Long Slops Poems
Long Slops Poems. Below are the most popular long Slops by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Slops poems by poem length and keyword.
I watched the farmer do daily chores, year after year.
On hot days, those of snow, each morning he was here
before lavender light of dawn, he checked on his crops
tended to all the animals and fed the pigs their slops
Farmer Ben didn't talk a lot about what needed repairs
I'm just an old shovel, but I heard his humble prayers
We're old friends, so I sensed his worry and frustration
each time he clutched my handle, I felt Ben's desperation
There were times when only digging relieved his stress
and I helped him work off the concern he couldn't repress
We shoveled snow and broke up clods of the Earth's crust
Always taking care to clean me so I wouldn't start to rust
I'm gettin' kinda old. Been here thirty years, maybe more
Since Ben bought the farm, and me at the hardware store
I feel honored to hang on the highest hook on the wall
but didn't ever mind he used me to clean dung from a stall
Sometimes a gentle hand holds me in a garden of flowers
His missus keeps me busy in Spring, planting for hours
If a rock bed I hit while she went about with our spading,
she'd clear them with her hands, and the roots pervading
Don't know how much longer I'll be in working condition
but I'm not ready to be retired or put out of commission
When Ben needs me, from the wall he'll take me down
I'll always be ready and willing to help him break ground
I am a forgotten home
where people fall through slats in
floors wooden, scarred by pulled
furniture. Footprints lost under dust.
I am a derelict building
where industry once flourished.
Fires raged and pallets stacked.
Assembly lines ran in humming circles
eternal now form static loops lost
without worker. Ghost metal halos.
I am a garden overgrown
with crisscrossing blades and
thorns cursing from shadowed trenches.
Mud slops over once shining
pathways like greasy suds spilling from
sink, scrubbing at stains immortal.
I am a hollow man,
a hurt man.
I am a man devoid.
An airless body.
Inside the water
where they float or sway in their rusting roots
are horse tackle,
buggies,
unhinged parts of eighteen wheelers,
a girl on a tricycle, her bones still cycling in the drifting meld
circle squirrel and possum pelts,
The sludge of a dredging flow
tows bodiless pockets of former times.
No one can tell what is missing, what is still surfacing,
what is now lathered into womb-bearing suds.
A wake nibbles banks, it heaps up
headless pomades,
a filigree of funnel cake,
cotton candy,
half drunken sups of rum,
antedeluvian arrow heads,
the painted missing parts of the once and will be.
A momentous loss drifts by, is found by stooping gulls,
their screams almost musical
on a carousel wind.
Under the brittle reeds late summer copulates with
eddy,
churn
and jism.
There are corroding blooms between spent shotshells,
condoms colonize cattails,
belt buckles beckon
to forsaken underwear
that blossom now like pale squid.
The river slops together every wind-plowed recipe,
blends the newly-unearthed
with the long abandoned.
A backwash seeps moon-spills,
or drives a John Deere deeper into boggy entrails,
while barges slowly push each muddy footprint
toward empty shoes,
sunken slippers,
pumps,
loafers and boots
dropped somewhere between Pittsburg and the Mississippi
yet still moving along.
THE MOST DANGEROUS ROADS
i've got the head of a rattle snake
on the front end of my hood
i've got a chilled clorox drink
in my steel-knuckled hand
and we're rolling down I-10
across the stretch between Phoenix
to the Cali border and 85 deaths
a single year makes me quiver
shifting the stick to overdrive
Smiling as I rumble over America's
most dangerous road
kissing the guardrails
flirting with the slops
to side ditches so steep
but not as fun as I-15
from LA to Las Vegas I say
it's all the way or no
it's all the way or no
it's all the way or no
it's me spreading my ashes
across the country I love
it's me treading the coals
with a swizzle stick in my nose
yeah here we go
:: 03.05.2016 ::
Pouring down, non-stop for days.
Flowing endlessly in rivers.
Somewhere, down the drain,
Deceptive water, leaves the Soil bare!
Thermoelectric power generation,
Chemicals and effluents,
Wet processing or concretization,
Corn ethanol or vegetation,
Sewage, drainage and slops,
Landscaping and sanitation.
Its dwindling and still we have no hesitation!
Yes! It sucks staggering amount of water.
Still we need to shake people, so that they bother!
Who would deny?
We can drill till the last drop.
But what about the animals,
How far can we make them hop?
High time! Let’s change our perception, let’s widen our horizon!
Where ever we are born, where ever we may live,
Whatever we may think, but we are forever one!
Let’s pledge together to save water,
Neither for me, nor for you but for God’s every single creation.
14/05/19
Do you see the way she looks at me
As she asks what I'd like to eat
I'm not sure of what to say to her
But was that just a wink?
I'm not the only one standing here
That m'lady wines and dines
Yet another school year
In the Cafeteria line
You know she had me with the hair net
Matching the color of her eyes
The sexy way she slops spaghetti
On the plate next to my fries
There's really not a lot
A young school boy can do
As I dream about her from breakfast to lunch
In one continuous drool
She's the Cafeteria lady
Not to keen on her collard greens
But she does serve up a mess of mean
Nachos and young school boy dreams
It feels like the ship’s half mast
Mystery as history’s been recast
The last ghost of Christmas past
Impropriety savaging our society
Notoriety ravaging the entirety
Fake tyrants make migrants an outcast
Primal survival and tribal bible revival
Mormon iconoclasts in Gormenghast
The nub of pub hubbub have a blast
Cloned then dethroned closing fast
Snub our community hub flabbergast
Crowds roared as bands toured
New names explored heaven sent
Adored venues & events floored
Ignored by deplored property fraud
Hysterical dissent & lyrical lament
Landlord hell bent the rent soared
Even cricket’s oldest format now old hat
Temper at T20’s emperors new clothes
Every game the same just tit & more tat
But treasure troves as in roves the droves
Milk or silk for the ilk of that fat cat twa*
Farce of the hospo carcass hospitalised
Reign of the chain stops Mom & Pop shops
Locavore lair despair flair heirs marmalised
Flops grandstanding bland branding pops
Deranged how we are now so estranged
No one mops up the slops Laptops drop
Changed so fast for many trumpets blast
Hark back to the rose tinted halcyon past
As smart phones are overcome by dumb
Aghast say goodbye to the whole AI lie
The forecast for the future well overcast
Last post of the host & ghost of the past
The man made his way through the deep underbrush
The snow pelted against his face and thick fur coat
The forest quickly turned from brown to white
Snow kept on at a steady pace and he had to move
Or be caught in the raging storm that blew
He knew that as long as he kept moving
He would survive on his trek to the valley below
The snow mounted into banks quickly
Each step became more labored than the one before
The path became slippery on the downward slops
the steady pace slowed to almost a crawl.
The once clearly laid out path now
became invisible, he must pick up the pace
It was no place to be caught on the mountain slopes
during a blowing snow storm.
As he continued his trek he only hoped
that he was headed in the right direction.
For the blinding snow hid all from his sight
As the cold began to seep into his body
his fingers and feet no longer could be felt
Yet, he pushed on knowing that if he stopped
he would be frozen or fall asleep.
He pushed on and came to the bottom of the
mountain just before dusk.
His determination kept him going and thoughts
of his family remained clear in his mind.
He had made it home and counted himself lucky
to be alive for outside the storm still raged.
Early surprise snow storms can catch a person unaware
And he counted himself as one very lucky man.
As dawn starts to streak across the sky
heralding in the new born day.
Feisty rooster already perched on the wall
giving forth with all his might, he crows.
Sleepy hens, ducks and geese scat for worms.
Low moos emitting from the milking parlour
mingling with the sucking sounds of machines
as they gather the rich creamy milk in containers.
Banging of impatient hooves from the shire horses
hungry for their grain, tossing heads and stamping,
loud neighs and whinnies fill the early dawn.
Soon they will be at work ploughing and farrowing fields.
Farmhouse door opens smell of eggs and bacon wafting,
farmer's wife emerges carrying pails heavy with slops.
As she nears the pigsty the grunts and squeals grow
barging, pushing as they search for tasty scraps.
A caterwaul of noise from the rookery deafening,
as they wheel and spin around the yard thieving.
Slowly as the animals return to the sweet meadows
life settles back to normal, until tomorrows dawn.
written 09/15/2013
contest Nature
.
Yarrrrr
'course I know'd
my purty wanted tuh sail wit
her corsair
she be no landlubber
Thar
two lay'n'half mine cutlass
they laid curse her lay'n
with mine
this campaign
to the sharks the
devilz
To mine cabin
Wench
*hold on..."wench" wuz an endearing term
the dayz we now find enamoring ')