Long Shower Poems

Long Shower Poems. Below are the most popular long Shower by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shower poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Sweetwaters Music Festival

Far off the beaten track and trail
        on quest for music’s Holy Grail
led pilgrims on biblical scale 
         more than can be counted.
With midsummer sun on our cheek
in tents to shelter we did seek
and pitched them at its highest peak
                 on a hilltop mounted

As we climbed the lean of the hill
my beer I would try not to spill
and sat with the great unwashed till
                           olé and adios.
It was I, El Skeet, amigo,
           in my poncho and sombrero 
half-cut like a loco gringo
        who waved “vaya con dios!”

We lit yet another hash bong
 all up in smoke like Cheech & Chong
and passed it to each one along
                 under the cop radars.
Till late as wasted brain cells flag
 with every mind trip headfu-ck drag 
I tucked in to my sleeping bag
         on the hill ‘neath the stars

As music and mayhem did rage
back in next summer’s youthful age
we camped closer to the big stage
                  by a shallow hollow.
I’d sit and watch the crowds go by
      in the hot sun and dust and dry 
under a big Waikato sky
       from our camp on tent row

And as I ripped in with the guys
          to our grog trailer of supplies
we made a hanging chain of ties
             with every pull tab rent.
Waiting for Cold Chisel that night
      with a superdoob glowing bright
I was fuc-kin’ high as a kite
      and lurched back to my tent

The next day I woke in a daze
and walked off my drunken malaise
when I heard singing songs of praise
         in some weird sh-it I saw.
Tambourine hippies, punks and geeks
and chanting Hari Krishna freaks
  burnt incense in clay painted cheeks
          so I got high some more

Yet in a hot wet and wild hour
            stoned in the unisex shower
I gazed many a sweet flower
          in their naked splendour.
We bathed too in waters that flowed
down where the lazy river bowed
lest my head spontaneous explode
          on my three day bender

That night by the stars we were led
as above a smoky sky bled
when out The Enz rocked “I See Red”
          and fired a burning flare.
In the spirit of Sweetwaters
     we lived among at close quarters
sons of Bacchus and his daughters
            and I so revelled there


    Written: November 2009


Sweetwaters was an annual three
 day music festival back in 1980s.
Form: Rhyme


Hypnotized

Is slavery dead? Honestly it isn’t
Those of us who conform are stuck within a prison
We follow celebrities and we wear their clothes
As if they are Gods and we are mere mortals

As if they are shepherds and we are merely sheep
As if they are they are the strong and we are the weak
We quote their words and become their clones
And if we break their trend, we are left alone

And as they pass, we shower them with gifts
Money, so they can go and get their face lifts
Fame, so they can go out and conquer more slaves
Power, so they can destroy those who call them fake

They’ve brainwashed us so much we’ve gone completely numb
We openly cheer when the hero pulls out his gun
We don’t understand that we’re all completely mindless
We’re overjoyed only if the screen shows senseless violence

Nearby a police officer fights for his life
As a drug dealer tries to stab him with a butterfly knife
We’d call for help, but we’re busy with our own stuff
Discussing how the movie was good, but the killing wasn’t realistic enough

Our emotions are gone, we are all just droids
We don’t cry when we hear about a little boy
Who was killed in a shooting by a merciless gang
Because his father was part of the Ku Klux Klan

Instead we just shrug and respond “That’s the world today.”
“His father was an idiot,” is all that most people can say
“Things happen for a reason. That’s the Lord’s way.”
But that night, for that boy, everyone forgets to pray

We watch a few minutes of the news, not because we want to know
Coming up next is the new hit reality show
We’d rather watch girls dancing and grinding on each other
Instead of observing a woman work two jobs and be a good mother

And if disaster strikes, we observe the destruction and pain
The details of the damaged are extensively explained
But money only comes to charities with writing on the bag
The money must be packaged with a rich man’s name tag

So when the people see, they will remember what his mask looks like
He only cares if he’s quoted saying, “They will be all right.”
And with that, his money, fame, and power grows
And in the next election, it could even win him more votes

Learn to break the chains, learn to set yourself free
Your eyes are open, but you must learn to see
Don’t drink their potion. Don’t let them inside
Don’t stare at the pendulum too long or you’ll be hypnotized

The Morning Soars With Skylarks Singing Repost

The morning soars with skylarks singing
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture,
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer.
A sudden shower would see me running
fancy free between the rain drops,
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive;
I skittered, happy, crisp and clear, 
like God's first measure of a holy hymn.

The air alive with songs of praise, 
the gentle winds a sacred message,
His grand prescription like a dream
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens.
I liked to wander by the sea shore
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity,
as a lamb on shaky legs and tumbled freely without care,
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath.

The halcyon days of youth came true,
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun,
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame
a blend of hues the likes of which 
would make a young boy doubly blind,
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields
would blister scarlet, happy times
that made me see my childhood clearly.

The weather turned again, and shanties
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats,
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty.
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre,
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair,
her hair a daydream falling soft,
O fanciful imagination!

I thought to when my mother took my hand. 
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
toys which we could ill-afford;
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds,
loud, and mouthing their wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.

I never lost my youthfulness, 
my joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence.
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings, feel content
that tribulation never came to bother me.

A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth
to all men, greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet 
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping, perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow.
Form: Verse

The Morn's Alive With Skylarks Singing

The morn's alive with skylarks singing
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture,
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer.
A sudden shower would see me running
fancy free between the rain drops,
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive;
I skittered, happy, crisp and clear, 
like God's first measure of a holy hymn.

The air alive with songs of praise, 
the gentle winds a sacred message,
His grand prescription like a dream
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens.
I liked to wander by the sea shore
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity,
as a lamb on shaky legs and tumbled freely without care,
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath.

The halcyon days of youth came true,
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun,
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame
a blend of hues the likes of which 
would make a young boy doubly blind,
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields
would blister scarlet, happy times
that made me see my childhood clearly.

The weather turned again, and shanties
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats,
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty.
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre,
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair,
her hair a daydream falling soft,
O fanciful imagination!

I thought to when my mother took my hand. 
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
toys which we could ill-afford;
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds loud, 
and mouthing their wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.

I never lost my youthfulness, 
my joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence.
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings, feel content
that tribulation never came to bother me.

A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth
to all men, greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet 
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping, perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow!
Form: Verse

Premium Member Month End Madness

Panting, running, paying, fuming,
Bumping, swearing, hurrying, driving,
All because today is the thirty first
Of the month, why are we all nigh to burst!
Got to buy groceries, go the butcher
The dry cleaners, the florist, the baker,
Did i turn on the slow cooker?
Have guests coming at 8.00p.m still
On the road, home in 15 minutes – phone Will,
Darling, Did you collect the birthday cake,
There is a big accident, traffic hectic won’t make
It to pick it up – Yes sweetheart I have
Drive carefully the roads are crazy,
Looks like a storm brewing, weather drizzly and hazy.
As I arrive in our driveway it pours with rain,
And I drop a packet, which had the red wine, I stain
My clothes and the car seat, go have your shower,
Hubby says, relax, everything is under control, 
Turned shower taps to their full strength and power
Exhausted, let the water run over my naked body
Till I feel refreshed, get dressed in my 
Sexy black number,
And come downstairs, hubby gives me a wolf whistle,
Just wait till the guests leave he says, look at him 
From under my lashes!
The aroma wafting from the stove is 
Provocatively divine!
And next to the sofa is a glass of room 
Temperature red wine.
Table is set, arrange flowers I brought in a vase,
Immediately, the bell goes ding dong, 
It’s Cherry and Tim,
She couldn’t wait to show me her engagement ring,
Hot on their heels are Susan and Barry,
He has just asked Susan to him marry,
And last of all my twin sister Rina, arrives she’s wise,
With her new boyfriend in tow she bellows, Hi guys!
Fun was had and wine was drunk 
Laughter abounded in the lounge and dining room,
We all forgot how tired we were and 
It was end of the month, and all the media forecasted,
Was doom and gloom!
It was my birthday, turning forty, no turning back now,
Don’t regret a day of my life, bless the day I took my vow,
Happy birthday dear Mary, happy Birthday to you,
I felt blest had my hubby and sister present and select 
Friends but few,
Mellow and happy and with certainly no one drunk,
Just four happy couples full of zest and funk!
Our guests began departing, in twos they left,
I slipped of my shoes and gave a big yawn,
Will picked me up, and must have undressed
Me – for all I remember is waking up to a peck
On my cheek,
And a scrumptious breakfast in bed,
I always knew I had picked the right guy to wed!
Form: Rhyme


Children of Faith

Children of faith,
That look up to the heavens,
For help, for comfort,
For a change, for a beginning;
They are like nails hammered into rocks,
They have broken hearts,
They've got nothing,
Completely no one else to turn to,
They walk in the shadow of death.

Children of faith,
They know that they have numbered days,
And are aware of their crashing clay;
They see their fading light rays,
But they have their hopes high,
Like a camel in the Sahara,
That waits for years ,
For a shower of rain from above-
Their tongues prophecy new beginnings,
Their lips sing in thanksgiving,
But their hearts weep in sorrow,
For the afflictions and torments.

Children of faith,
Live each day like their last,
And give each shining sun their best.
Their thoughts are totally lost,
And upon this,they don't boast.
In fact, they're so detached-
From their poor lives.
They thank the setting sun,
For bringing a thin film of darkness,
And for silencing the day's noises;
So that they will shut their doors and windows,
 To cry in silence,
And lick their tears;
And face their fierce fears-
While no one else witnesses their agony.

Children of faith,
That look up to the skies,
For midday dusk-
When the days seem longer,
Or appear like they're failing.
That call on,
For midnight dawn,
When nights appear faulty;
With the greatest of scary dreams,
And the highest ranking of their pain,
Or with life-threatening haemorrhages,
With wounds cut and drilled deeper.
Their lives have taken firm grip,
On to the strongest ropes,
Whose ends are knotted to weak poles.
Most of them lose it with time,
Like you and I at some point;
Only few keep the fire burning,
As they wait for their deliverance.

Children of faith,
I don't understand what it is that they are made of,
But only they know what  their origins are.
We want to walk like them,
And borrow lessons from their trials,
As we try to put on their coats,
Just to feel the coldness or warmth or both;
That they get from their shield of faith.
She wants to follow their example,
And keep hearing their tales.
He wants to live a life like theirs;
And keep reciting their prayers.
We plead with them,
 To Teach us ;
How to build faith like theirs.
When the storms are rough,
When the floods are yet to wash away our feet-
When misfortune befalls us,
Or when we feel we've lost it all.

The Morning Rings With Skylarks Singing

...inspired by 'Poem In October' by Dylan Thomas


The morning rings with skylarks singing,
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture,
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer.
A sudden shower would see me running
fancy free between the rain drops,
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive;
I skittered, happy crisp and clear, 
like God's first measure of a holy hymn.

The air alive with songs of praise, 
the gentle winds a sacred message,
His grand prescription like a dream
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens.
I liked to wander by the sea shore
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity,
as a lamb on shaky legs and tumbled freely without care,
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath.

The halcyon days of youth came true,
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun,
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame
a blend of hues the likes of which 
would make a young boy doubly blind,
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields
would blister scarlet, happy times
that made me see my childhood clearly.

The weather turned again, and shanties
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats,
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty.
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre,
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair,
her hair a daydream falling soft,
O fanciful imagination!

I thought to when my mother took my hand. 
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes,
(toys which we could ill-afford;
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.)
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life,
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds,
loud, and mouthing their wants and wares,
and then we wandered home exhausted.

I never lost my youthfulness, 
my joy at seeing herons gloating, eagles floating
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring;
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence.
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by,
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few,
I count my blessings, feel content
that tribulation never came to trouble me.

A birthday cake is waiting for me,
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal;
my wish the same, for peace on earth
to all men, greetings and goodwill!
I lie down in the close and holy quiet 
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure,
safe in His keeping, perfect day
with promise of a bright tomorrow.
Form: Verse

With-In a Dream

If only I could ride upon the back of a dragonfly~
O', what journey I would behold...

I receive the wind's forced breath against my face-and revel in my locks rolling in the vibrant 
sunlight.
We hover just above a splash of rainbow painted flowers, 
that kiss my toes with open petals of joy.
The scent so pure, 
shall decorate my skin forevermore.

We crest high into the ocean tinted sky.
Humbly greet birds which share in our gift,
and delight us in symphonies of angelic praise.

I close my eyes for a startled moment,
as we dance through a vineyard of bumble bees-
"Buzz,Buzz," They caution sternly to us, their unexpected visitors.
A smile imposes my lips at the thought of their disrupted task;
Only to pass them, look over my shoulder and witness their purpose resume within natural 
elegance.

A shimmering mirror of water now lies underfoot.
I feel the warmth of the sun's reflection cast up under our joined form.
"Faster, faster!" I command my fairy-friend.
As I lay down flat and wrap my limbs snugly around to secure myself, our speed begins to 
flourish.

With quick, steady, pace, we descend onto the water's surface. 
Skips and twists- twirl into a tango of splashes,
which shower my face with each perfectly intentional bounce.
The tickle rises up from deep in my belly,
I laugh, a laugh full of true obliviation.
Dragonfly now lifts, higher and higher we go- 
As I glide upon heavenly stilled wings.

We drift within utopian clouds, 
they pass before our sights like vapored curtains before a theater of whimsy, unveiling a 
masterpiece.
The presented gift, is that of majestic mountain tops that promise the scent of sweetly 
perfumed evergreen. 
This aroma leaves me breathless. 
The aroma evokes childhood visions of wishing stars, 
and kisses goodnight.
I inhale the memory for a moment longer, 
cherishing the scent before I must once again grow older.

My friend I have been blessed to dance in the breeze with,
slows to a transcending idol.
We encircling the center of a noble rose.
We descend gently into the heart of the queen of flowers,
and land on her royal stage.
I delicately climb down, lay upon her silk; 
and closed my eyes to dream. 
Dreams which have atlas' transpired to become,
my long awaited reality.

If only I could ride upon the back of a dragonfly~
O', what journey I would behold...

Mornings Shrill With Skylarks Singing

Mornings shrill with skylarks singing 
o'er the greening meadow and the pliant pasture, 
the ocean sighing, gulls aloft on wings of prayer. 
A sudden shower would see me running 
fancy free between the rain drops, 
I cried 'Excelsior!' and set the hills alive; 
I skittered, happy crisp and clear, 
like God's first measure of a holy hymn. 

The air alive with songs of praise, 
the gentle winds a sacred message, 
His grand prescription like a dream 
that streamed out from the pillows of the heavens. 
I liked to wander by the sea shore 
skipping stones, disobeying laws of gravity, 
as a lamb on shaky legs, and tumbling freely without care, 
'til gasping, I would stop to catch my breath. 

The halcyon days of youth came true, 
when I would race forever 'neath the tawny sun, 
bedaubed in Autumn's blood, the flame 
a blend of hues the likes of which 
would make a young boy doubly blind, 
and lead him into kingdoms where the battlefields 
would blister scarlet, happy times 
that made me see my childhood clearly. 

The weather turned again, and shanties 
high atop the hillside loomed like castles drifting 
in the sea-blown mist, the noise of boats, 
their nets pulled, nudging at the jetty. 
From the sand the village was a hazy spectre, 
the chapel steeple peeking like Rapunzel's lair, 
her hair a daydream falling soft, 
O fanciful imagination! 

I thought to when my mother took my hand. 
We skipped the cobblestones and shopped for wishes, 
(toys which we could ill-afford; 
a Batman cape, a red fire engine.) 
The lanes were thick with merchants and the joy of life, 
haggling, chattering like crazy seabirds, 
loud, and mouthing their wants and wares, 
and then we wandered home exhausted. 

I never lost my youthfulness, 
my joy at seeing herons preening, eagles floating 
high on zephyr'd breezes free as spring; 
hallowed times, in Jesus' presence. 
I measure now my moments as the hours shift by, 
thirty years and blissful, regrets are slight and few, 
I count my blessings, feel content 
that tribulation never came to trouble me. 

A birthday cake is waiting for me, 
candles flicker, frosting beckons, hope eternal; 
my wish the same, for peace on earth 
to all men, greetings and goodwill! 
I lie down in the close and holy quiet 
while the village sleeps, and slips toward a new adventure, 
safe in His keeping, perfect day 
with promise of a bright tomorrow!

Deceit

Whispering in the dark,
Your hand around my waist 
I hear you say “you love me”
All I hear is the deceit in your breath.
You been creeping, thinking I didn’t know.
Laying here with my eyes wide open.
Pretending to sleep, you don’t even notice.
But how can you when your being is laced with lies.
I feel the young girl's hands on yours.
Her sweet purrs rock your body and transcends into mine.
I am a woman and I know.

It’s dark out, its dark inside,
Will you ever admit your infidelity?
Or will it get worse by morning light.
The girl be calling everyday when you in the shower,
She be texting while you eat my breakfast.
You turn,kiss me goodbye, your smile reminds me of the devil.
As I watch your silhouette dance towards the woman you creep with.
Do you even notice the rage and the thunder? 
Or you just cast a blind eye and carry on. 

Your band feels heavy on my hand.
It’s a diamond I adored once,
But now all I see is sand, why does it even sparkle.
When the sparkle I had is now an icy stare of hate.
You call during the day, tell me you miss me.
I wonder how you can say that,
Do you even miss me or you just need a beacon.
A woman who will catch you when you fall?
I hear her voice in yours, I hear the echoes that still my soul.

I can’t even blame her, I am not even mad at her.
I can’t help but wonder, if she even knows.
If she does, she is set for a life of mishaps.
No bad deed ever go unpunished.
If she doesn’t, she is set for a life misery.
I can’t even be mad at him.
This emotion that I have has surpassed.
I feel nothing but rage multiplied.

I gave him my all, he gave me His all.
It’s all up in flames, it’s all up in ashes.
You obviously can’t be seeing with your soul.
For your eyes are now a mirror of misconception.
You will not even notice my dry tears,
Or the wave of fire in my bones.

Will it surprise you if you wake up alone one night?
I doubt it would, that’s why my fear has melted.
How can I leave in the midst of a situation?
A situation I can easily fix, maybe you would notice then.
Will I use a piece of steel, to silence you immediately?
For silence is what your love has been for two years.
Or will I just choke you, leave your breathless.
For all those nights you breathed out perfume and lust.
Will I even call it even or will I walk and forget you ever existed.

© Herzel Poshiwa

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