Long Right as rain Poems
Long Right as rain Poems. Below are the most popular long Right as rain by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Right as rain poems by poem length and keyword.
People don’t think of you the way that you like
who do you think you’re conning when talking all that ite
blagging everybody you come into contact with
proud of the first opportunity to take advantage of gifts
boasting about your blagging skills as if you ain’t known as a blagger who can’t be trusted with anything always a late giver backer
when the first impression you make shifts to a shady replacement
to never reappear after that first meeting you’re different
and when debts ain’t paid you never blame yourself
you go and point incompetence at somebody else
so it’s never your fault and therefore cannot be helped
treating friends unfair
until there ain’t no one there
because you just don’t care
but in your stories you swear
that you’re selfless and prepared
to save everyone who is facing despair
after blaming the individual for their own fate
comparing the fact you made decisions that they ain’t
because you make the right choices and have superior vision
sounding authentic to those who don’t expect to hear fibbing
and when you big yourself up there’s also somebody digging
and though they helped you back up you forget that as you kick ‘em
saying you wanna help as you continue to hit ‘em
acting like it’s all their fault as you leak criticism
combined with a sad face to ensure the sympathy’s given
because you lost a mate
when they fell into this place
but last month they were fake
and it was too much to take
for now they’re nowhere to trace
as they avoid you with hate
as you remove yourself
from any involvement or blame
and act all confused
saying they must be insane
because to not like you
must mean they haven’t a brain
and then you emphasis this point
by saying they’re the slow train
who you have to help by shining
a light that explains
the simplest interactions
that they take the wrong way
in fact if you speak to your friend
they would be right as rain
as the fact they don’t like you
is their stupid mistake
The narcissist in you evident
cold twisted malevolent
suffering though you’re innocent
from someone far less intelligent
now confused by developments
believing things deemed irrelevant
a friend you’ll save cus you’re brilliant
despite the painful experience
Bravely fought in experiment
curious pain brings forth a scent
it smells red like pain
it feels right as rain
so another and another flood the gates
is it that face that you hate?
sudden like a snap
resonates another smack
more force makes curiousity
an immovable object with such verocity
a little less is never enough
you cant even say you have it rough
so when it gets old and white is red
then dont worry your little head
no bruise will call
on your assistance against this wall
so will you reach for the slice
the scraping vice
that rends flesh like fish in sea
glittering and shimmering among your plea
oh may this end but no
you want it so
you do dont you though
this isnt sorrow
its pain that starts the wheels
no matter how your voice squeals
drowned out in the fog
of your mind
Water’s wet, the yard’s not yet,
but I’ll bet the sprinkler’s set.
Right as rain, here goes again,
clouds containing deluge drains.
Car’s just clean, and man, I mean
they prance, preen, and soak the scene.
Wonder why weathermen weep?
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A short little form called the 'Alliterisen' - lots of variations, but the
rhyme pattern is aabbccd, and this one has 2 alliterations per line
and internal rhymes on a fixed length of 7 syllables. Frankly, I'm not sure
what I think about the 7th line after 3 couplets, but, whatever!
https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/alliterisen/
Ramblings of an Old Woman
I’ve lost my hat, its completely gone
It’s on your head, you put it on
I’ve got one glove on my right hand
T’other’s in the fridge as right as rain
It’s stifling in here and your coat is on
I’m late for work and I need to run
No work today, it’s time for rest
Since twenty years, your job has ceased
Did you put the dinner on for Bert
I’ll get the iron to straighten his shirt
He passed away, don’t you recall
Please take care not to trip and fall
You’re my lovely little girl, dear Sarah
Your daughter’s not here, I’m just your carer
You’re just like her. She’s missed so much
Try not to cry, and I’m very touched
My clothes are damp, they need to be changed
And your nightie’s on under all that garb
I’m even forgetting how to talk
As well as my ability to walk
I want to help and make life better
Your specs are in the dish for the butter
I’ll put the kettle on for a cuppa
And do something for your supper
Make sure to put water in the pot
I’ve broken so many when I’ve forgot
The smell of gas is no longer there
The controls are immobile fair and square
Your safety secure for the moment
But I won’t get better, you must know that
I remember before as clear as a bell
But life in the present is just a shell
I love to hear your tales of the past
A dialogue of stories unsurpassed
This living book for me to recall
A piece of history with which to enthrall
Acceptance is easy to feel
It’s like dancing in the rain
Whilst wishing for a drier deal
If not for regret soaking me
Acceptance would be right as rain
Forgiveness an elusive cloak
Better to endure cruel showers
Practice patience with umbrellas
Dancing between drops like flowers
But traumas remind me I'm wet
Rinse failures on cycles dour
Make tornados to my regrets
Love reminds me to awaken
A symphony in a storm's eye
Me falling notes to silent dread
Practice resurrection in rains
Crescendos rise in falling drops
Till soaked grave’s finale still
Learn to croon despite the rain
Proclaim glory to divine waters
Curse not cloudy skies feigned
Hold back impossible downpours
Or seek acceptance in the hour
Practice dancing between tears
Genesis 4:7
"If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must rule over it.”
Regret beats down like rain
Longing is like a still aquifer
No matter how I cup my hands
Regrets slip through my fingers
Filters underground to longing
All my failures transpire
Comes down in a torrent
The soil drinks all my regrets
Pools into something pure
Kilometers out of reach
I bring out a shovel
But emptiness has no soil
Here's my drill too short
But my bit is too brittle
It breaks just out of reach ‘
The soil of a failed marriage
The topsoil of a son divided
Each grain of my shortcomings
Receiving my sweat and blood
Meet sweet and sour longing
Quenched then parched again
Give me living water, Jesus
Make me porous enough
Solute dissolved into solution
That nothing drains to longing
If I could let go of solidity
To be dissolved by regrets
To be transfigured to water
So, I dig my well, empty
Not knowing I am the Pacific
Make a home in the desert
Regret right as rain, me askew
Sweet longing out of reach
Myself, their conduit broken
Dig into the impossible China
Not knowing I’m 70% water
Knowing, make me a pail
A small hole if regret overflows
Myself a drop of gritty blood
Reaching toward the water table
Longing like the salty ocean
A Dyson is an animal
That you can buy for bucks.
The only thing about this beast:
The price tag really sucks!
But if you get the kind that sleeps
All cradled on the wall,
It’s easy to entice to play
With little folderol.
The nicest thing about this kind:
It cleans after itself,
And after animated play,
Goes back upon the shelf.
And if you splurge and spend a bit
More than you can afford,
There’ll be no tripping when you romp;
You’ll be of one accord.
You cannot play for very long
Or it will drag and drain,
But after a few hours’ nap,
It’s right as rain again!
A Dyson is an animal
That you can keep for life;
The happiest that you are pals
Is sure to be your wife.
You are a divine creative inspiration to me, one that never ceases to amaze
all encouragement is mine when you catalyse my poetry with your displays
of guiding light, you are like a vaccine shot in the arm when you goad my ways
Motivated to the hilt you rouse my stimulus and help me to present myself
you are my lift, my boost, my perfect little helper kind, my secret magic elf
and thanks to you I own a happy flow, a writers afterglow an inspo self
You are my incitement and my provocation, my little willful spirit of excel
sweeter then honey more scented then Channel No 5 on the wrist pell-mell
you got something I cannot live without , something I can touch and smell
You're an afflatus of divinity a subterfuge and there is no monkey business with you
you put intent in all that you do and each time I write you come to visit me anew
we follow each other in parallel route, and there is no mistaking what we can do
You blow onto my senses like breath on a feather and you tether my creative passions
an impelling mental force that you are, you are right as rain without portion or ration
when you bestow and offer all you got, you enable me to write with thought and action.
Feb. 27, 2020
Pick-A-Title, Vol 14 - Tristich -
Joyful memories of days when we sang in the sun
holding hands and kissing til' the moon slow rose
oh how I miss your fancy face, your cute lil' nose
after the laughter comes the pain, alongside rain
I recall our promises tied to sturdy bits of twine
giving me the strength to see life at its best
oh how I loved you Guy but now, with deep unrest
I long for the days when you and I met summer
In your wild wild T, baby Suzy & Jimmy D
dancing to Elvis hand in hand
as we made love in the sand
after the laughter comes the pain, alongside rain
Playful as a summer day you knew I was yours
eyes of glitter, lips of hot, hair of silky black
oh my darlin' how you always had my back
I long for the days when you said I love you
First came kisses , then a love as right as rain,
then came pain like a dagger to the heart, insane !
8/8/2019
She wore a tiffany hat with a bow and six big plumes of red and white,
it had an ultra wide asymmetrical brim that rolled up to one side.
When it came to dames like this I believe God ran out of humble stock !
She wore pompadour shoes, like she had nothing to lose
and rouge so red it made the cardinals have fainting spells !
Her hair was soaked in henna, elderberry & radish extract,
and I believe her dress was stitched in the boudoir of coco-channel!
She was a nouveau riche reveling in her new found fame
and everything in her life was right as rain until that fatal day,
when her hat expanded 10 x its size, growing past her shoulders
like a great big beast, of leavened yeast!
Her hat pins strained from the strain of those great big plumes,
moaning and groaning from her lithe walk and all that perfume !
Then First World War arrived and suddenly it was unpatriotic
to be concerned with one's appearance !
She was no Rockefeller and didn't own a rupee nor a heller,
so she became a steadfast loyal dame, like dear old Helen Keller .
What happened to that big old hat, with the plumes of red and white ?
She stewed it, brewed it, boiled it down then poured it in a flask,
and yes she drank it slowly,... just in case you thought to ask !
March 30/ 2025