Long Icky Poems
Long Icky Poems. Below are the most popular long Icky by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Icky poems by poem length and keyword.
In my youth, I made
A bubble gum ball . . .
That over time just got bigger and bigger, usually.
It was sticky icky, just like me.
It splattered perfectly onto the wall . . .
The bubble gum wall!
That over time became a work of Art.
Always getting bigger, usually.
Also, a great filler for holes, I’m told.
It also sticks great on bark, and behold,
The bubble gum tree!
Every childhood should have one.
That tree on the walk to school,
Or in the park next to the playground,
Or next to the community pool.
So everyone can share.
But, if you left your ball at home,
Already passed the wall, missed the tree,
There was always that spot under your desk,
Or perhaps that forgotten tuck behind the ear.
Of course, the cute girl two rows up,
Blew the most wonderful, beautiful bubbles.
And when they’d pop, everyone in class knew.
She’d just smile with sticky all over her face.
I, and every other pubescent male, just wanted to pick it off.
No, lick it off would be more correct.
And chew her gum gum ‘til the end of time.
Though, she, and many of the girls, had their own, very own
Bubble gum box.
I prefer freshly wrapped store-bought gum.
All those artificial flavors and “natural” sugars,
They’re the best! Yum!
Mom always bought us Dental Gum.
She claimed it was good for our teeth.
Though, it’s practically impossible to blow bubbles.
But I was never one to pass up a freebee,
Especially when I was broke, which was most of the time.
In my youth,
I always had gum in my mouth.
And I never needed money to buy my own.
If my pockets were empty (which was most of the time) . . .
There was always the ball, the wall, the tree, or the desk.
A quick check behind the ear, just in case I forgot.
If it got stuck in my hair, then probably not.
I don’t have a box, that’s for girls.
I have something better. . .
A bubble gum world!
Springtime easing into summertime
Euphoric she was in her prime
She had mountains to climb
Dreams of a lifetime
Magnificent and sublime
T’was when she ran into a mime
In the midst of his pantomime
Trying to make a nickel and dime
This distraction turned out to be a crime
Just some icky slime and grime
In the meantime losing track of time
So much to do before bedtime
To take advantage of clement clime
Better moving overdrive into overtime
Before daytime turned to nighttime
T’was then she heard the chime
While she was still in her prime
Still had those mountains to climb
And all those dreams of a lifetime
Magnificent and sublime
AP: 3rd place 2020
Solitary spaces for lost thoughts,
images betwixt that intervene,
found in iks, ends and even eens;
in between what may not have been
of this land we've often seen.
In innocence cross seas of sky,
pull pearls from pockets in the mind.
Search for the hidden reasons why
where wanton thoughts are left behind.
If one sits still too long and stares
and sinks deep down in icky ink
only slips, slides or swerves in verve -
but bumps into dark doublethink!
Some see how to turn on the lights,
points on star tips keep getting bright.
Watch wonders never seen before,
where there's no rule, wrong or right.
Try close listening, hear the ticks
crowded cricket strums from the sticks
of words that rhyme or songs to time.
Kindly look through one lone haiku
that tiny crack with views anew.
Rhyme 22 Lines 143 Words
(Dedicated to Christel Pilson)
This jester has been un-jester-like lately
Gushing with loving thoughts
What has happened to this happy old jester
Acting like a teenager with the hots!
My icky gooey soft side is showing
Try to keep it hidden from view
But it overtakes me once in a while
Not to blame, plead innocent, I do
I'm feeling a bit icky gooey right now
Trying hard to resist, it's true
But don't blame me if it pops up again
Trying hard, that's all I can do
Guess I'll just let the sweet love flow
Funnies will be left to brood
Just for while till it's out of my system
And I'm rid of this loving mood
Perhaps NEVER!!!
© Jack Ellison 2013
ICKY, SUCKY, YUCKY
???????????????
wheezing, sneezing; allergy in my throat
darn green mucus pasted in my hair,
steroids tumbling down on chest
and “no- bath -for -days” anywhere!
mites and dust in rinsed fingernails
fever flushing through these dead toes,
and whacking sinus drips much yuckier
floating from my from dry , red nose!
emergency rooms now daily visits for me
oxygen masks, x-rays and tests for clean piss ,
yipers, my new honey's coming around to check
this surely sucks, don’t wanna be kissed!!
:
Free from the frigid grip of winter's blow
we enter a time of hay fevers and colds
Though April showers help the flowers grow
they can be unkind, to creaky bones of old
The frosty cheeks of children everywhere
are pinned against a dirty window pane
The pristine snow of white has lost its glare
replaced by icky puddles and wet terrain
Spring, ...its not all about roses and shine
there are days when it rains and pours all day
She weaves herself around winter's entwine
and often leaves the earth too damp for play
I rather be making snow angels in the snow
then waiting and watching, for flowers to grow
Feb 24, 2023
Sponsor Michelle Faulkner
Contest Name Spring Is Not All
I’ve figured out that I’ve been lying to myself
Leaving all of my worries in the top shelf
The thud in my heart – it isn’t that reassuring
Don’t inhale the flames in your burning heart…
Or you’ll hurt yourself
Don’t come across the icky fumes of fire-feeding lies
Your gaze locks into my own –
I’m still subject to your suffering
I’m slowly dying…though I’ll keep trying
Absolutely no one in the world can stop me from subsiding
You have a beautiful soul,
At first glance, I noticed your angelic features,
Decorated eloquently in your affectionate eyes
Do you abide with the peace-abiding angels?
You are more precious than posh, rare jewels . . .
~~Chorus~~
Give me a chance to overcome
These waves of emotions
Understand my situation
Don’t pay attention to the commotion
I see you in secret,
Skipping with pride and unspoiled vitality
While I’m… frozen forever
Livin’ this life guilt-free is impossible in my case…
Save me from the monsters, spewing out sinister lies
~~~~~~~
Your screams fail to reach my ears
You won’t hear me cry aloud
These tears were bottled up inside for years
I just wanna scream out loud!
Turn the wheel in my mind’s eye – I’m overflowing with guilt and horror –
Don’t let the tide of terror sweep over me with woe
Open wide your mouth
Let me fill it in with words of pure, inviting insight,
Not distasteful remorse
Let's SEE What's in the laundry hamper?
" One a soiled cloth diapers
a fierce icky stinkysocks
some noxious obnoxious unclean towels
horrid stinking under-shorts
unappetizing horrible awful grubby baby bibs
Oh, my some mephitic nauseating obscene panties.
Musty nauseating odious under shirts
soiled squalid uncleanly pants and jeans
awful dirty filthy blouses and dresses
guess I’d better presoak and presort some of this mess???
9/27/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
I hate to work. I do deplore
each tedious and awful chore.
Inside the house and outside too,
I hate to work. I really do!
I hate to have to mop my floor
and what a nasty wasty chore
to scrub the toilet. Icky poo!
I hate it so much. Don’t you too?
The inside of the oven. OH!
Black crusty junk – I hate it so!
I scrape and scrape that crusty crap.
I might as well just take a nap.
The crap will not come off. Oh my!
I stomp my feet and want to cry.
I look around at all the work
I ought to do but want to shirk.
I have a life; there is no time
for grease and grime, for sludge and slime.
I want to turn and run away
or go downstairs online to play.
So many things I’d rather do -
like sit and write a poem or two.
I want to call a friend and chat
or play with dog, or pet my cat!
I’d even rather pet a mouse
than ever have to clean my house.
I hate to work and though I should,
the truth is that I’m just no good.
No housework talent have I got
When young, I was not too-well taught.
Spots or wrinkles on my clothes -
I cannot even get out those.
My mother LOVED to clean, so she
did all the housework, leaving me
to go outside, play in the sun,
and not come home till she was done!
I only like work in my head.
No broom for me. Give me instead
a pen – the one tool I can wield.
Just let me work inside my field!
I paid a lot to go to school.
To work outside the home is cool!
I want to work if I get paid!
But in my house I need a maid.
Yes, let me work inside my head
and not with fingers that have bled
from kneeling, scraping at the floor!
Each day I hate work more and more.
My funds are low, so on my own
I have to clean my house alone.
TV and popcorn have to wait.
I have to do that work I hate!
March 15, 2019 for Michelle Faulkner's Honoring Dr. Seuss Poetry Contest
(Inspired by his poem: I Love My Job!)
new song/poem! :)
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I look outside my window
Watch the rain fall down like tears
Hoping that someday
It’ll wash away my fears
But they never clear
They never go away
And they haunt me every single minute
Of every single day
Maybe someday
This will all just turn to dust
I’ll just do what I need—
Just do what I must…
Without you
Without you
Here
Find it in your heart
To have a little care
Find it in your heart
To know that I am there
Find it in your heart
I know you think I’m strange
But find it in your heart
To believe that I can change
With you
With you
Here
I write this down in sadness
Wishing you can see
Knowing that none of it
Makes sense to you or me
And there’s nothing here
There’s nothing I can say
To make the clouds depart
And the icky mood to fade
I hope that someday
When I am old and gray
I’ll just laugh a sigh and wonder:
What the hell was wrong with me?
Find it in your heart
To see me through the pane
Find it in your heart
To unchain me from this chain
Find me in your heart
I know that I am young
But find it in your heart
To make me someone
Forever—
And ever
Your shining sun