Long Sneak Poems
Long Sneak Poems. Below are the most popular long Sneak by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sneak poems by poem length and keyword.
To challenge, to confront, to make a reader squirm
with annoyance, is part of what poetry is about.
Each reaction unpredictable rather than thrust upon.
The poet sows a seed, a catalyst, striking a match,
not to inflame and engulf, but merely to light
the kindling in the mind with jangles.
The poet is not to blame for reactions
built perhaps of a guilty conscience,
or a wounded mind on the rampage.
Sure, the poet often aims to confront,
to lay bare, to dare nakedness
worthy of exposure.
But the sower of seeds does not drag plants up
to germinate and grow, to prosper or flounder.
Nor does the sower know if bramble weed seeds
are mixed in with the plants he sows.
The sea of sensibilities is unfathomable.
The reaction spectrum is vast and indiscernible.
The chocolate tray has soft and hard center delights,
Sneak a squeeze if you like, or simply turn the page.
Egon Hedin the cook
When I joined the ship as a second cook I had trained as a baker, on a tank ship with forty crews, one, who could bake a passable loaf was needed
The cook’s name was Egon Hedin, he had an ascetic face with an aristocratic nose, one felt like bowing to his lord until you saw his arms they looked enormous which would in a boxer
the vessel left Antwerp for Russia the journey took us through the Mediterranean Sea and since the weather was fine the deckhands wore shorts that excited him greatly, he tried to sneak up to one of them to stroke the boy’s back, this caused friction the crew didn’t want a *****onboard, the captain came told a tale that the cook had lost his son he longed for
When we birthed in Russia in a town, I had forgotten the name of, the cook and I went ashore few seamen went ashore in Russia as it was seen as a boring place with few bars and no whores the town lacked a festive atmosphere
Walking down a beautiful avenue we heard music from an open window, the cook marched in it was a local party’s functionary's birthday they were all men in badly cut suits and glad to see us for some strange Russian reason
They gave the cook vodka and me beer since I was so young, Hedin was at his most dramatic he sang a Russian song about love for the land till everybody cried, later we were driven onboard in a big black car
The tankship headed for Iceland with the oil cargo, Raysahavik the spelling is wrong a boring place with watery beer
back in Antwerp, the cook paid off, seeing him
in his splendid suit, I knew he was an aristocrat
As long as we keep our eyes closed,
We can sneak through the crack
Of perpetual motion in space and time,
To find the unique crystal
Made of a trillion magnon quasiparticles,
Whose impossible existence
Makes us almost believe in miracles.
Trillion: a million million (1,000,000,000,000 or 1012)
Magnon: a movement of the electrons' spin structure in a magnetic material.
Quasiparticle: an object that is similar to a particle, but does not meet the full criteria of a particle (a particle is a piece of matter smaller than an atom such as an electron or a proton).
Inspired by "Two Time Crystals Have Been Successfully Linked Together For The First Time," MICHELLE STARR in Science Alert, 2 JUNE 2022
Image: Could quasiparticles called magnons unmask a lightweight dark matter particle? livescience.com
In school, I had to memorize
A Kilmer poem called “Trees.”
I wasn’t crazy ‘bout it, but
I did the deed with ease.
My 6th grade brain had lots of cells
Absorbing all the stuff
I entered as I learned things;
There was always room enough.
But as the years flew by, that brain
Was filling to the brim
And adding more, or trying to,
Took me out on a limb.
Abilities go AWOL, too,
And thus memorization
Appears at this time to have gone
On permanent vacation.
I have a speech to memorize –
Of course, it’s rhyming verse –
And I’m not sure if reading it
Or botching will be worse.
I’ll try it but will sneak a copy
Just in case I need it,
Though I’m expecting, honestly,
Most likely I will read it.
Once upon a time her cat dissolves in my arms
one night while she was at work
and once upon a time
because what i did that night
will never happen again
i promise, i promise
i broke into her house
that's right
that's right
i broke into her house
like a sneak in the night
that i am
oh don't mind me
she wouldn't care
it's only me
the one she hates to love
and loves to hate
the one that's rock bottom
and bottoms rock
see i'm not that bad
i tell jokes
and stir the straw
into her bottoms rock
on no he didn't say that again
he did, did he
and i met,
i did, did i
my acquaintance with her cat
Austin, Austin
right off the bat, you see
her cat was onto me
first as a sneak in the night
then she sniffed out the goodness
you see, you see
and warmed up to me
to me, to me
i could win anyone's heart,
you see, please do
including her lovely cat
but not her, and why
and why
Austin peeks her head
from the side of the couch
watching with those big blue eyes
so cute those eyes
so real, so real
i said Austin
come here, come here
kit-tie, kit-tie
she did, so cute
and why wouldn't she
her tail wagging
her rump high in the air
walking slowly at first
with elongated steps
cautious, cautious
staring into my bonding eyes
she likens to me
i gave her some bacon
her favorite new food
now she loves me
she nudges a friendly greet
she's pregnant with joy
and she brings a smile to my face
and i bring a smile to hers
you see, you see
the silhouette of the night
happy, happy
like there's a halo over her for the first time
her happiness emanating
very well, very well for the first time
she purrs, and lies on her back
trusting me, you see
i pet her on the chin
chinny, chinny, chin
she likes that
i give her kiss
she's beaming
the house is quiet
but pleasant
me and her cat
two in a mitten
a new friend in her catnap
me, you see
it was nice that first acquaintance
paw to paw, hand in hand, nudges to nudges
then, then, like all good things
must come to an end
the first day of light peeking
peeking in the morning light
i say austin, i say austin
connie pachecho
2/7/17
And once again, the sensor lamp casts a dim light.
Thru darkest dark outside, the motion turned it on,
as at the back room window, I stand weak with fright.
I wonder if the same weird image will be gone?
But there it is again, opaque in backyard's light.
Thru darkest dark outside, the motion turned it on.
It creeps and crouches low to sneak within my sight;
is dark and round and has two piercing eyes of gold.
But there it is again, opaque in backyard's light.
It stalks me at my window staring, mean and bold.
Looks up at me as long as I am standing there;
is dark and round and has two piercing eyes of gold.
And when I look away from its hypnotic stare,
I look again...its eyes seem more a gold-green glow.
Looks up at me as long as I am standing there.
It stalks me at my window, creeping low and slow,
and once again, the sensor lamp casts a dim light.
I look again...its eyes seem more a gold-green glow,
as at the back room window, I stand weak with fright.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Stalker
Sponsor: Silent One
Judged: 11/17/2017
Garth was a cat with an attitude, and he was grayscale true.
He had a pet mouse. I did not dare chase him. Did you?
Other cats had tried to entice Garth to loan out his mouse.
Notorious bankers went so far as to put a lien on his house.
Therapist Cat tried to psychoanalyze Garth, thinking him mad.
These interfering cats were truly mean, some rather bad.
Cat burglar Cat tried to sneak in and steal the mouse away.
He had bragged to many that he thought mice were tasty that day.
Garth outsmarted each cat that had a trick up his paw.
He had a pet crow with an extremely loud noisy caw.
The crow was promised jewelry of gold and silver too.
If he would wake up Garth when danger was due.
So, between Garth and the crow, the little mouse was safe.
He was a sweet little thing, he had a cute rather round face.
He was not grayscale but a happy pink color Garth craved.
They were a mighty twosome; and together the elements they braved.
Without teeth, he gums his peach pie
Savoring the deep satisfaction of the taste
Taste of yesterday, aroma of sweet boyhood youth
His crooked glasses still dignify his weather face
Not much to say when enjoying a slice of peach pie
Enjoy peach pie
He eats his secret treat I sneak to him
Not proper for his diet
He is eighty-three with Alzheimer
One slice of pie won't be the reason
For his demise
In the corner of this massive Veterans Home
He smiles as he swallows the last gulp of his sweet treat
As I gently wipe the mush from his face
I feel the presence of another hand over mine
In within a wink of an eye, I see the pale image
Of my deceased mother shimmering in the shadows
Of an otherwise empty wing chair
Smiling
(11/01/2007)
sleeping (( COLLABORATION * Don Johnson ))
by~ DON JOHNSON
The Nullabor it does abhor
the desert in it standing
The broken heart
he keeps apart
where Eagles are a landing
kangaroo is prolific cos good seasons bring in millions
they shoot them for the last hundred years,
Hoppy is still there in millions
Almost a plague after rain
The cure the joy the madness ploy, just catch a little Shiela
but broken hearts tend to self destroy
The one true love, to feel her
so searching for the lock of eyes upon the Nullabor
kangaroo does abound, dead straight the road for sure
Ironic tale sour grapes inhale,
He sleeps upon the plain
his swag is near the old Ute, and the dog is ever watchful
his protector is a beaut
~civilization calls~
he has to go back to the city streets
And searching ever searching for the eyes of lady sweet.
***by~ POET D:
Searching and searching till weak eyes fall asleep.
~civilization calls~
Calls the plague of raining streets!
The sleeping kangaroo took me into the abyss of sour grapes.
A wildlife with wildfire turned over by wildflowers.
Seascapes; full of sand that no one dared to understand!
Drowning underwater in a universe that had no expand.
Where the passer-by's felt the expression of sadness in his sleeping face.
All it took was experiencing the world with one lonely look.
A grain of salt, in the night sky!
Where clouds ‘walk-sneak and / clouds-cry like a whirlpool’,
Tears from a near by fountain deep in a valley.
Where we can sing for roo's sleeping heart.
Death in a wild flower mourning asleep on the hour.
Seeing’ is believing when Shiela appeared.
Drying tears with her sweet eyes over the desert lands.
A Collaboration with *DON JOHNSON
~MY COLLABORATION CONTEST~
Speechless clementine horizons infuse lilac hues,
tinting twilight's tepid breeze, reflecting sensually,
kissing tranquil waters, forming momentary ripples.
Chocolate cosmos awake greeted by fresh frangipani,
blending luscious flavours into an aromatic paradise.
Mockingbirds serenade sun into a silent slumber, its
fluorescent friend parades a galaxy of pellucid pearls.
Menagerie trails lead to zeniths where only eagles soar,
where vermilion dahlia sneak through mountainous smoke,
isolated by time - haunted by ghosts of ancestral Apache.
Silent One
6 January 2018
Example for 10 word and 10 lines challenge contest.
Ten words used:
Menagerie
Vermilion
Infuse
Mockingbirds
Twilight
Frangipani
Luscious
Pellucid
Ancestral
Ripples