Long Slaking Poems
Long Slaking Poems. Below are the most popular long Slaking by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slaking poems by poem length and keyword.
Where once verdant rolling highlands...
Spanned into infinite vista
far as these myopic eyes can see
now yellowing Whitmanesque
leaves of grass encompass field of vision.
Nary a dark dreadnaught cloud in sight,
nor unbeknownst if/when threatening storm
looms on horizon slaking parched land
delivering precipitation quenching thirsty terra firma.
I too experience vicarious dehydration
during bonafide dry spell
constituting theoretical string
hoop fully curtails weather beaten
flora and fauna
conceding blindingly bright
cloudless summer days
across disc (sky)
to amply liquidate shriveling assets.
Unbeknownst when spate of rainlessness,
(i.e. I pray for moderate soaking precipitation)
thwarting immediate indications
meteorologically signalling onset
regarding definition of drought.
Nothing more humbling
than cacophonous thunderstorm
nsync with jagged bolts of lightning
accompanying drenching downpour
analogous to downed wall of water
cascading from upper atmosphere
intermittently pelting landscape
albeit immediately, magically, quixotically...
transforming parched land (Highland Manor)
into profuse lusciousness
harkening Edenic denouement.
Impossible mission (this simple bumpkin)
(one local Schwenksville yokel)
(Civil War union soldier incarnate)
to forecast today/tonight
eventide of June twenty fifth
two thousand and twenty,
when Zeus will doctor
animals and plants courtesy
of requisite life source
also known as H2O,
comprising above mentioned
two hydrogen atoms
and one oxygen atom.
Ironic, how approximately
three quarters (seventy five sense)
engulfs planet Earth,
yet many environments
suffer inadequate deluges,
more so now with climate change
(global warming) increasing temperature
across oblate spheroid
compromising habitable places,
yet methinks coronavirus (COVID-19)
gave mother nature
much needed reprieve
cleansing heavily polluted urban areas
courtesy partial lockdown and restraint,
whereby *****sapiens
deterred, jackknifed, prohibited...
spewing noxious forth fossil fuel byproducts
encouraging, mustering,
plying, telecommuting, zooming
avast array of activities
augmented by virtual reality
technology supplanting mass transit,
thus diminishing deadly toxins
absorbed by all creatures
great and small.
From a gentle sprinkling
That keeps the garden fresh and green
To a raging summer storm
Where lightening cracks and thunder roars
From a tiny little stream
Right up to an awesome flood
Constant is the flow of our Lord’s love!
Some might pray the Lord to bless
The desert’s heat and aridness.
Looking for the Savior’s pow’r
Their heart and soul to bloom and flow’r.
Nourishing their tiny seed
So, it grows and bears much fruit
Slaking every thirst with grace and truth.
Do not fear the darkened clouds
Or the distant thunder’s sound.
Nor the rain that you might hear
For it shows that our Lord’s grace is near.
While we wait to be refreshed
And be cleansed of every stain
His love already falls on us like rain…
God’s grace is falling from heaven above.
A precipitation of infinite love.
A gift undeserved but, God, grant us more!
Some might say, Lord, let it rain…
I say, let it pour!
Hand on thy hand, no walking distance
Under the yellow sun wandering glance
Silence of pebbles with the striding sea
Snail pace towards the soaked shore tree
The thirst grips the tongue of our mute love
Shadow of the coconut tree greets the dove
The rhythm of the streaming water notes hum
Swinging green coconuts clip the poetic balm
Flying Swallow gazes at the black cloud for slaking
Albatross shows infinity in the harmonious ring
Coconut leaves frolic for the whistling breeze
Our love is so centripetal like the coconuts fizz
Let’s drink the coconuts with the soul of poetic verse
Drink all so alike that none do slacken none can farce
Lean into me Luv,
abandon the logic of romance,
be naked in the nature of my need,
pant openly as weightlessness prickles your pink parts,
Tonight I do not want your love,
I don't deserve it anyway, a villian in exhuberance,
I just want the secrets of your sex, without plead,
to suck the salt of your secretion, feed on the spray of your darts,
Slaking my savagery with the skin of your submission,
unlocking the vault with nimble pick, to teach with a spanking stick,
having that naughty nook spilling a confession of capitulation, dizzy dilation,
an Angel of excess, I place your safety on a shelf of disarray, caution on delay,
I want to ravage the basement of your beauty, finding hot boxes of remission,
rummaging the attic of your aggressions with the precision of a magic trick,
I don't need you to be my nurse, a Nightengale of negligent rehabilitation,
I don't want the chill of charity, just the alarm of your domination in dismay,
Melt upon the mercy of my meat,
let me take the wet wisdom of your woman's weapon
smear it along the dagger of my undiagnosed demolition,
under a Blood Moon your body will flex without rest, hesitation does retreat,
I gently grip your throat, as I feel your moan in the soft palm of my hand's vindication -
J.A.B.
Twas a dark knight,
whence there came a pawn the hushed crowded movie house
A phantom of horror sprung out of the rookery that wrought deadly havoc
Renting asunder innocent audience members
Anticipating Batman annihilate evil within Manichean eternal duel
Extant within imaginary world of Gotham portrayed on the silver screen
When out of the black curtained theater tear gas canisters got hurled pell mell
Accompanied by a fusillade of heavy machine gun fire
Sheering many lives
Many in the prime ascent sans parabola of adulthood
The youngest, a six-year-old girl transformed into an ashen colored corpse
Which death yet revealed to her young mother
Critically wounded, and clamoring for said daughter
While teetering on the brink of mortality
Oblivious to stricken offspring
While family, friends, relatives and anonymous prayers
And this heartfelt genuine communiqué
From me – a self styled nonestablishmentarian
Gung-ho to invoke a mandate that high powered fire-arms
Must be much less accessible
I.e. bulletproof laws need implementation pronto
So inhabitants of these United States do not fear for their lives
Nor feel akin to a potential prey sighted in the crosshairs
Wantonly gunned down from some grinning joker
Slaking glee from mass killing as to appease unquenchable thirst
To avenge some psychotic nemesis gloating to slay
With a vengeance and contrived vendetta
Promulgating pandemonium and grisly bloody aftermath
Yet despite such horrific heinous atrocity
Bravery and sacrifice witnessed and extolled
From heroic instinctual motive to offer themselves as human shield
So that carnage less devastating than toll on madman’s hit list
Now in solitary confinement and even if executed
Would be a Pyrrhic salve to those forever deprived of loved ones
Burning with an eternal sorrow no matter
Generosity of cyber sympathizers across World Wide Web
Plus the president of these United States
Reach out showering kindness analogous to Borealis raiment!
Form:
way before aye knew
the name Fletcherism applied
tummy uncommonly (recherché) atypical dyed
in the wool feeding and/or slaking thirst guide
did precepts sans hungry
deaf eating beast impossible to hide
(the ferocious growling harassing imp -
armed to the figurative teeth ready to pounce
viz casus belli sans reeling off
a pseudo say id dish us vicious jeremiad
me, this unrepentant conscientious masticator,
who re: lied
on self control unbeknownst to this pumpkin eater
unwittingly followed
the basic tenet of Fletcherism - custom made
modus operandi vis a vis exercising okayed
mandibular metered (when famished),
eyes kept closed while tongue gently played
adhered to practice of eating small amounts,
which discipline stayed
engorging self, and as a result
(consuming sustenance
only when hungry avoiding
(wolfing like an instantaneous blitz krieg flash)
found me aware visa vis master car ding
marginal increase in pounds meaning
thy body electric weighed
approximately for long stretches
when a habitue at one or another dining digs
stuffed nibbling on hors d'oeuvre figs
adequately satiating with with oomf
when contra dance caller Scott Higgs
announced "hands four," which signal
helped get my mojo back
and reel lee deuce home jigs,
which kickstarted, syncopated,
oft times espying Bobbie Riggs
who years gone back whiz Vic Tory huss
e'en when donning apparel of Whigs
like colluding trump petting molecules
that via tiff Fanny doth zags and zigs.
re: visited tonight October 15th, 2021
Way before aye knew
the name Fletcherism applied
tummy uncommonly (recherché) atypical dyed
in the wool feeding and/or slaking thirst guide
did precepts sans hungry
deaf eating beast impossible to hide
(the ferocious growling harassing imp -
armed to the figurative teeth ready to pounce
viz casus belli sans reeling off
a pseudo say id dish us vicious jeremiad
me, this unrepentant conscientious masticator,
who re: lied
on self control unbeknownst
to this pumpkin eater
(me not named Peter)
unwittingly followed
the basic tenet of Fletcherism - custom made
modus operandi vis a vis exercising okayed
mandibular metered (when famished),
eyes kept closed while tongue gently played
adhered to practice of eating small amounts,
which discipline stayed
engorging self, and as a result
(consuming sustenance
only when hungry avoiding
(wolfing like an instantaneous blitzkrieg flash)
found me aware visa vis master car ding
marginal increase in pounds meaning
thy body electric weighed
approximately for long stretches
when a habitue at one or another dining digs
stuffed nibbling on hors d'oeuvre figs
adequately satiating with with oomf
when contra dance caller Scott Higgs
announced "hands four," which signal
helped get my mojo back
and reel lee deuce home jigs,
which indeed kickstarted and syncopated,
oft times espying Bobby Riggs
who years gone back whiz Vic Tory huss
e'en when donning apparel of Whigs
like colluding trump petting molecules
that via tiff Fanny doth zags and zigs.
Joe Licon
1904-1920
Who was that coughing at my side?
Which of my manly pallbearers
Leaned upon my casket
On that distant funeral day?
Who was it that yawned,
Loudly, sleepily, lazily,
On the day they covered my bones with dry dirt,
Here in the comfortable darkness,
Of shadowy Mt. Olive Cemetery?
Who was it that said: “I will miss him,”
Even when he began tapping his restless fingers,
One after the other,
Upon the wonderful mohogany finish,
Of my well-made polished coffin?
To whom do I credit for
The distilled drops of sated tears,
Which fell noisily upon the buttercups,
Dotting my newly-made grave?
My friends, don’t ever imagine that we,
the dead are dead,
When you, the living, bury us.
For we can hear your plaintive cries of “O,” moaning;
We can feel your grieving hearts, breaking;
We can taste your “tempest-tossed” tears, slaking.
So, my friends,
Who was that coughing at my side?
Kindly lend him a handkerchief, if you please.
Byte size food begets best bedeviled egg head benefits
re: visited today April 12th, 2023
Way before aye knew
the name Fletcherism applied
family and friends even
Smetana's bartered bride
would (tongue in cheek) chide
tummy uncommonly
(recherché) atypical dyed
ded if the letter “y” one did elide
in the wool feeding
and/or slaking thirst guide
did precepts sans hungry
deaf eating beast impossible to hide
(the ferocious growling harassing imp -
armed to the figurative teeth ready to pounce
viz casus belli sans reeling off
a pseudo say id dish us vicious jeremiad
me, this unrepentant conscientious masticator,
who re: lied
on self control unbeknownst
to this pumpkin eater
(me not named Peter)
unwittingly followed
the basic tenet of Fletcherism - custom made
modus operandi vis a vis exercising okayed
mandibular metered (when famished),
eyes kept closed while tongue gently played
adhered to practice of eating small amounts,
which discipline stayed
engorging self, and as a result
(consuming sustenance
only when hungry avoiding
(wolfing like an instantaneous blitzkrieg flash)
found me aware visa vis master car ding
marginal increase in pounds meaning
thy body electric weighed
approximately for long stretches
to enable safe passage for sturdy brigs
when a habitue at one or another dining digs
stuffed nibbling on hors d'oeuvre figs
adequately satiating with with oomf
when contra dance caller Scott Higgs
announced "hands four," which signal
helped get my mojo back
and reel lee deuce home jigs,
which indeed kickstarted and syncopated,
oft times espying Bobby Riggs
who years gone back whiz Vic Tory huss
e'en when donning apparel of Whigs
like colluding trumpetting molecules
that via tiff Fanny doth zags and zigs.
...To Save Strays Deserve Lagniappe
Ruff lee, e'er since
aye waz za lil whippersnapper
watt wit dis awful temper, yet
obedient to a pooch loving Aleut
til present moment, Asian ole mangy coot
this hot day (woof faux pas
dipping into animal shelter
donated water bowl)
filled to the brim with smoothie fruit
flavored slaking, moistening, cooling,
sans lallygagging tongue
doth wipe phlegmy ooze away,
where nearby a kazoo
playing labradoodle
accompanies mum
muttering prettifying self,
via quasi preening snout
when squeezed
automatically issues
honky tonk sound imitating hoot,
where passerine twittering
fly night passersby
toss bone fied token loot
and a Norwegian
bachelor farmer named Knute
Rockne took immediate
liking to yours truly,
who when scratched
itchy fur patches remained mute
imparting unconditional love
to petting man's best friend
hoof right then and there
Isaiah felt as top underdog
momentarily distracted
Fermi n Rico as petsmart necessary fix
reduced to that as newshound junkie
oft times in desperation
shine shoes ala boot lix
usually rewarded with bona fide prolix
about such a docile mix
breed to old for chase sticks
to learn super champing cheap tricks.