Long Piggyback Poems
Long Piggyback Poems. Below are the most popular long Piggyback by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Piggyback poems by poem length and keyword.
Did I see an alter ego twirling round the edges of a microscopic slide
or just another doughnut cell the crosshair must endure?
The answer surely lies upon the fractal shoulders of a dinosauric factor tree I’ll certainly become.
Where looping lens intrudes on self-mirage,
with virtual slant as piggyback I dimly met before the
hidebound claw of precedent took root.
A wagtail canine bark at hoop nose faculty.
Amid that fractious world there lurks
an imposition deep inside a thin glass frame.
Dry bone flock turned upshot on a skeletal
squint to minds off course.
Deep freeze cabin vacuously threadbare.
Polarising focal point for ardent scholar smitten by their optical zoom.
Indebted to a cobalt marker label on one’s being for posterity to clinically dissect.
Field of vision analyte or pentecostal ocean’s
blue-green algae.
Nail file rigor mortis on reflection
to awkwardly deflect or misconstrue.
Egghead hatching schemes on concave glassware
where annotation floats around dimensions,
with axis dumbing down prophetic tombs.
Date Written : 30/4/2020 Thirtieth April 2020
Date Judged : 26/5/2020 Twenty sixth May 2020
Name Of Contest : BRIAN’S CHOICE V, any form, any theme
Result ; NA for Thin Glass Frame
Date submitted ; Fourth of October 2020
Contest : Second Chances NA poems of 2020 Part III
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke
Hey, Peyton, remember the time
When the snow was melted along with the rime?
When the sun was mild and the weather sublime?
We went out on picnic away from the dust and the grime.
We all took our hampers with fruit and some lime,
(I brought along some candy, bought out for a dime).
Momma packed some sandwiches with bacon which was prime,
And some very fine chutney of rosemary and thyme.
While my cousins and mom played charades and mime,
Off we both went for the grassy knoll to climb.
Our laughter peeled, tinkling like wood chime,
You were the prince, I was your heim.
Peyton, I remember that it was close to lunchtime,
I rode piggyback for no reason or rhyme.
You slipped of a sudden as you stepped on some slime,
We tumbled and rolled down the slippery 'cline.
I am sorry, dear Peyton, real sorry I 'm,
It was in fun, in those days of playtime.
I'd've done it again if there was another time,
For kid's to be prankish is never a crime!
(How's this for Mom's contest of Monorhyme?)
~25 May 2016~
Fred's Wife Needed Her Wings Clipped Or Did She
So it's men's bowling night out.
Usually Fred would bring his fan club,
his wife.
But lately his wife needed her wings clipped.
She done Fred wrong.
Real bad, real bad
where Fred didn't come home for three days
last week
After a night out of bowling the guys stop off
at the local pub, where everyone knows each other.
Fred orders the guys a round of drinks
and then pawns his loyalty to his wife
to all the listeners at the bar
Remember Fred's wife done Fred wrong
Isn't that right? Or is it rights that isn't?
Fred's all wound up, elephant memory and all.
He's stripping his wife naked in front of the guys,
exposing all the dirty secrets and laundry.
Go Fred, Go Fred, Go Fred
He's pregnant ... with piranha's.
He's stupid, with donkeys riding piggyback
Or is that the other way around?
Fred's on a roll.
For one hour straight, and more rounds a beer
for the guys he's going at it.
Even the fat smelling, a homeless lady in the corner
is licking her chops for Fred's free beer. Not him.
By now Fred's reduced his wife to residue.
Remember Fred's wife done him wrong ...
she needed her wings clip ...
or did she?
Man, oh man ... what kind of guy would do that?
Being so underhanded
and being such a man eating specimen
connie pachecho
2/9/17
Early morning blue sunny skies askew
turn to white grays on piggyback
once light breezes that blew
gentle in and out the trees comeback
now race wildly out to the sea renewed.
The colors with their brilliant reflective glow
edge toward a harvest moon and celestial equator
rising, falling, lilting in discretionary phase flow
wavering, clinging to the shortening day curators
lingering on equality of night day summer-winter throws.
An ecliptic sun moving in south-easterly directions
marking time and space and revolution years
inching hurriedly a pause for momentary corrections
not holding back or hesitating regardless of joy or tears
on a chartered course through seasonal deflections.
Returning to the calendar of September days
swiftly moving from month to year and decades
throughout wonderment and marvelings of man at play
history repeated forever on parade
the autumnal equinox marks the years and the days.
With the pandemic still taking lives…with our country so divided…
where half the people think wearing masks is fruitless and misguided…
What do we have to be thankful for in this year…2020?
If we look to the innocence of children…it turns out…there is plenty.
I love listening to children…they are innocent and bright…?After being thankful for they parents and their family their innocence takes flight.
It’s not surprising food is next…the things that feed their hungry bellies…
They are thankful for chicken nuggets, cookies, ice cream
and peanut butter sandwiches…made with jelly.
They are thankful for mermaids, for toilet paper, for rainbows…
for playgrounds with swings and slides.
They are thankful for the people who make shoes…
and relatives who give piggyback rides.
They are thankful for all the little things they see with their big eyes…
for ants and lizards and caterpillars…for bees and butterflies.
They are thankful for their house, for music…for TV and I-Pads…
One little boy listed Netflix first…and second was Mom and Dad.
Another little girl after being thankful for her parents…both her father and her mother
added, although she was praying for a puppy…she was thankful she got a little brother…
Yes the pandemic is still raging and our country is more divided than it ever was before
but there is still so much in this wonderful world for us to be thankful for….
Since 2020 has been so crazy…a ride so unpredictable…so bizarre…so wild
this year I’ll be giving thanks…as if I was a child.
I’ll close my eyes…I’ll fold my hands and even if it’s only for a little while
I’ll give thanks for all the little things this year that made me smile.
Yes, for a little while all the little things I will try to name…
With the hope that this Thanksgiving…everyone else can do the same.
Snow showers earlier today December 9th, 2020 yielded negligible accumulation
Though anyone who saw
and/or watched local news would be more wise
the brief flurry of crystalline precipitation
came as a complete surprise,
cuz yours truly prefers
getting strangled courtesy neckties
versus being given spoiler alert
subsequently forced to give reciprocal highfives.
I generally skirt tracking the weather,
nevertheless the missus would pantomime,
née blurts out with glee
meteorological conditions occurring here
out the skies above second Street
within Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.
No rhyme nor reason prevails
necessitating yours truly to hear and/or see
what mother nature doth hold in store
concerning (Delaware, Chester,
and Montgomery) tri county locale
sometimes loosely referred to
as comprising Delaware Valley
a geographical area coterminous with
metropolitan statistical area (MSA)
and broader combined statistical area (CSA),
and composed of counties located in
Southeastern Pennsylvania, South Jersey,
Delaware, and the Eastern Shore of Maryland.
As a lifetime resident - 19473 zip code
regarding aforementioned place name,
I can ofttimes intimate
how the forecast will bode
especially if adequate hours spent outdoors,
more so when yours truly
lived at 3224 Level Road
which less likely as ole man winter
huffs and puffs with braggadocio
rarely ripping, riffing, and riding
piggyback with nor'easter.
Interestingly enough global warming
affected dramatic climate change
during course of mine lifetime,
where Currier and Ives rural
linkedin with good n plenti grange,
where agrarian lifestyle might seem strange
to urban outfitters constituting population.
Truth be told, I fondly remember those days of yore
when countless unbroken acres of greenery
whereat in Arcola a cider mill vestige
of American/British Revolutionary War
perhaps e'en centuries before frequented by troubadour
named Shakespeare, quite sad
to narrate hundreds of years postwar
(meaning that brouhaha incorporating
Declaration of Independence)
long since derelict and sold
possibly by family with surname Knorr,
(methinks his first name Ignoramus nickname Ig)
who strongly exhibited demeanor of Eeyore.
Does a song make you feel a thought?
Do you wonder how it was wrought?
Is a song like a painting, like a puzzle put together
a shorthand to emotion, a spiritual endeavor?
Is it the 'only truth', is it a universal tongue?
Do you get sick after a zillion times sung?
Does it piggyback on something real, but itself is fake?
If you could choose life without music, is that a choice you'd make?
Lyrics affect notes in a mutual dance
A short cut to emotion or to a trance
Some let a song guide the trajectory of the mind
But the wisdom's often phony, just there because it rhymed.
A dancer to wild music looks insane
If there's no corresponding echo in your brain..
The sum may be more than the parts
But should it guide all those lonely hearts?
Jeff's car jumped a sidewalk, damaged his brain
Now he likes music, caught singing in the rain.
It used to be background, now he can't keep it apart
The beat grabs his spirit, the melody his heart.
Mark got a concussion in a barroom brawl
Now he doesn't like music at all
Doesn't soar or dive with the opera tune
Gave up serenading women under an Italian moon.
Khan sang silly songs, while admiring himself
Camera caught the narcissism he had acted out in stealth
He had to face the music, had to see how he appeared
He snapped back to normal but nasty folks jeered.
Yes you can be mocked for your tune, people twist the stiletto
They'll imitate you in an irritating falsetto.
Is a personality like a tune, some with an ugly twist
When you hit your last chord, will your song be missed?
waves ripple the knees
of hoary cypress
dark waters encroach
licked by an oily light
spanish moss
weave in and out
of sifting shadows
the flat bottomed boat
carries my thoughts
to a far bank
where alligators bask
and small white birds
piggyback upon knuckled
motionless hides
if i go one way on this stream
the skiff will dock
near an amiable flock of
other river boats
if i go another way
the maw of a listless fear
may open to trap my mind
i will leave behind the world of men
and their dreams
forever
the swamp will devour my name
the cypress trees gather my clothes
keep them chained and dangling
in their hollow hearts
PINNACLE
With a piggyback of hopes and dreams, I set forth to reach a peak.
Along bed of roses, rocks and tall sharp weeds, I harvested golden grains of progress. The days and nights rang a wake-up kiss on my head. They told me: "Move on, move on...Don't ever give up..."
There are rainy days on the way. A rain shower teased my climb halting me for awhile. Some so strong, I faltered - gained some wounds. Some directly stabbed my heart. And somehow, sometimes they even knocked my very soul. Although tough thunder tremors shook me, I fought hard to stand still continuing my climb.
Each height I step onto, I came to know moon and stars. Some of them began a war with me. Some of them a veil of fraud. But blessing, most have shed a continuing guiding light. Some hugged me. And wanted me to stay but some pushed and pressured me until I am all like a dripping sponge.
The potpourri situations brought me: a ladder closer to our God. His faithfulness and unfailing love a durable adhesive to my persistence and dreams.
A rainbow after each rain drew a promise of sun-kissed days. They melted the cold lonely years away. They permitted me a walk and run to heavenly meadows. Finally, I reached the pinnacle where grins a forever familiar tale.
(c) Olive Eloisa
2:07pm
October 01. 2012
March forevermore my child
Press onwards admirably
foward
Should you to be allowed
and granted access
Piggyback if you can on the
wing's of solent angel buffered
kite
Whilst all the while still
remembering lest never
i forget
That which was instilled in
me and taught
Knowledge for my own
protection in order to extenuate
my preservation
Such as to keep a safe distance
between i and the sun
Otherwise i am bound
to get burnt
Matters whether or not
if one is to journey in the dead
of winter
Take untold safety precautions
drown oneself in sunblock
factor 50+ sunscreen
Because it will always be the
very last thing you never
in your wildest imagination
would even contemplate
That will steal a march on you
and so to knock your army of toy
soldier's over as well