Long Smack Poems

Long Smack Poems. Below are the most popular long Smack by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Smack poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member The Bird in Black

I strolled onto a forest glade
to hear a bird in concert serenade,
but when I heard him speak, 
this issued from his beak,

"I'm not the bird you seek.

Some birds with pretty voices sing,
while those of broken heart and broken wing 
have no worm on which to snack.

Some birds wear colors, bright, 
and look so beautiful in flight,
while the hapless hit a wall and..."smack!". 

But, I'm no such bird.  This inky crow
(while there are birds that don't know which way to go,
in this world of birdy woe)
won't sing like Perry Co-MO,
or flaunt the colors of the rainbow. 
I am the bird in black."
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Sea Life

A dance of elegance they leap
in grace of movements sweep
moonlights skipping on the waves
upon the circuits the currents paves

A Spanish Dancer twirls her skirt
whose painted like a rainbows shirt
Your works oh Jah blanket the Sea
where creatures frolic internally

Where Leafy Dragons in Reefs foray
the clown fish in anemone play
the razor fish like knives in sand
but foolish men think it's not planned

Where fierce and tender Orca steals
the infant pups of many Seals
where coral forests the oceans floor
the groves of Kelp hide many more

Odd companions the crab and shrimp
who share a hole like common tent
on flows the cisterns of the Deep
the lair where Leviathan do sleep

There flying fish cavort on wing
wild aquatic souls live and sing
here Dolphins cartwheel in escapade
in pods their dancing a parade 

Who understands the Songs of Whales
who carry calves and smack their tails
to starfish who cling the rock of Beaches
here low tides the mussels reaches 

These lives mankind has proved a danger
to poison Seas palace he is no stranger
Here predator man competes with Sharks
in every Sea his fatal marks

The Shark only does his hunt for meal
Mankind's a predator who kill and steal
Toxic pollution down rivers flow
the dead zones that kill the life below

Life perpetuates itself by designers plan
We question it's survival , it's death by Man
Those who love the earth these traits resist
There's too much beauty divinely kissed 

COPYRIGHT © 2014 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Form: Quatrain

Holiday Dilemma

With the fourth of July on a Wednesday,
Seems like everyone's slightly confused;
Though for children and fireworks makers,
They're sure to be extra-enthused.

For those on vacation, you've got a whole week
With the Fourth falling smack in the middle;
But if just a long weekend is all you can take,
Then your choice is as tough as a riddle.

Do you pack up and leave on the Friday before
And drive home as the fireworks burst?
Or do you start your weekend in holiday mode
As excitement gets slowly reversed?

This dilemma extends to each township as  well -
When to sponsor your bang-up display?
On the Fourth when some people will not be around
Or on pre or post-Fourth Saturday?

To the purist, the answer is clear as can be
For the Fourth of July is unique;
So let's celebrate Wednesday, although I am sure
We'll hear cherry bombs all through the week!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member My Italian Grandma

Nona is love with a spoon in her hand,
To stir the pot or smack your hand.

She's free with her hugs, her stories, her food,
But if your bad she comes unglued.

She hustles and bustles all over the place.
She fusses and worries and gets in your face.

If she can't solve your problems with food and a hug,
She'll call in a priest and get down on the rug,

To pray for your soul and your problems she'll share.
With the priest and The Lord she'll lay her heart bare.

If you don't have a boyfriend then she's sealed your fate.
She'll call up her nephew and get you a date.

Never tell her you're hungry 'less you want to be fed.
She'll feed you till your eyes bug out of your head;

And when she feeds you you'd best clean your plate.
If you don't eat it all then her food you must hate.

Then her feelings are hurt and you feel like a cad,
So eat till you're sick so she don't feel bad.

She's the queen of the guilt trips and the queen of hearts,
But she does give new meaning to the phrase,"Ow! that smarts."

Her eyes still twinkle though she's withered and old,
But when God made her, He broke the mold.
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Couplet

Hurricane Sally

HURRICANE SALLY, 9/16/20


With an unprecedented surge
She has taken my name
And is raging her way across the Gulf,
In all manner of alarming the population:
To stir, to retreat, to shelter,
To abandon the known
For all other available possibilities, to go on
Far from what we find ferocious,
Or never anticipated,
Or not in the forecast.
We mumble slight prayers against
Devastations.
In a rush we gather our families and photos,
Our pets and necessary papers; we grab
A change of clothing and medicines.  Who
Thought we could live with the least?
We think second prayers, hoping God will
Know the rest of our entreaties.
We take flight from home bases to higher ground.

The wind is heard coming.
Already weighty drops smack the ground.
Our children’s eyes are bulging out.
The ghastly, ghostly howls of the storming Sally
Have come, as she keeps overhead with
A continuous rumbling, rolling.  Kept rolling,
Barreling, haunting from above: these tones 
Of tempest as the water rises, and demons flank 
The roads and mark the bridges, “No entry!”

Peace resides still, perhaps in some elsewhere,
For now as we continue on to a higher ground
And the hurry has chased us into long hours.
We try to remember we still carry all stillness
Within us, with reaching somewhere deep.
The eyes with no mercy 
Will not rain even here today!

**********.         ************            ************
(C) sally young eslinger 9/1616/20
Sending blessings to storm-affected families!


Premium Member Falling Up the Stairs

On the bottom rung 
crawling up the stairs, 
My life has just started,
I’m free without a care, 
But something’s urging me
to keep pushing on
Struggling on the second step,
then it all goes wrong 
Tumbling back down,
landing on my head,
Next thing I remember, 
mother’s laying me to bed,
Some time after,
on the stairs yet again, 
About halfway up, 
looking good but then,
Go head over heels, 
rolling all the way back down, 
Ending up in a bundle, 
flat out on the ground, 
No pain this time, 
was actually kind of fun,
But dad heard me falling, 
got hard smack on the bum,
After dinner climbing resumed,
must reach the top, 
Didn’t make it that day, 
was never going to stop,
Finally some weeks later, 
I made it all the way, 
Never forget that feeling, 
perseverance paid, 
The reward jumping up and down, 
on my parents bed,
This was my life in general, 
when all this is said,
Nothing came easy,
a few highs and lows,
Done the best I could, 
took some nasty blows,
Now I’m old and frail, 
stairs are a mountain once more,
Every step I take, 
knees and hips are sore,
But my determinations strong, 
like that brazen child,
We’re still the same person, 
completely reconciled,
Still guess I’m lucky, 
to have made it round full circle,
Sheer grit forged me, 
But Its killing me to be careful. 

By
David Kavanagh
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Baseball Game

Swing of the bat, contests
Fielders’ gloves, ball in motion, 
Run, slide, throw - called safe!

Innings are by turns,
Dramatic or biding, boxscores
Revealing  who’s up.

Catching foul ball strays,
Or in bleachers just catch rays,
Fans cheer, hoot and wave!

Hear “Smack!” a hit!
Vendors warble, “Peanuts and beer!”
Star spangled banner.

If you come early,
Ask for heros’ autographs,
Snap players’ faces.

Distance ‘tween bases,
Had to be divinely ordained,
Perfecting the game!

Whether the home team ,
Overcomes temporary calamity,
Makes or breaks dreams!

© Chaim Wilson
Form: Haiku

Premium Member Bee-Have

BEE-HAVE

church was abuzz      with matrimonial mass

and we were mesmerized       by the goofy voice

of the master        of ceremonial priest             don’t laugh

my husband’s pinching his skin    so thin

i dare not look at him        at the same time, a few rows

back     my cousin has his own         planned attack

leans up near my sister-in-law             and finds need

to mention             her hand in my brother’s pants   pocket

oh how he jests         “how unsuitable for church”

now she’s           ahem           just staying warm       so i’m

trying to keep it all together            you know

church face and all       but now there’s a           bee buzzing

smack        against      my brother’s face              perhaps it also

disapproved of the      inappropriateness     the        indiscretion

aggressive move of his wife          (tears rolling, ready to burst

like an ice cold pipe in deep winter)           i smooth down

my dress              pinch my husband’s skin (okay mine)

and try            to keep my eyes front-facing             ...but for that voice

our side of the family might even have           tried           to be

….civilized ;)

10/23/2017
Light Poetry

My Confession

It is hard to really tell you
The beauty of this man
For many simply find it
Too hard to understand
They laugh, they smile, and tease
As I describe his every being
They just can’t fully see
The splendor that I’m seeing
Though he is just a character
I really can care less
He is real in this crazy heart of mine 
So give your teasing a rest!

His hair is black as ebony
His voice as smooth as milk
It reminds me of dark chocolate sliding across oiled silk
His face is pale and serious
With black eyes that pierce your own
His grimness makes me envious
In this world he is alone
His nose is hooked—but not too much!
And his rare smiles are divine
His black robes add a vicarious touch
I wish he could be mine!

As far as personality goes,
I say, he’s quite the charmer!
Dexterously shielded by a past of foes
Beneath his shame of honor
Sometimes he’s angry, but mostly glum
Rarely is he content
He lost his love, cold and lonesome
Sarcasm is his lament!
Alone he lingers in the dark
Torn and set apart
No one knows he has left a mark
Right smack-dab on my heart!
I stared intently at book and screen
When they first came on
Every word he utters is like a dream
And then again—he’s gone!

Nevertheless he leaves me
With a feeling so grand
At loss of words from the awe he gives me
A joy that no one understands

Can I help but swoon and gape,
At the great professor Severus Snape?

*Note: Although Alan Rickman is a contributing factor to my obsession,
I’m seriously just in love with the character…and that is my confession!
Form: Ode

Premium Member Terrorism Uses Violence

Terrorism Uses Violence
By Franklin Price
9/21/2016

Terrorism, uses violence to politically achieve a goal
The terrorist does the dirty work, as required, it's his role.
A bomb, a gun, a knife or two, a commercial high-jacked plane
Anything to scare the public, causing death and hurt and pain

The acts that we have witnessed, for fifteen years and more,
I don't believe are terrorism; let's examine what they're for.
Perpetrators have no politics; at least none I can see.
Some say, it is religion; doesn't much sense to me 

It's about the haves and have nots. The haves, have riches to entice
The have nots, who have no future, into terror that's not nice.
If the enticed had any politics, would they take a one-way ride?
Terrorism, as it's known today, mostly ends in suicide

The poor and the impressionable, are the ones who join the cause
To disrupt those who have a future; they do not stop or pause..
Strike fear into the lives of those who have a stable life.
Cause them to wonder, if they're next; replace stability with strife

Can't see how that's political; except make civil go away,
May inject their chaos anywhere; to hold the world at bay.
Looks like they're succeeding. They're disrupting every day
Can't let their acts continue; can't let them have their evil way

If violence is all they know; the only thing they use
Here's what I say that we should do; a plan they can't refuse
Don't make excuses for them. Don't give them any slack.
Make all efforts, now, to stop them. Don't talk useless, idle smack.

Send the special forces, the snipers and the drones
Kill those who plan to harm us until there's nothing left but bones
What does not exist, can't hurt us, can't recruit misguided men,
Can't kill others indiscriminately, can't be terrorists (?) again.
Form: Couplet

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