Long Sloppy Poems
Long Sloppy Poems. Below are the most popular long Sloppy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sloppy poems by poem length and keyword.
My girlfriend's coming over
And I'm looking to impress
Thought I'd whip us up some dinner
So there's no time to regress
I drove a couple of miles
To the local grocery store
Grabbed everything I needed
And then rushed right out the door
I got back to my kitchen
And broke out my pots and pans
Wrapped the filet mignon in bacon
And secured with metal bands
I've been cooking all my life
And I love it to this day
A master in the kitchen
Like Iron Chef Bobby Flay
At the stroke of seven thirty
I heard a knocking at my door
She came in looking like a Queen
Wearing a smile and not much more
After a hug and sloppy kiss
I then took her by the hand
We sat down at the table
And our dinner then began
To enhance the steak filet
I sauteed a little shallot
Like a taste dropped from Heaven
So exquisite on the palate
More than halfway through the meal
We were both just feeling fine
It may have been the food
Or our second glass of wine
Then to finish off our dinner
With a final bit of YUM
I made Bananas Foster
And flambeed it with some rum
The expression on her face
Was a look of sheer delight
The last thing on the menu
Will be sweet sweet love tonight
Marvel of fond Mother-Nature,
Carefully carved nomenclature!
Mountains fold hands toward blue skies,
Where stars flutter, like, butterflies!
Water-waves warmly wash the feet,
Fleets on sleets meet around and greet!
High, steep, sharply molded boulders,
Stand in accord holding shoulders...!
Solitary human standing,
On a broken cliff crash-landing!
A bird flying around its edge,
To build her nest, finding no hedge!
An owl dwelling in a small hole,
Lost as though with a restless soul!
Bats, waiting for the silent night,
Alike, are, bleak views of cliff- sight...!
Suffering writs of erosion,
Churned by chisels of corrosion!
Carved, compiled, combined, conditioned,
Into wild bird-beaks protruded!
Steeply, slippery, surfaces,
Sloppy, soapy, still, circuses!
Cliff has its captivating charm,
That until disturbed does no harm...!
11 January 2022
C Form - Couplet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
We met online,
I was drawn to his sexy pic;
a tall guy leaning against a Harley,
oh yes, I was smitten.
We agreed on a coffee date for our first meet,
I was sitting at my table waiting for Mr. Hunky;
getting more nervous,
then, I heard a guy say to me- hello beautiful !
I was in shock,
and lost for words- wordless;
for this guy would not be sexy ever,
in fact, never, ever.
He said- you look just like your picture- gulp,
and I replied, well you don't- where is your Harley;
and your leather jacket,
oh, have not had that for twenty years- he said !
And the worst part,
was that when I looked at him;
I did not see sleek black riding boots,
there were no tight fitting jeans either.
in fact, this was a person dressed quite sloppy,
he looked like he just rolled out of bed in fact;
and on his feet,
he was wearing blue fuzzy socks and purple crocs !
____________________
June 9, 2021
Poetry/Free Verse/we met online
Copyright Protected, ID 06-1362-299-09
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Fuzzy Socks and Crocs
sponsor, Francine Roberts, Judged 07/11/2021
Please don't ask me to mince my words
If you talk crap I'll call you all turds.
I'll say how it is, I'll make no bones,
I'm not a believer of glossed over tones.
You've been hired to work, no doubt about it,
You'll work to the bone, and follow my writ.
I am your slave-driver and you are my slaves,
I am boss over here - make sure everyone behaves.
A wee bit late, you sheepishly state?
You'll work overtime, you'll work till its late.
I'll hear no excuse, for this you'll pay
There'll be no compensation at the end of the day.
If your work is too sloppy, I'll immediately fire,
Be quick on your toes, for there are plenty I can hire.
And I hate tardiness, want results that are quick,
And forget about illness or calling in sick.
Yes there is a dress code and you'd do well to abide,
No Mohawks or dreadlocks, no shaggy burns on the side.
I hate jeans and T-shirts and don't roll up your sleeves,
If you are not very happy, I just don't care for your peeves.
If any excuses you have, leave them out at the door,
You'll be relieved of your duties, made to pack up for sure.
If disgruntled you are , want to use the Union's might,
Remember I am the Boss and - THE BOSS IS ALWAYS RIGHT!
~18 Jun 2016~
I. Partial Eclipse
The carousel broke loudly.
We made them laugh.
We made them love.
II. Total Eclipse
If you want passion:
The un-filtered wild joy of heaven and the sacred warming gold,
Seek no more:
Our afterlife is in the herelife,
An unsanctifying rim of coexistence,
A love unvarnished,
Uncleansed,
Sloppy like a junk-filled pick-up,
A warm, hard smile,
The soft, woven kiss,
The thoughtful eye-brow,
The tickle of a snowflake,
The fading pause of the ever un-thoughted pulse
And the fluid motion
We gave no name
In our readiness of love.
We sink to be.
We think to be.
So grow and glow and grow and glow again
In the round and round and round of the carousel we go
For a new moon has arrived
To be shone upon and ever spinning globe.
III. No Moon
The globe
The strobe
The harrowing roads
The blighted, borrowed souls
And I'm tired of poetry, moons, and everything bright.
I wish for a damp cold firmament
In hushing grace with whispering goats and snoring lambs
Where nothing sneezes and nothing aches.
Just the dream-time manger and tired eyes.
The glaze of these images is all I dream for now
As I trek and breathe through wire and meshing
Fighting self against selflessness,
Finding all is greed, the chemical survival,
And love is a feeling we invented to save ourselves.
We will point to the light
But few walk towards it.
We just show others
Where this silent plume pours outward
Into an endless beaming flood
alit pain and confusion,
A solid rigid ray
As in the absolute fixity of text on stone,
The stone plain and sad, like a tumor on the ground.
Kick it and be sore.
Love it and stay forever.
The carousel broke loudly.
It breaks everyday.
Whether or not we leave or stay.
Love or stray.
I think I hate writing poems about you
They stack up so fast, 1,2,3 this is 4 now
And they used to be a blast, I couldn’t wait to write you more. Now,
The warm, strong arms around me have been replaced with warm, wet tears
And God no I could never hate you
But I used to think I could see you at any hour, any time
Now to see you it’s like I have to scour for any dime
The comfort that I used to know has been replaced with only fears
I feel like I’ve been betrayed by you
That one night when I needed you the most I was alone
I ended up in the hospital and you say you’re trying to atone
We used to talk for hours, I’ve watched as your longing slowly disappears
At the end of the day, I love you
But my love feels so pathetic and one sided
My poems feel so sloppy and misguided
I used to cherish writing out our love for just our ears
Now I don’t know if any of it is true
And that’s why I hate writing poems about you.
3/6/15
Where an everlasting breeze exists
Across the trees and cliffs
It was just me and a ship
Lost at sea adrift
I didn't really need a wish
Because I believed in gifts
As I continued to feed the fish
While remembering to plead the fifth
I wondered if I was really gone, would I ever be missed
No matter how choppy
The waters got I would not let it stop me
Even though the shores were always rocky
And it would be rather difficult to get out scot free
It was no time to be sloppy
So after several cups of coffee
I no longer felt like a zombie
And left when it was foggy
Even though to some it would've been kamikaze
I made it and took a moment to celebrate at a palm tree
Then when I was home, I copied
The answers to life on a floppy
While others were bragging and boasting about a bugatti
I hit them with the force of a tsunami
it feels foolish
these rain prayers
deeply pondered
stranded in our shared heat
is there some unimaginable space
where prayers drift to?
free from time, reclusive
rain wishing
its pulsating pop that jumps up from pavement
a life force
puddling weeds from cracks
washing all, slick and sloppy
rain that settles a hot vacuum cooler
transfiguring gardens, a floral fanfare
rambunctious ramble
with carved trumpets of open orange lilies
in a retiring heat
we watch-wait for dark clouds in pinball collision
a meditation on living
for rain to bud the morrow, green
in a kettle drum beating
Happiness, the state of laughter and joy
Abandoning the abuse cage of woe, glum, and despair
Place yourself around loved ones you know that give
Positive criticism to become the person you decide to be
Inspiring you to grow and improve your world
Nourishing hope, faith, and trust
Enabling that acknowledgement to show,
Shouts echo of glowing encouragement leaving an impact of harmony
Summer sunset shinning smiles sloppy kisses of greetings from your dog
By: Eve Roper 12/14/2015
Poetry Contest: Happiness-Acrostic
Sponsored by:John Hamilton
I'm an unappreciative outsider unwilling to
bestow undeserved largesse or kudos for
sloppy "service". I express my displeasure
towards lazy incompetence; this gets me
critical complaints from dinner companions
for being "mean" to hourly workers who are
largely dependent upon gratuities from hungry
customers. I feel no obligation to reward surly
creatures I have never before encountered
nor abused. I simply want them to realize that
I will only pay for services freely rendered --
pleasant interactions with people who truly
and ably do their chosen job (they are not
indentured servants nor purchased slaves.)
They should, at least, be civil and, if not
exactly smiling, project intent to please,
to create an intentional atmosphere of
shared good humor. Let's all enjoy our
outings and be generous with the tips
we leave (when they are deserved!)
Enough said!