults (each
about 1/8 inch long see
their world wide web,
thru at least one
unusual red eye,
which compound eye
of the fruit fly
contains 760 unit
eyes or ommatidia,
well nigh
hapt tubby one of the most
advanced among insects,
where Google search
for home remedies aye
didst find to exterminate
these teeny weeny pests,
plus informational pursuit my
instantaneous curiosity yielded
above mentioned
esoteric tidbits,
sans accidentally disc
covered helpful good riddance
material of household ingredients
restraining me to breathe sigh
of dollop, and hope to try
one or more solutions,
which informed
this amateur entomologist -
listed forthright as:
1.Create a trap by mixing
apple cider vinegar
with a few drops of dish soap.
2. Another home-made trap is to
pour leftover red wine into a jar.
3. Mash up banana slices in a jar, and
cover top with a plastic wrap.
4. Pour bleach solution
into bathroom sink.
Carrying a sleeping baby.
Cleaning after a successful party.
Camping beyond mountains more mountains.
Playing trumpet on the streets of New York City.
Eating although the food supply is deeply compromised.
Flying with Democrats and Republicans, evangelicals and atheists.
Flying like a fruit fly that won’t quit mating.
Cool as a hummingbird in the stream’s wet spray.
Abstaining wholly, absent from worldly life.
Two dogs fighting but not biting hard.
Chanting as if the planet were mending.
Gourmet dining, devout prayer, loving Mary.
Evenings watching tv. Scotch and Star Trek.
Taking off Emily Dickinson’s clothes.
Meeting in the meeting house, arguing and praying.
Planning a legacy as if you knew enough to control events.
Pursuing happiness as a naturalist or humanist.
Spinning with the planet, performing the history that surrounds us.
Killing many Germans, saving many Jews.
Doing less until one thing’s done well.
Fainting from staring at candles through stained glass windows.
Morning, a billion trillion nuclear detonations per second warming your
bones.
Manipulating symbols, solving equations.
Disregarding tweets and facebook persuasions.
Sitting with a tiny Buddha by a rushing stream cutting a gorge.
Running, disciplining myself, making myself healthy.
Ingesting drugs, throwing die, drinking sludge.
Growing varicolored corn.
Participating in the cause because it’s impossible not to participate in
the effect.
Running over a chipmunk, groundhog or a skunk.
Lying face down in the emergency room facing doom.
Waking up Monday thinking Sweet Saturday! but soon remembering your
trick knee.
Turning the towering young thunder of my anger against my sons.
Regretting the callow dispassion with which I met my parents’ quietus.
Lawn mowing, leaf blowing, yapping dogs, napping old people.
No jets but a rooster mornings, cows and goats.
Al is painting an apartment. Sirma is cleaning the floors. Felix is taking
out the garbage.
Deciding tentatively I slightly prefer Heifetz’ to Oistrakh’s Sibelius.
No cedar waxwings, no chickadees, but beautiful moon!
If you’re alone as you get, why are you crying?
Futile effort to plunger the clogged kitchen sink...
courtesy malfunctioning garbage disposal
which won't be removed
by onsite maintenance man
UNTIL/UNLESS
fruit fly excreta wiped off
(impossible to access)
areas along bathroom and kitchen walls
so communicated "the warden."
Thus we (yours truly and his missus)
subjected to inhale
putrid, offal, and noxious
smelling stagnant water
until every streak
telltale sign regarding Drosophila melanogaster
exuded excretory evidence
vanishes without a trace
vis a vis thru cutting
qua yellow elbow grease.
Aforementioned hardy critter
approximately three millimeters in length
and two millimeters in width
one defiant little bugger
proliferate - reproductive propensity
of fruit fly enormous
under ideal circumstances
female lays about 500 eggs
impossible mission to exterminate
or extinguish pesky species
without declaring total mortal kombat,
and even then
no guarantee targeted
above named mite size bug
nsync with his/her brethren
blown to smithereens.
Despite all pervasive existence
plus ingress into mine nasal passage
as nostril dam us foretold
annoyance on par with midges
flying up into nose
far more tolerable
synonymous with lesser of two evils
versus exhausting these lovely bones
tirelessly suctioning refuse
pooling fetid water.
I will seriously ponder
posting gofundme site
as a last ditch effort
to escape nauseating
effluence out the plumbing bowels
worse smell than rotten Gotham
sliding down into behavioral sink
if management here
at Highland Manor Apartments
decrees fiat all secretion
indeed linkedin with fruit fly eliminated.