Long Sitting duck Poems
Long Sitting duck Poems. Below are the most popular long Sitting duck by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sitting duck poems by poem length and keyword.
Dear soil of the Earth,
please hide me. I'm the last one left!
I repeat once more, the last one left!
I have no legs to crawl and hide.
And I'm so easy to spot when I fall.
Squirrels with perked-up whiskers
pick up my scent. I'm a perennial
favorite of theirs, you see. I'm a snack...
they enjoy munching on. Or perhaps
more than a snack? Aren't I all they eat?
Let there be a gale so I'll be blown
far out of sight. I'm target no. 1!
Let there be a raging flood to
wash me away. Why do I always feel like
a sitting duck? God willing, I'll grow
into an oak tree before a squirrel finds me!
I hate feeling the sharp teeth of a rodent
digging into me. Oh, the anxiety! The horror!
The dreadful anticipation! What the hell
makes me so edible anyway? I have no taste!
Submitted for....
The Last 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
Date written: 12/02/2020
Date originally written: 04/18/2020
My skin crawls as I watch a hand,
disembodied,
reach yet again into the Tollhouse bag.
Bright, artificial yellow. It burns my eyes.
Countless chocolate chips are shoveled down my gullet
as if crumbs to a wretched, starving creature.
I’m only jarred out of my sinful haze by catching si th r of my reflection.
That face staring back at me - I don’t know it.
Dry, lifeless eyes,
the expression of a corpse,
chocolate smeared on the edges of my mouth.
Disgust rises like bile in my throat.
This stranger lives a soft life.
Hours spent lounging by the fire,
fleshy stomach warm and sated,
screen filled with ads and the inane,
I have never known struggle.
The world blazes with fire
and the screams of dying children surround the soul,
so I employ synthetic numbing agents.
Blue light has seared my nerve endings into inactivity
while glucose rots me to my core.
Do my vices truly dim the pain of helplessness?
Or do they simply induce a coma of false innocence
until I’m able to face the world?
“My” face stares back at me,
haunted and hated.
I am vitriol,
bottled up and consumed.
For consumption is the only skill we have left;
purses and devices and anything worth a cent are
boxed up,
framed with silver tongues,
and shoved down our throats faster than we can blink.
And we take the poison,
digesting it like the obedient cattle we are.
Not even thousands of victims can rouse us from our stupor,
willingly chosen to numb the conscience and the void
yawning from self-inflicted purposelessness.
Ibuprofen for the guilt of privilege and powerlessness.
I choke on the silver spoon from which I’m fed these pills
but find I swallow regardless.
I received an exciting soup mail
I’m minted, with wealth off the scale
But I know it’s a fraud
By some bloke from abroad
These fraudster’s should be put in jail
Got a call from a ‘Microsoft’ guy*
His fake story I did not buy
Said he’d turn off my ‘puter
And re-route my router
He told me just lie after lie
These scammers just want a quick buck
They try to find a sitting duck
They’re after our money
It sure isn’t funny
Their unscrupulous actions just suck
We have had several calls from 'Microsoft' saying our computer is at risk and they can help protect us ... I just put the phone down on them. Unfortunately an elderly friend of ours got taken in by their persistence and when it got to the you need to give us your bank account details part he realised it was a scam and wouldn't give his details but he had inadvertently given them access to remote control his PC and they put a password on it so he couldn't get into his files. It took my hubby several hours to sort out, remove the software programme they were using to control the PC and get the computer back to him so he could use it.
7/7/18
I guess when I’m sad
I get stuck
I waste time thinking like a sitting duck
Then I quickly and effortlessly get everything done, plus one
Perfection is still a mystery of illusion
I hold as mine
It's an exhausting cycle that I have been on I'm working around old ways and old ought's
I ought to be working 9-5 at a desk
Slaving away for nickels and dimes until my retired breath
No, you worked your behind off
to be away from the loud crowds
Yet somehow you manage to make something out of nothing, with everything you have
I mean, wow
Yes, losing time thinking of lost time
And what to do with upcoming time
Just thinking
Then Reacting in the nick of time
Insanity
I say psycho when you ask me to describe my insides
But don't ask me
As I have mentioned
I already overthink so clearly just assume
When I am distant it's not you it's me
I am thinking about the countless absences I have been present but missing
An award for 100% attendance of self
Still cannot be awarded to me
Still missing days here and there
But that's progress from this time
Last year
I'm working on all my parts
Still
The thoughts will come
And they won't stop until
My brain decides
it's time to power off
I don't know when that will be
I just know when I'm sad and alone
I get stuck
With hundreds of thoughts keeping me company
Forcing me to think each thought to its complete
Trying to be perfect
Will remain a mystery of illusion to me
His mom always yelled at him,
" Get up, Jed and get to work;
move your lazy butt, sitting duck
and stop hanging out with Kim! "
" Wait, until I finish my gin, mom! " "
He sarcastically replied with a grim.
These silly words were shouted with contempt
by Jed, as he watched Kim play with reddish loam;
yuck! his lips smelled of Gordon's alcoholic drops!
" Let the horses get hungry and thirsty,
I need a minute to get up until dizziness stops,
I'll feed them hay, but they should roam
and eat pasture grass ..that's more healthy!"
" Do as I say, or your salary will be less than you expect! "
His angry mom brandishing a wood rolling pin,
" Get up and tend to the horses! " She ordered with disdain.
And stumbling on logs and branches
Jed complied by sticking out his moist tongue,
" I am as stubborn as a spoiled brat...
nobody can change me with tools and threats:
a cowboy's habits are hard to break like his image,
I comply and put on this straw hat! "
Smoke signals rise from Sitting Duck cavern
In town the Pitt gang are trashing the tavern
John Wayne strolled in and he ain’t here to dance
They say that he walked like he just sh*t his pants
Don’t be a doubtin, that Marshall ain’t messin
A man ain’t alone when he’s got Smith n Wesson
An outlaw’s revolver, a volley of lead
A slug on the rebound leaves Rick O’Shey dead
Wayne chewed his cheroot and a grin split his lips
Hands above holsters gainst each of his hips
‘Sonny Pritt, I’m here to banish your ilk
So get off your horse and drink your milk’
Pritt said I won’t stand here in fear of my life
For a man with an Indian brave for a wife
You stand there and tell me you’re Marshall John Wayne
You wanna think whose side your on... just sayin
Wayne said don’t you try it, don’t one of you frown
One out of place twitch, and I’ll cut you all down
Pritt said I think we should take this outside
So shoot me or follow, I’ll let you decide
He ducked the swing doors and stepped out of the tavern
And read the smoke signals from Sitting Duck cavern
I think what it says is, ‘Hey you, in the town
Many men try to bring my white man down
He’s braver than one of Geronimo’s sons
But tell him come home... He’s forgotten his guns.’
21 January 2021 (abridged for contest’s line limit)
Contest: Cowboy
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
When it rains it pours
Bad luck soars
You're falling apart
Behind closing doors
When the lights go out
You're consumed with doubt
Your losing your voice
But dying to shout
The domino effect
Your life is a wreck
One wrong move
And you sprained your neck
A stroke of bad luck
You're a sitting duck
You try breaking free
But your body is stuck
In sets of three
Inevitably
You aren't superstitious
But begin to believe
Will it relent
Your last penny spent
You bang on the walls
But can't make a dent
A thud on rock bottom
Devouring a crumb
The sound of silence
A high pitch drum
The end
It took along time to make sense of it,
runaway problems sitting duck intensive,
the life it sucked,
I never believed all areas of my life could turn on me
while no one would do what right,
alone all the time in a losing fight,
picked the wrong tactics they changed my life
went down like a warrior slowly dies
so surprised as each life line provides no life
just a line lead to a guy
the cheek of friends who said I lie
they wonder why their sliced
so much happened so did I
somehow knew to say goodbye,
but now I get it and the reason's known
I can forget and go on my own
conclusions of the boss reveal
she’s ugly she’s stupid and mentally ill
or impaired, a text book narcissist I shouldn't care,
Sarah there are things I could do to you,
but your punishment is being you,
I would hate to be you
selfish egotistical and delude,
can’t handle criticism when most adults can
a head believing you’re so important
someone slow to understand
areas of your life always dormant,
my existence is what you envy
popular handsome and always trending,
cus I was basically the man in that hotel,
it’s not big headed it’s on reflection,
I had a thing with all the girls in reception, but you
many in the restaurant and housekeeping too,
when men attacked me I knocked them senseless
took their girl and sweat the mattress,
and friendship was something you never knew,
no one wanted to be around you, miserable mood,
i've won sporting medals
you jumped around at one gnvq,
no honour in your mantle
and I’ve got 4... more than you,
I don’t even know what they’re for,
your punishment Is being you
and nothing more
I would hate to be like you
you do all the things I don't do,
I charm girls men arms length from you
you slander I lend a hand
you're short fat and small
I'm athletic broad and tall
I've wit and you're a bore
you stab backs and attack backs
you're a sad act
avoid head to heads brain dead
evil perspective inner and "best"
someone to disrespect and detest
have a good life you hopeless mess