Long Slide down Poems
Long Slide down Poems. Below are the most popular long Slide down by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slide down poems by poem length and keyword.
Daybreak dangled in foggy strips.
Mizzle had mugged the day,
grey-flecked cuckoo spit
smuggled summer under hoary roots.
Bill formed an Indian gang
to snatch the light back.
Later, parting the scalp of a hedge
we saw the sun
tangled in an old hawthorn.
Meg, (Bill’s sister),
wanted to shin-up and dislodge it.
There was a chance
we would see her knickers
so we gave her a leg-up.
Her skinny limbs
snaked through the spiky twigs.
Half-way to the top
the sun cut loose, drifting
beyond her reach.
Meg whooped and almost fell.
We boys grinned as her bare legs
slide down onto our shoulders.
Bill looked at us
as if we were all crazy.
It was a strange sort of day
A Heavy treacley sky
That seemed too thick
For any bird to even try to fly.
The city lay in waiting for
Celebrations to begin
The Fiesta of Fiestas
Days of mildly hedonistic sin.
He Danced a Mexican Hat Dance
His sombrero slung on the floor
And then to rapturous applause
He went and Danced it once more.
The Toreador in the corner
Sipped at his third Pink Gin
And waited for the Marshal
To signal the Fiesta to begin.
There were Castanets and Maracas
And a heady Flamenco Guitar
To disturb the sleeping drunkard
As he snored away in the bar.
It was all a much of a nothing
Thought the resident Fiesta clown
As he fingered the tasselled rope
That let the scenery slide down.
Over in the Central Prison
Warden served tea in every cell
Then notified the residents
By three rings of the prison bell.
Just a matter of routine he thought
As he picked up his sombrero hat
And walked quietly back home
To feed his waiting tabby cat.
Tomorrow just after dawn would
Start much more of the same
As they entertained the tourists
In their daily entertainment game.
It’s the same the whole world over
They’ll make do with the tried and trite
Do long as it’s sunny and warm
And they get the timings just right.
I took my granddaughter to a park…and as I watched her running to and fro
I wondered what advice I could give her…you know…advice to help her grow…
Perhaps I’d tell her:
Life is to be lived…don’t always do what’s right.
Don’t always color within the lines…by all means fly a kite.
Believe in yourself when others don’t…ride in a boat upon the sea…
Stop to count the stars at night…at least one time…climb a tree.
Do the best you can in all you do…If you make a mistake…don’t fret.
Watch the sunrise in the morning…and in the evening watch it set.
Swing on a swing, slide down a slide…run…for no reason at all.
Enjoy the warmth of summer, the birth of Spring…and the changing leaves in Fall.
Eat ice cream whenever you want… hug…and kiss…and share….
Never knowingly hurt another being….sometimes…it’s okay to swear.
Travel to new places…learn to ride a bike without any hands.
Never be in hurry to grow up…smile as often as you can.
Do what you know is right…don’t be afraid to take a chance…
Sing whenever you feel like it… feel free to cry and laugh and dance.
Love life when everything is bright…and love life when all is black
for you’ll find if you love with all your heart…the world will love you back.
These thoughts will get you started…I’d say…but I’m sure once you’re grown…
you’ll be a wonderful person…with opinions of your own.
And perhaps one day you’ll watch your own granddaughter…running to and fro…
and you’ll have your own advice to give her…
you know…
advice to help her grow.
With a gentle hand, he caresses my bare skin
Warming breaths send tingles across my chest
Beating out a rhythm to soothe and arouse
Feelings of tenderness, willing me to touch him
When I embrace him, brushing my lips against his
There is the promise of revelation blushing within
Whispers of dewdrops slide down my thigh and melt
Along his chest, there is a powerful presence of potency
Wherever my nakedness touches him with yearning
There beckons a sigh that mesmerizes me with desire
Reaching beyond my lips, my body, into the core of my being
Heartfelt intimacy which lingers within my spirit’s hope for more
Welcoming me to trace my lips across his bare cheek
He is eager to lean into me, aching to feel my vulnerability
Excited to the depths of dreams and fantasies, he strokes
The edge of my waist, my thighs, my cheek, my heights
With a craving that implores me to feel the craving I feel for him
Dedicated to graceful fondling which encourages me into reveries
Aspirations of haunting love which colors my world in passions
Bestows my hungry heart with nostalgic plans for what is to come
Whimsical mysteries enchant me with their dreamlike feelings
Imploring me to adore this man who enhances my longings for affection
A sense of pure, secret seclusion for the two of us, two who are one
Hot fury for more, wanting, welcoming, waiting for what will come
Whatever transpires between our two souls, our two appetites
For the flesh to feel a fresh rainbow of emotions arising, enlightening
Creating a sense of deep fervency within us, telling us to share
This ambiance of freedom, wanton, spontaneous fire of sweet sensuality!
Sensuality Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
June 25, 2020
When I don’t know how to pray
And everything I could think of to say
Has been whispered, a supplication
Entreating Jesus, my life’s foundation…
I feel a tear slide down my cheek
And God knows the healing I seek
Will He answer with a cure?
I believe His grace will endure
When I don’t understand this disease
Cancer tells my spirit to fall to my knees
No one I know can explain this war
There isn’t a doubt it’s a grief I abhor
I feel the pain grow in my soul
Yes, it’s true that cancer stole
Pieces of my peace, my hope and belief
Will our lives ever know sweet relief?
When I don’t know what is happening
And the dread in my spirit – battling
This darkness, these shadows, this fear
All my life has changed – but God is still near
I feel the lost that colors me gray
I bow to Him who is love and I pray
For God to heal this disease, this war
These are feelings we can’t ignore
When I don’t know how to seek His grace
I listen to the Psalms, feel His warm embrace
Rising from the fear that leaves me yearning
I rest in the promises of a love that’s burning
I feel like he’s gone through the worst of the worst
And I know that he must be feeling like he’s been cursed
But there is Jesus and He shows us that there’s hope
If we’ll only listen in faith, He’ll help us to cope
When I don’t see my blessings for the shadows of doubt
I know that my Father is still seeking me out
And though I may not understand the why or how
I believe God is able and He’s with us right now
I feel alone sometimes, like I haven’t a chance
But I look at the darkness of this circumstance
And I know that Jesus can kill cancer completely
I know He can heal and I feel His love so deeply
When I don’t know the way and I just can’t say
What it feels like to face this – oh, I just pray
Whatever happens, in the day or night
There is a Father who makes all things right
I love my husband and I pray that I can be his helper
In this dark time, I hope he feels I’m a shelter
And I seek the Savior with prayers and praise
Knowing that He is worthy – His love can still amaze
So if you can take a moment to say a quick prayer
Please pray for God’s healing – I know you’re aware
Cancer is a killer and we’re praying it won’t prevail
Pray for God’s grace to destroy cancer’s hell
Broken is the mechanical clock
Broken is the bloody heart
Broken is the memories of youth
Broken is the will
Broken as the world turns and spills
Broken is the passion!
Thoughts Fleeting to space
with nothing to film, to remember
Broken is the heart
watch the gears spill!
I tried to repair it with mechanical parts
feeling ill of will
I have destroyed eons of time wanting to kill
I have thrown away all the memories
watching them slide down
the windowsill...
I have undermined the heads of state
I have felt broken in my will
I have collected the passions
taken the little pill from a
fractured fragile little jar
Ruby hue n tone, a dream dreamt alone!
My dreams are barren
My feet feel fractured
My hands fraid
MY vision delayed
Feeling lost as my love
The killing of a lone dove
You have broken my soul
I see all my skeletal remains:
“will you repair it with mechanical parts,
will you set the clock, wind the crown, watch it pass
into the time, sublime, drifting through
my memories”?
Broken is the machine
Broken at the heart
Broken are my memories
Broken in my soul, cold
Broken as the world turns & burns
Broken are my passions!
Thoughts running out of space
with nothing to see, no memory
Broken is the everything
watch the wires turn
Can you repair what is damaged?
Can you fix me?
I think not…..
In the house it is dry and warm, but in the fields snowflakes fall and form.
The winter air, wet and cold, on cotton stalks they find a hold.
They play together, white on black, clinging in a pile on an old cotton sack.
All up and down the wet gravel road, rocks start to hide under the white snowy load.
We sit together around the warm wood heat, sitting our chairs with straddling feet.
Grandmother wrapped in an old bedspread, holds a little baby, sleepy but fed.
Over in the corner where the big box stood, we stack up kindling and a cord of wood.
Around the radio we sit together and listen to the opera, news and weather.
The light of day turns to night, the moon shines down on fields of white.
I walk the path where feet had trudged with a dim flashlight, muck and mud,
takes me down to the out- house shack, do my business and hurry back.
We sit by the heater where the fire-light trace, the flickering light on Grandpa's face.
So, I make my nest in the warm feathered bed with cover pulled up over my little toe head,
saying my prayer before I sleep, asking the “Good Lord,” for my soul to keep.
We wake in the morning to a snow covered day, “Keep the doors closed,” I heard them say.
We go to town in a ragged pick-up truck, slide down the road in the snow and muck.
Down at the store we warm our backs, gather around the heater both white and blacks
Buy a grape soda with a five- cent piece, load up flour and a can of grease.
As night comes around, we do our choirs bring in wood from out of doors,
Sitting together around the heater to warm our feet, listen to the radio before we sleep.
Grandfather, Father, Son- three legends are:
they served their City service very well.
From 30s through the 80s, each a star;
as Firemen- many dangers each befell.
Three generations gladly took their stands;
not volunteers, but full-time, active shifts.
Grandfather in his open truck commands
the horses over cobblestones and drifts.
And next, his Son became a Father too-
and followed this career for many years.
His truck was motorized, no horses flew
by galloping to scenes with hidden fears.
At night men slept on bunks for just a while,
for guaranteed, the bell would blast alarm.
Quickly, they'd slide down on the poles by file
to race, and quell the fire- downsizing harm.
At times, some lives were lost when fires won;
and Firemen, although skilled, had fallen too.
But that did not deter this Father's Son
from following these footsteps when he grew.
Then, generation number three joined in
to follow on this path to serve and give;
this dedication he had learned within
his family who showed him how to live.
Our number three- my Husband- I'm so proud!
Former Marine, he served our City well;
rose to Assistant Chief, then was avowed
a legend of Three Generations spell.
To date, these three are still the only ones;
served sixty years through Fathers and their Sons.
I want to live on Sugar Mountain
Where life is syrupy sweet
With Candy cane trees and Chocolate fountains
All the sweet treats you care to eat
I'll hike the trails of Candy buttons
Supporting myself with a Pixie stick
Being careful of the sugar muffins
So that I don't stumble over and trip
I'll fish the day away in Vanilla lake
Throwing back all that I catch
So that it keeps the lake churning and sweet
Swimming free the Swedish Fish
I'll slide down Lemon drop hill
With my friends the Gummy bears
Later we'll try our luck on Licorice Stilts
All sporting wigs of Cotton candy hair
As the sky grows a Dark Chocolate evening
We'll lay our heads down on soft bubble gum
All the while asleep and dreaming
Of the sweet days that are yet to come
Living a life on Sugar Mountain
Where all is syrupy sweet
With Candy cane trees and Chocolate fountains
And all the sweet treats you care to eat
Step Outline- Hiking Trail (A Horror)
Prologue
Ext. Woodland Park, Upstate California- Sunset
It’s mid-autumn, hot. A week before school starts, there’s a family gathering. A young woman is arguing with her father. She’s holding onto her food. Then, she grabs her purse and storms off. Her father calls after her, but she’s heading into the mouth of the woods.
ACT I
Ext. The mouth of the woods- Dusk
She walks along the hiking trail, grumbling about her father. She takes a bite of her hotlink and complains about leaving her beer behind. She isn’t alone.
Int. Feelings
She wants to have one family outing where she doesn’t fight with her dad. It’s the same repeating argument, just a different scene. He always eats away at her good time. Why can’t Dad let me be?
Ext. Right at the throat of the woods- Dusk
She shouts to the listening woods she doesn’t want to return to her father. And the beast that’s stalking her listens.
ACT II
Ext. Swallowed by the woods- Dusk
The beast watches the woman slide down the woodland path. She’s speaking to herself aloud.
Int. Thoughts
Are her troubles so loud that they have to escape her body? If the beast sinks its teeth into her throat, will her words of anguish spill out with her blood? And then she shouts she doesn’t want to return to her father. If she doesn’t have any plans to leave the woods, he should have his fill.
ACT III
Int. Inside the belly- Dark
There are blistering bubbles below her. She lost a shoe and three toes. The walls flex and relax against her crawling hands. She didn’t know someone was tailing her and listening. She was so consumed with her fight with her father that she got devoured by another man.