Long Pimpled Poems
Long Pimpled Poems. Below are the most popular long Pimpled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pimpled poems by poem length and keyword.
Bubbling babbling burbling banter from the bar..
Sup hush….memory lane trip...Proustian rush..pleasingly tickled.
Plushly ebbed…spidery beer swirls webbed…lace whirls..grace dimpled dappled jar..
Perch...parched pagans besmirch..sip...druid fluid drip..Iris’s secular church..
Venerate yesteryear dips…commemorate Faustian fillips....teasingly pickled..
Smug treacle toned thatch rugs hugs sturdy slabs.. shrugs..
Tugs tussling tree torn trusses and trestles....
Trumpets tradition.. crisp crumpets in flames..sedition flickering..
Like sassy strumpets calling each other names…playfully bickering..
Remember the surreal cast….gayfully ethereal echoes..
Beacons blush in the embers of the past..
Classy pubs dripping with polished pewter.. parochial paraphernalia…ballsy brass...
Crepuscular charms. splinters splicing smokey shadows..
Wafting whispers.. across tobacco tinted tainted times..
Whistles whetted..quaffing…quenching ...cavorting with crannies..
Carousing with nooks naked in timber flannelled panels..
Canoodling on fecund bulbous bales farm foraged.. freshly fashioned...
Flirtatious follicle flicks....gurgling guffaws, raffish rascals' whisky whimsy..
Courting curious covens..sporting prosecco cackle cacophonies.
As sons become dad..in turn perched with their lad..
Lady lawyer betwixt a pimpled tyro…local employer, bumpkin on the giro..
Museums of marvels.. hoodwink misplaced metaphors..
Laced with a house pour of moreish memories of before..
That without impunity the nub of a pub..
The bar.. a community hubbub hub..
Gracious Landladies…loquacious Landlords..
Sagacious stars...near and far..
We raise our jar.
For our home from home..
A public house..
Ta..
The Roar of the Thunder
You do not see the bikes for the roar
As they roll thundering down the interstate
Proclaiming a life once lived and changes sought
Demonstrating the era of wars fought
In a nation divided over peace and war issues
Family, veterans, advocates and friends gather
To celebrate the Heros and pay tribute to the Fallen
The roar of their bikes like bombs approaching
Only this instance, we don’t run to hide
But stand in unity with them
I squint to look in the horizon
From my vantage roadside view
In anticipation to see the roll of the roar from the distance
I tear up as I see bikes sweep past me
The tears roll down as I wave and give salute
To such brave men who held us high
I look around and see others wave or cheer
With hands, with flags, with smiles and claps
I scan the crowd and see I am not alone as I weep
For some have lost loved ones
Others just to give support with the pride
Of being one with a country
In search of peace and unity
I get goose pimpled when some wave back at me
Blow their horns in acknowledgement of what all this stands for
Even give hi fives while they roll on in a burst of thunder
With loved ones riding as passengers with them
All they ask for is support for the millions out there
Some unable to attend due to related health issues
What do we give back to such brave men and women?
Most now with scars unhealable and even unseen
Scars which have taken away their own freedom
A freedom they exchanged to give freedom to all
Do we just let them roll on and thunder down the line
Or we can make the change they need to keep them included
Keep them recognized and assisted
To live better life-styles
Long live my country men. God Bless.
THE PRESENCE
After prayers, I blew off the lantern
Laid down, faced up, in dead man’s pattern
As accustomed, I wrapped up my face, next
Thing, wrapper intensified the darkness.
Suddenly fear and horror was roped in
With force, my reflex flung it open
It was just me and my soul in bed,
Listening to hear what the darkness said.
Silently, it ushered in an awful presence
Filled the room, awakened my sixth sense
It was accompanied by a soundless breeze
Hovering around my head, my breath ceased
Stomach purged as my heart beats fast
Body goose pimpled, eyes opened at last.
In the direction of the door my gaze fixed
Eyes became woozy, feelings mixed.
Though no image was physically visible, but
I felt something standing right in my front.
Like it moved, suddenly I felt it so close
My mouth shivered, my mind froze
‘Please who are you, what have I done?
I’m innocent, please spare mama’s only son’
After I spoke, the silence rang louder
Darkness was thicker, image was bolder
Stretched my arms, nothing I could touch
I wished for two things, death or a torch
There, my thoughts rambled astray
With that blank mind, I thought to re-pray.
I summoned courage to shut my eyes again
Not up to a minute I popped it open, it was day
I beheld the ray of the morning sun
As it shone through my pane, fear was gone.
Asking, was that a dream or a trance?
Or was my mind playing some pranks?
Imaginations went high, emotion stooped low
I didn’t know what I saw cos I didn’t see what I know
Trying to figure out what that presence was about,
I lost knowledge of what to believe or doubt
I never believed in Angels or Demons,
But that night replaced my old beliefs with new ones.
Lonely village, moonless night
Coal’s acrid odor, breath white
Meandering highway, the drunkard’s path
Clouded mind grasped for excuses from wrath
Unaware of the shadows
His eyes on the long road
Faint rustle of leaves, broke mind from it’s trance
In hallowed acre, apparitions danced
From corner of eye, glanced he
Naught but the night could he see
He stumbled forward not giving thought more
Until eerie crackle brought pimpled pores
His pulse and pace both quickened
Not from booze, he felt sickened
Past graveyard he slipped with recreant strides.
Closing eyes and letting memory guide
Into the wood his path led
More noises heard, his fear fed
Off to his left glinted a steel blade, bright
Down dark lane he ran, his legs making flight
Looking back as he bounded
Hoping fear was unfounded
Blinded by fear and the darkness of night
He tripped and fell to a macabre sight
A wet oily patch on road
Had caused his hopes to erode
As recognition of what lay before
The remnants of a former man, no more
Who it was he wasn’t sure
Face was gone, only a blur
A mangled mess, limbs de-sheathed and unpaired
Blood, bone and skin twisted beyond repair
Twin light orbs approaching fast
He waved and yelled, wheels went past
No notice paid by speeding traveler
The grisly scene left to drunken ambler
He starts to the task unplanned
Then sees a familiar hand
He knew at once who’d been following him
That glint was scythe of the reaper grim
Then thoughts changed to his demise
His life flashed before his eyes
And excuses he grasped to avoid the wrath
Of the One who would send him on southern path
1 April 17
Mother Earth bearded with trees,
Blanketed with skin of sod,
Her stony organs composed
of caves, caverns and caches,
Banking precious minerals and gems.
Sustained by the Solar system surrounding her,
and nourished from relished rescources within.
Her ferocious fiery heart
Pumps high pressured molten blood
Through vast veins of ledge,
Bleeding it from mountain pores,
Crater wounds and fissures
on her ocean floors,
Causing salty Tsunami tears
to ripple across her cheeky shores.
Her face wrinkled with the majesty of mountains,
Dimpled with canyons and crevasse,
Stained with grasslands and Savannahs,
and spotted with veneer of velveteen moss.
Pimpled by hills leaking with raging rivers,
bathed in cascading waterfall showers,
and crystal blue water lakes.
Animated by nature,.. her soul, ..her DNA
She adorns her antiquity
with shocking arrays of multicolored wildflowers,
Delicious fruit, a vital ensemble of vegetables,
Herbs, artifacts of energy and natural wonders;
Creating an electrifying, atomic, atmosphere
to stage her exotic creatures and precious beings.
Adorned by a circling celestial priceless pearl,
An exquisite orb as ancient as She.
She, this blue planet,
Center of her spatial stage,
Unabashed, pirouetting, posing,
Tilting and lilting her charms,
to a universal audience of retreating astral beings.
She, spotlighted by an extravaganza of stellar luminaries.
She, Earth, so powerful, energized, extraordinary,
Mesmerizing, distinguished, mysterious,
Thought by many to be the godess,
Star of the Show...
And yet...
and yet ..she herself..
and All of nature..
has been ..
CREATED.
Every since he ate the dung bug, on his face appeared the balls
From eye whole down to his bottom he was covered with them all
But I ain’t seen nothing like him in any amphibious hall
That wet, chameleon kindred sure has some mean pimples
He stands looking at you, trying to seem really mean
Feeling kind of bumpy, never can stay clean
He lays body a twicth’n, trying not to fall
That wet, chameleon kindred sure has some mean pimples
He’s a pimpled lizard, walks with a twist
A pimpled lizard’s living in the mist
How do you think he cures it, I don’t know
What is covering his hood?
Bugs give him satisfaction, loves the buzzes and the smells
Eats lightning bugs a flashing, swats them with his tail
Always has a good day, head can tilt and all
That wet, chameleon kindred sure has some mean pimples
He can eat like a sow, an amphibious eating champ
His tongue he can flick, faster than you can clap your hand
He’s unusual and able, he can eat any pest
The zookeeper dumps them in, he gobbles them up with zest
He’s got crazy sticky fingers, he can even use them all
That wet, chameleon kindred sure has some mean pimples
He’s a pimpled lizard, walks with a twist
A pimpled lizard’s living in the mist
He’s a pimpled lizard, he’s got a million pores
A pimpled lizard, an ugly pimpled lord
He’s gory lord, He’s gory lord
I thought I saw his belly now shaking
But it’s just a new pimple on his skin, his skin, his skin
For John Heck's contest
A really, really, really bad parody of Elton John's, "Pinball Wizard"
Guess I shouldn't have eaten those mushrooms
I feel nothing but my hand to pen, to paper in a book; I feel nothing but the cold
letters being written down under bags of a gaze. My tired eyes droop to the
bottom of the page in sorrow. Freckled lights pollute the campus, casting yellow
stares on my book, my life, my skirt. The skirt I wear is full of color, unlike my
emotion, and it’s wrapped around my bare cold legs covered with goose-bumps,
falling asleep from a lack of blood-flow because they’re crossed in an
unsuccessful attempt at impossible comfort on the hard, dusty grass-hill.
There’s a planet in my eye. Saturn floats in my brain cells. Membranes freeze
under your microscopic gaze. I don’t want to live. I know I’m not that depressed.
I know this will end. Well I can’t wait for this to end, to look under your
microscope and see what you see. You couldn’t use a telescope? I suppose
that’d be all the worse for me, for your pet bat in the attic who won’t shut up. Let
him keep flying and batting, I say; let me stop living though you know I’ll keep on
for someone. What a time to spill reason. What a day to let devils loose and
demons sail with strange powers thrusting their influential tug at my will.
Strange powers push my goose-pimpled legs into a new tomorrow because
every tomorrow is so different from today; it’s tomorrow, not today, after all!
Trapped, Scared, Wary
A dimly lighted room,
A boy with no way out,
Heavy metal locks on the polished brown doors,
An abandoned clock ticking away,
Counting hours, minutes, seconds,
Before the predator awakes.
Trapped, scared, wary
Crouched down at the corner of the room,
A boy hugging his legs,
He rocked back and forth,
He moved with the ticking clock,
The air was thick with fear,
His body tensed at the loud stomps behind the door,
Or was it just his fearful heart,
racing like it could tear apart.
Trapped, scared, wary
The floors suddenly creaked,
His deep set eyes widening as they traced the sound,
Finding nothing but an oppressive silence,
He wondered if he'd imagined it all,
A boy with olive skin,
Now pale from the sudden fright,
A predator loomed outdoors,
Of that he was now sure of,
Tick tock, Get up, the clock sung,
Pimpled bumps arose on his sweaty skin,
Did the clock talk? Certainly it could not,
But what if it was real?
Trapped scared wary
A boy with baseless terrors,
Plagued that a predator hunts him,
Basking in misery is a boy,
A boy who unknowingly refers to himself as prey,
Shivering with fear,
A predator he doesn't know,
A predator he hasn't heard,
Yet so terrified of.
Trapped, scared and wary,
A boy trapped scared and wary of the unknown.
We drank cheap beer in a rusted out shed.
Buzzing before our 8:00AM English class.
Trying to be cool- to fit with the "Ins."
Instead, were becoming the wobbling outcasts.
Spinning further out from the golden Ins.
Ah the golden center.
Filled with jocks, cheerleaders.
A chorus line of silver thighs and golden pom poms.
Smiling at my pimpled insecurities?
But your long bomb popularity didn't stop that tree.
From slamming into your popularity.
It didn't move aside as you passed on by.
Like I used to move aside as you past by me.
You were popular in that narrow hallway of slow death called adolescence.
Now your football helmet is yellow and cracked.
Destined for a garage sale. Bottom shelf existence.
On the periphery of forgotten.
You with the pom poms and patented dimples.
Nowhere near that cocky cute kitten anymore.
Turned plump, pregnant, abandoned, aborted.
What happened to that sweet cotton tail and golden lips?
That used to pip "you'll never be with me".
Finally, after forty plus years.
You're lying with me ..figuratively.
Spread eagle atop pom pom mountain.
An outcast on the periphery of everything.
REGRETTING CAKE
My life in crumbles, vanilla-chocolate,
I lick my wounded fingers, tastes so good.
To stay in shape, I frost my lips… de-lish,
Cut corners on the square, I really should.
Regretting cake, from my head down to my feet…
Such a shame it is so sweet, I repeat…
Regretting cake, from my head down to my feet…
Deciding whether a half or quarter,
Will satisfy my broken heart - a gift.
Don’t want to invite friends over…all mine.
Generous frosting, gives those pounds a lift.
Regretting cake, from my head down to my feet…
Such a shame it is so sweet, I repeat…
Regretting cake, from my head down to my feet…
I’ve weighed my cake, it’s atrociously slim,
Though you can find its slices upon me.
My pimpled countenance hazards applause,
My broken heart - he'd not even know me.
Regretting cake, from my head down to my feet…
Such a shame it is so sweet, I repeat…
Regretting cake, from my head down to my feet…
9th Place Winner
8/9/2016
Contest by Julia Ward