Long Jump out Poems
Long Jump out Poems. Below are the most popular long Jump out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jump out poems by poem length and keyword.
The bugs that come out of nowhere
can cause me to easily flinch.
In fact, I’ll jump up in the air
if I see one come just an inch.
Things creepy and crawly – KAPUT!
The bugs that come out of nowhere
will find themselves stomped by my foot.
(Spiders have not got a prayer.)
If an insect lands in my hair,
I’ll nearly jump out of my skin.
The bugs that come out of nowhere
best flee from the room that I’m in!
I’ll swat at them furiously
once they’ve given me a great scare,
for I can’t abide close to me
the bugs that come out of nowhere!
June 7, 2019
Contest: What Makes You Flinch
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
My mind is like a dangerous neighborhood
I try to never go there alone.
I thought that after all this time Id finally grown.
I met a spark that kindled my fire
How quickly it expired.
Enrapturing me in my sleep.
It burned so deep
It burned so deep.
Whispers of wonders invading my perception
Turns out it was self-deception.
I longed to continue in this delusion
But in the end it would be spiritual pollution.
How do I mend what I have done?
The separation has begun,
But the face of an angel lingers in my brain
I never meant to cause any pain.
If I could jump out of my skin and start again
Wisdom would have kept him as a friend..
If only he could have come to my side
Happily we would forever abide.
But reality is a dark hole
And a bleeding soul
A vacant hole
Where many travelers never go.
Once again its chill creeps down my spine
And I release the one I had to leave behind.
By: Sabina Nicole
Sometimes I feel as if I'm going to crack yet somehow I find the strength within myself to bounce back.
I look at her stressed with tears in her eyes my soul wants to jump out of my chest and hug her from inside stitch up her spirits destressing her mind.
I see what she sees it definitely rips me apart inside but I need to remain strong to be her strength be at her side and hold on to her tight.
Mentally drained, Physically exhausted, Muscles are tense, My fist are pounding. Crimson tears are flowing but I gather my thoughts, my strengths and my emotions to keep myself grounded. ™©
By: Shawn Muñoz
It isn't fair but who said life was fair?
To be together but to be apart
There's something wrong happening here
I wish we could go back to the start
Here's what I dream, we are both in our teens
Exploring, it's just the beginning
Our love is brand new and a bright shiny thing
Feeling dizzy our heads are a-spinning
Oh how I wish I could wave a magic wand
Suddenly you're right here beside me
My heart would literally jump out of my chest
I'd hug you and kiss you madly
No one's ever promised me a rose garden
If they did, we two would be one
We'd be living a life of unparalleled bliss
Together, greeting the morning sun
Crannies in Time
Resting beneath a pile of silken scarves and soft kid gloves -
Hatboxes filled with old tweed caps, cuff links bearing long lost crests,
A leather box – a jewelry case – opened to reveal a ballerina’s spinning grace,
To release a mania of memories, popping up like popcorn, as if they waited
To jump out - surprise conspiring to astonish eyes of wonder;
Travelers in time, arms of welcome pointing to a portal for hearts returning
With startled souls among the murals painted on their walls in time indelible,
Revisit wrinkles in eternity where moments recline -
Retell events re-formed by memories cast in sterling,
Linked by silver circles showcasing milestones days, precocious pets,
Musicals with wishing wells, a lovers vow, frayed dancing shoes,
Milestone birthdays, skis for winter, umbrellas for a city clothed in rain,
Side by side with souvenirs, states with nicknames stamped on their backsides
Collections, a crowded patch of rambling flowers scampering up a garden wall
Poking through the tiny crannies left by minutes flying by in streamers flowing,
Daylight merging into starlight - midnight gliding past each dawn -
Captivating charms guarding sacred spaces where treasures abide
Now seen through cracks in time, amid the winds with hands of ice,
Hearts welcomed back to reflect in sanctuaries warm
With new eyes that once searched for ghosts of meaning –
Specters - understanding - come in focus.
Hope, that has kept me alive
Hope, that has kept me sane
Hope, that made me insane
Hope, that allows me to breathe
Hope, that suffocates me
Hope, that my child survives
Hope, that makes me breathe
Hope, that the sun shines tomorrow
Hope, that it rains on time
Hope, that the birds wake up again
Hope, that I am alive tomorrow
Hope, that my body doesn’t rot
Hope, that you exist
Hope, that our eyes met
Hope, that you shared what i felt
Hope, that I will make it through
Hope, that I won’t jump out of a building tomorrow
Or take rat poison or gas myself
Hope, that things don’t turn too much
Hope, that I make it through
Hope, that I will wake up again
Hope, that you will read this
Hope, that I am dead
Hope, that I am alive
Hope, that my dead body still breathes
Hope, that I don’t kill myself tomorrow
Lights flashing
amongst the darkness
Boats comming back home
or just sleeping
to jump out to another adventure.
The happy dock smiles
to everyone.
After the years,
it witnesses happiness
and sadness.
Men leaving for earning
their life
and never came back
or by the way,
people that come
for enjoying their life.
Many grew up with white hair
waiting for the beloved ones
to come back.
Others have gone
and they conquered
other docks far away.
Easy to stroll by the boats,
difficult to find out where to go.
Walking on the dock,
it's easy
to sail on our imagination.
Smelling fish
awakes our senses
not far from the dock
where ny boat is stuck
between
the dock and the ocean
to keep on sailing.
I always wake up angry.
Every time.
Every single solitary time.
I'm not joking.
And I jump out of bed enraged.
Sophie Dog wakes up angry too.
She growls at me, as I pull her covers off.
I wouldn't have to do that if she would give me a little space,
but she doesn't.
Butt to butt we sleep.
I go to the bathroom and she taps down the hallway toward the doggie door.
uh-oh. The light is on.
This means we've got company.
It's 3:30, the witching hour, why is the warlock up?
I tiptoe to the kitchen, hoping to make my coffee and sneak back to my
word processor before he catches me.
After fifty years together, he still wants snuggles.
In the morning?
I don't even want to see his face or talk to him.
I get back to my desk without a hitch.
Then I hear his office door open.
Talk. Talk. Talk. Talk.
Did he forget I'm not a morning person?
I drink two sips of coffee, but it's not enough.
My voice yells, "I'm counting!"
I'm always counting.
Syllables.
Wonderful. Three.
Perpendicular. Five.
Phonetically. Four.
Silence.
Warlock's footsteps go away.
I'm such a witch in the morning.
I even despise myself.
Confidence parades around in this sanctuary
The Reverend blesses them
Maybe me too
He tries anyway
But can I accept it?
Do I believe it?
My faith is gone.
Am I the only sinner here?
I look around for other sinners.
Not any obvious contenders.
Families touching each other in a lovely way
Opening hymnals, singing with faith.
I put my mask on.
I do not belong.
The sermon is about Jesus accepting everyone.
I think he means Christians
Not sinners like me.
There is an invitation.
Everyone is welcome.
I would have to share my true self.
I would have to let them know what a sinner I am.
They keep inviting and inviting.
I jump out of my seat as if I was shot out of a revolver.
Is the love of Jesus enough?
And who sent me up here?
I stare into the stained glass window.
Jesus is opening a door.
I am entranced.
Terrified, but entranced.
The reverend shakes my hand.
He says some words I do not recognize.
I have no idea how I got here.
Who propelled me out of my seat?
Jesus winks from the glass.
If I were your fantasy man
I’d welcome the morning alarm.
I’d jump out of bed, put my coveralls on,
Match each sleeve of my shirt with an arm
And I’d get on the road, gladly carry the load,
If I were your fantasy man.
You’d e-mail inviting me to take your clothes off
And give you a hot oil massage, if I were your fantasy man.
If I were your fantasy man,
This job wouldn’t be such a drag.
I’d whistle and smile while I worked in the heat;
Eat my lunch from a brown paper bag.
I’d be so damn inspired, hell, I’d never get tired
If I were your fantasy man.
You’d e-mail enticing me with sweet seductions,
While wishing it all would come true, if I were your fantasy man.
If I were your fantasy man
I’d never be lonesome or low.
I’d be dreaming of you fondly dreaming of me;
You’d be with me wherever I go.
I’d take comfort in faith that my trust was well placed
If I were your fantasy man.