Long Gushy Poems
Long Gushy Poems. Below are the most popular long Gushy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gushy poems by poem length and keyword.
Hello sweetie, I brought you some flowers
I'm the clown you lovingly call hubby
I know how it makes you all gushy and stuff
When we cuddle up all lovey dovey
It usually leads to some playful smooching
When we caress and I nibble your toes
Have I ever told you how much that excites me
Feelings of passion start to flow
Hope my panting and fussing isn't heard
By the old couple living next door
If they get too excited, they'll probably need
A defibrillator, their heart to restore
But let's get back to me and my sweetie
Smooching and hoochy cooing
It sure turns my crank, puts a tiger in my tank
Absolutely love all this hoopty dooing!
© Jack Ellison 2013
I'm usually known for my silly stuff
But once in a while I surprise
Drooling all over my keyboard and yours
With mushy stuff I fantasize
It's true I sometimes wear more than one hat
Contrary to what you may think
Can be sillier than the silliest damn jester
Then switch as quick as a wink
Become all gushy and mushy and stuff
Talk of pretty flowers and love
Then sure as shootin' it's back to the sillies
Giving your giggler a shove
This back and forth stuff is really dizzying
Imagine if I wrote about dying
Some are obsessed with negative things
If I said that was me I'd be lying
It's not for me that tear jerky stuff
Guess my life's been too damn happy
Not complaining I'm a perky old geezer
Maybe a better word is slaphappy
© Jack Ellison 2012
Neville is a wonderful man, both parties said in a gushy way
He can meet you at the coffee shop nearly any old day
I was not ready to date, and made excuses, one after another
These friends were quite pushy, more than my godmother.
Six months later I agreed to meet this virtuous man.
He is a Viking, but he won’t tell you this, said my old Gran.
He did not have to tell me. His attire spoke for itself.
He was wearing enough armor to line a long shelf.
His beard was enormous, and he had a helmet with horns, two.
His war paint, metal cuffs and a copper shield were a tip off too.
If he is hiding the fact he is a Viking, he is not doing a good job.
We had one thing in common, we both have a neighbor named Bob.
I'm usually known for my silly stuff
But once in a while I surprise
Drooling all over my keyboard and yours
With mushy stuff I fantasize
It's true I sometimes wear more than one hat
Contrary to what you may think
Can be sillier than the silliest damn jester
Then switch as quick as a wink
Become all gushy and mushy and stuff
Talk of flowers and eternal love
Then sure as shootin' it's back to the sillies
Giving your giggler a shove
This back and forth stuff is really quite dizzying
Imagine if I wrote about dying
Some are obsessed with negative things
If I said that was me I'd be lying
It's not for me, that tear jerky stuff
Guess my life's been too bloody happy
Sure not complaining I'm a perky old geezer
Maybe a better word is slaphappy
© Jack Ellison 2015
Glory prizes abound
when your heart shines like the sun.
But let's not get too gushy here.
Or cheesy. Or tacky.
Let's get real: you are your own best motor,
pluggging along towards a fostering joy.
These are facts not whimsies.
(I speak of whimsies in earlier texts,
when I observed fairies clinging to your earlobes
[if you only knew!].)
it's been a warm summer day in Seattle, sure,
and yes, I HAVE been in the garden most of the day,
cleaning gutters and pulling up grass
my girlfriend isn't a fan of.
These labors lie along a path that leads
to a happiness.
The grim grime and flat-out guck,
you find it between the beauty.
You raise it up and tops it
into the big green bin,
amazed at the path you've found
right outside your doorstep.
Breeze, storm, tempest, tornado, wind,
Typhoon, you are named, yes, whirlwind,
Yet, you have well compressed yourself;
In me, into a gasp, named breathe,
Without which I have a mere death,
Thus commanding terms on myself...
I could hear your voice utter once,
In a debate of unique sense,
Your whisper was serene and sweet;
Admirations on you I poured,
As the plants and trees applauded,
In a richly rhythmic movement...
'Lovely you are, I commented,
Lavishly cute, high spirited,
Gracefully sweet is your murmur;
Yet looking into your movement,
I often tend to calculate,
You are a nomad, wanderer...
It's then lightly and politely,
Talking to me rather freely,
You'd told me many a secret;
Authentic, spiritual, pure,
That makes mortals feel sure secure,
Realistic and innocent...
Just like breathing, indeed, breathe's sigh,
And her loyal philosophy,
Fascinating, enlightening;
Nomad, gypsy, and traveler,
Migrant I am and wanderer,
Enthralling, real enchanting...
Yet, my child, have you realized,
I have you in me imprisoned,
And have kept you prompt permanent;
In my nomadically pure,
safe, perennially secure,
life-giving divine little hand…
It's when I had far away moved,
From the gushy maddening crowd,
And started reflecting calmly;
On the breath's bewildering words,
Dawned on me Gautam the Buddha's,
Renunciation theory...
True as the very Truth itself,
Is breath's unique unerring self,
Does the daylight any lie say?
Who upon this earth so divine,
Or under the gorgeous heaven,
Live without breath a single day?
Breathe is in me; I am in Breath,
It's, indeed dead-sure- till my death,
I can never refute this fact;
Breath utters and breath punctuates,
Breath whispers; breath murmurs and sighs,
Breathing is world's unending act...
I got imprisoned in the breath,
When in my mother's divine depth,
I received charming human form;
Knowingly or unknowingly,
Willingly or unwillingly,
I got surrendered in breath's arm...
Breathe has adopted me wholly,
Affectionately, benignly,
Giving me gifts of the Spirit;
Entering in my every nerve,
And my physique's each muscle curve,
Made me melodious flute, lute...
I play on
I am played on
04/27/2021
Writing Prompt - Breathe - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
I was falling ,falling into the gushing rivers,
My eyes stared looking above to the heavens knowing that "This is it",
My goodbye to the world to everything I knew ,Life,Love,Hate. Everything!
Evil pushed me to the edge,The edge of my own Annihilation
Consumed me like that of Poison from a Scorpion,
I couldn't think,I couldn't feel,
All I ever wanted was to be happy,
Was that t much to ask for?
I sat outside on a bench one eerie and cold evening..
I asked myself "why me?"
Why did I have to hurt this way?
Why did I feel like I didn't belong?
I couldn't find my purpose,that calling we all waited and yearn for our entire lives
I didn't feel like anyone loved me ,appreciated me .
It all "sucked",it really did.
I had a plan the only way out.
Out from this "Hell" called my life,
I found a safe zone ,the only place I knew I could be free
Somewhere I can fulfill My dreams,
I starting walking ,walking on the grassy wet path to this place called Dante's River.
I looked down at the gushy waters far belong,
The strong cold wind swayed me a little,
I climb on the ledge holding the ledge,
A new life awaits me,as i looked down
One free of despair and pain.
I closed my eyes as I felt the tears trickled down ,
A sense of fear overcame me,
"I had to !" I said to myself ,
It was the only way,
I let go of the rope,
I felt myself falling ,falling..
From the life I once knew,
My eyes forever closed from my reality,
Reality which I could no longer bare,
My Heart and Soul was weak to much of a burden I had to bare,
But I felt at peace ,Peace from it all that caused this insanity.
Form:
I'm usually known for my silly stuff
But once in a while I surprise
Drooling all over my keyboard and yours
With mushy stuff I fantasize
At times been known to wear different hats
Contrary to what you may think
Can be sillier than the silliest damn jester
Then switch as quick as a wink
Become all gushy and mushy and stuff
Talk of flowers and eternal love
Then sure as shootin' it's back to the sillies
Giving your giggler a tug
This back and forth stuff is really quite dizzying
Imagine if I wrote about dying
Some are obsessed with negative things
If I said that was me I'd be lying
It's not for me, that tear jerky stuff
Guess my life's been too bloody happy
Sure not complaining I'm a perky old geezer
Maybe a better word is slaphappy
Hello sweetie, I brought you some flowers
I'm the clown you lovingly call hubby
I know how it makes you all gushy and stuff
When we cuddle up all lovey dovey
It usually leads to some playful smooching
When we caress and I nibble your toes
Have I ever told you how much that excites me
Feelings of passion start to flow
Hope my panting and fussing isn't heard
By the old couple living next door
If they get too excited, they'll probably need
A defibrillator, their heart to restore
But let's get back to me and you sweetie
Smooching and hoochy cooing
It sure turns my crank, puts a tiger in my tank
Absolutely love all this hooptie dooing!
Heard that love makes the world go round
With the ladies that may be true
But us macho dudes play a different tune
The wee guy downstairs is our cue
To beg and plead for a romp in the hay
We act kinda silly and mushy
Pretending a love song is in our hearts
But our tail light is making us gushy
Let's call the proverbial spade a spade
That wee guy controls us each day
So perky each morning and raring to go
Can't promise a lot of foreplay
We beg and plead, promise the moon
Diamonds and treasures untold
For just a few moments of heavenly bliss
Must hurry the coffee's gettin' cold
She's heard this ploy for many long years
Take it slow she tells me each time
Have developed a liking for real cold coffee
Guess I really can't say that I mind!
© Jack Ellison 2013