Long Slicker Poems
Long Slicker Poems. Below are the most popular long Slicker by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slicker poems by poem length and keyword.
I am watching liar
Go from tears to grace
With the same indistinguishable sallow face
And emotional state of fluxed empathy
The frown conceals
Beneath the brow of dirty tricks
Without a flicker
To wake's each day ever slicker
More experienced in the dark arts
His twisted seed imparts
On plundered heart's
Guilt and Shame
While he remains
In an impenetrable bubble
Distanced from the trouble
The court's denied
A jury of one's peers
From mouth to ears
In the defendants chair
And the media glare
As a lie is caught
And the jury can not be bought
Better late than never
But the Devil is clever
And he doesn't accept no as an answer
Ask his victim's
He doesn't adhere to the system
He prey's on it
As his power enabled it
1
I slow the chevy
then stop.
I turn around
and look back.
There, behind the bedroom window,
behind a lacy white curtain,
I see a figure,
a face,
a waving hand,
an old ghost
from a crinkled black and white,
arisen to meet me again,
kiss me again in this darkness,
returning to haunt
my matchboxes and combs,
the pretty Mexican girl
with the black medusa tresses;
She that licked my lips
when pressed against hers;
That is no ghost, or is it?
Let me squint these sated eyes
and double check.
I see the slicker girl of 17 years
dressed in ’69 day-glow
That’s her.
It’s not real. Never
2
Red girly fingernails
tapping the chevy seat,
always adjusting, turning
dark brown pantyhose,
and the radio,
always planning and conniving
a quick insecure glance
at a perfumed compact.
She opens her purse widely
retrieving the white slicker tube;
Then come the rituals
of lips and tongues and
sweetened spit ensuing there,
‘Hey Jude’ finding an angular perch
behind them.
3
“Is the door locked?”
Waves of Groucho
on a Magnavox console
emanating towards us
from the next room over
you and me are naked
beneath the whites
ridden in adolescent stains
squirming under the cracks
of raw unfiltered listening
to Pink Floyd smearing alive
the preposterous universe
using Moog synthesizer knives
as Janis from west Texas
sprawls on a ironing board
firmly positioned and plied
She rides the fast horse
two slippery hours ablaze
“Honey, could you turn the dial?”
4
Bill Balance slings eggs and
the Feminine Forum at 3,
riding the waxy airways
with staticky plumes
This dead disc-jockey is
breathing heavily again
into a ghostly microphone.
“Hey Alice, are you a married girl?
Do you have a nice body?
Do you have charging rhino haunches?”
5
“Come inside now.
Hide under these columns,
These stones of plastic marble,
As the world finally ends,
Finally trembles in the sinking sand.
Who knew? Right?
Joke’s on us, but honestly,
We all knew it was coming,
Hopefully later, but coming.
Who knew it would happen
Like this?“
I slow the chevy
Then stop.
The ocean beast leaps forward,
Then slinks back, lying in wait.
It tosses its billowy mane, and,
With a snarl, springs up and pounces
On the slippery black rocks of the jetty,
Frothing at the mouth and
Pawing at the slick wet stones,
Sending a shower of salty spray
And spume foaming over the seawall,
Drenching the cars creeping by
And the slicker-clad pedestrians.
The sea, raging in its fury,
Reaches me in that secret place
Where anger and frustration dwell.
I stand on the shifting sand,
Wave my fist and shout into the wind,
And the untamed wildness shakes out
My carefully tended hurts and slights
And tears open scarcely mended wounds,
Washing them clean with antiseptic
Sea and salt and sound and sight.
Tomorrow my wayward thoughts,
Just like the beach, will be swept clean.
The sea no more an angry beast!
A newborn day will find the bitterness
Dissolved in early mists of morn,
And my spirit once more lightened,
Free from petty gripes and fears!
The sea will sparkle in the rising sun
That glitters, dancing, on the waves.
And, deep within, there will be peace.
rondeau
Envision your route, it's quicker.
Like your crowds thinner or thicker?
Traffic can ruin a trip, no fun;
my choice - less-traveled paths, bar none.
country bumpkin / city slicker?
Long journeys can be a kicker;
on a bus, some snore, some snicker.
Think through your options one by one.
Envision your route.
Some folks will dally and dicker?
Others like to blame and bicker?
think ahead ere the trip's begun;
you'll be happier when it's done.
If you drive, don't drive on liquor,
envision your route.
written 07/27/12, revised 07/19/19
to meet requirement of 8 syllable lines.
Host: Charles Messina - Contest: Rondeau
Require the rain to reign in raising the grain.
While the umbrellas are up, don't strain.
We must persevere in the face of weather
That doesn't imply if it's freezing or hot.
And it wouldn't infer if we like it or not.
Drops of downpour landed on my brow.
There was no shade, I had some of it on the bough.
Mists are becoming thicker and more obtrusive.
Rain is dropping quickly as the mud gets slicker.
I made plans to manage with what I bore thicker.
My palm was firmly gripped by a moist duvet.
My hair is damp and sodden, and I start to sweat.
I made every effort to tuck my head.
I ran as quickly as I imagined I would.
Regardless, ignoring the previous hood.
I was urged to the floor and fell wholly over.
I accept that is all I'm persuading the sober.
without having planned ahead of time.
that was anticipated and came to pass.
If there's nothing visible, assay to bear a brass.
Written: March 15, 2022
You're a Weather Forecaster Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
Yellow Words—Used 10 times in the poem
Under the warm yellow sun
floating on the calm Yellow Sea
fishing for the sweet tasting yellow fin tuna.
My mouth waters at the thought of
tuna steaks slathered in spicy yellow mustard
while my old yellow lab snoozing on
my bright yellow rain slicker will have his share covered
in a yellow egg yolk sauce.
I tie the yellow lure to the leader anticipating
a rugged fight with the ferocious tuna.
A wayward yellow canary, blown to sea by the wind,
lands on my cabin roof. Perhaps I will have good luck.
I wear my yellow tinted sunglasses and look to starboard as
I prepare to stalk the elusive tuna.
For those who love the Hallmark reels
with stories that give all the feels
You’ll notice that in every one
there is the same web to be spun
The small town girl who comes back home
her city slicker job to roam
Has led her back to find romance
to give someone a second chance
And then, that interrupted kiss
that makes us wait for wedded bliss
Precedes that stumble and near fall
fair maiden saved by one so tall
Of course, there shines our Christmas glee
to warm the hearts of all who see
The Holidays will save the day
when lovers seem to lose their way
The cookie sales and Santa’s wink
That magic that still tickles pink
And knowing that it all will mend
about five minutes till the end!
So safe, so sweet, that Hallmark thrill
When such a show is on the bill
So make ye fun, if that must be
But there’s no bigger fan than me
Memory Poem In Apartment A - 1971
a brace of wine glasses standing tall on a kitchen table
greasy frying pan luxuriating immodestly in the kitchen sink
two forks and two knives bathing naked in the steamy water
vinyl black record spinning clockwise under a cool ceiling fan
music by beethoven caressing the hour with perfume sounds
clock on the television console ticking with slicker love-bites
purple pleated pillow breathing excitedly on a big green sofa
portraits of curious dead people peeping through glass frames
bowl of red fruit sitting ripe and ready on an oak dining table
wide open window allowing a red sunset through shy curtains
bathroom faucet in pink bathroom dripping rivulets of sweat
silent resplendent wall mirror staring with secret fascinations
a brace of wine glasses standing tall on a kitchen table
He was a bitter aging man
He’d never married
Had lost the love of his life
And never recovered
She had died before his return from war
Her parents’ home still stood there like a castle
He often gazed at it from his window
After their final family funeral
He became incensed when he heard
Some city slicker was moving into her house
And when that day did come, he took to spying on him
Cursing him, venomous and vicious
Vindictive and spiteful, inflamed with jealousy
Maliciously sinning by mischief and omission
Finally the bitter aging man did win
And the village prepared for another funeral
All his conniving had paid off
It was shortly after
That the tragedy was discovered
The two lovers had been separated by a letter
Lost and never delivered
Florette announcing her condition
Did not receive a reply
Had moved away in shame
And died on her own giving birth
AP: 1st place 2025
Faberette
is the name of my wild
and incorrigible cat...
down the stairs she scurries
to keep intruders off my door;
and she, with her sharps claws,
challenges the most vicious dogs,
who would like a match
on my newly carpeted floor...
without letting me breaking up the fight!
Faberette,
eat your food and grow strong,
they will be back with their groan,
but your meows won't do much;
let me teach you how to win a fight
and keep them off for good...
more faith you must have in me!
Faberette...
come here and jump in my lap;
Faberette...there's no need for fright!
They haven't bothered you for a week now,
they must have sensed a change indeed;
and like friendly dogs they play and crawl,
instead of pulling off your spotted fur!
And cautiously you mingle with them with minimal fear...
can cats and dogs in friendship suceed?
But a word of caution I should make you aware of,
not all of them can change
and remain tame for long...
Faberette, be slicker than they are!
Faberette,
on my leather couch lies
under a warm blanket...
I pat her, and her feline eyes
flash the warmest glow; and I couldn't be
more proud of this wonderful pet,
keeping me company and share moments of joy!
And on her birthday, I even buy her a kitten toy!
O Faberette,
my adorable cat!