Long Soak up Poems
Long Soak up Poems. Below are the most popular long Soak up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Soak up poems by poem length and keyword.
The Straw Man stopped by today
Listen to what he had to say
before blowing away
after this exposé
Aliens don’t do crop circles
or carve out landing strips
Only non-scarecrows have such ability
Ground crews do the Trojan work,
using string, planks of wood,
and sketchy blueprints
Heavy-duty equipment
is often required for the latter,
but not spaceships
As usual Ufologists and cults
are only too happy to jump on board
using the crappiest video recordings
as grainy evidence,
all enhanced by voiceovers
from know-all scarecrows that orbit the edges
of human gullibility and vulnerability —
ripe to be swayed either way
As for the heavens,
they never designed clarity on earth,
though they may provide
soul-searching clouds
that slowly unravel across the sky,
diluting everything
— even the water —
with bubbles of hope,
only to burst on the tines of pitchforks
misused by twisted hands
Such monsters
skulk in bedrooms and haylofts
after families in denial bail them out
They rarely take rain checks
unless kept in check
Though with hindsight,
it’s very poor foresight
to tempt them back downstairs
with a weapon as a birthday present
Many poets too lose rhyme and reason,
expressing reality as an
amputated tuning fork
whose stumps prevent them
ever facing the music
Others sense the blunt frequency
of straw beneath their feet
that will never soak up all the blood
And after spilling his guts,
the Straw Man added:
There’s still enough of me left
to return and break the back
of any new AI mirages.
By David Kavanagh
Your phone will inform you
Of possible rain
But armed with this knowledge,
How much will you gain?
To tote an umbrella
Or not, you must ask
And if you are wrong
You'll be taken to task.
We traveled today
To a charming Swiss town
Expecting that raindrops
Would come pelting down.
The sky, though, was sunny
To soak up the views
Of both mountains and lake;
We did not have to choose.
And Lugano, though Swiss,
Is Italian as well
So I found lots of shops
With gelato to sell.
A hazelnut cone
With some chocolate dripped on
Was my choice for today;
It was too quickly gone.
Oh, and back on the bus
It soon started to pour
For a very brief time -
Guess the phone knew the score!
They say it gets harder
The older you get
The loneliness creeps in and often good memories you simply forget
It's those yearly reminders of things you once had
Memories once made
On days you hated in a moment on a day from your past
Oh, how I wish I could rewind time
Replace a frown with a smile
Soak up every single second
With gratitude for all those things I forgot to remember I had, until now
When they are gone
We feel this guilt, it’s this uneasy, unsettling regret that we wasted so many moments being irritable and upset
wishing it would fly by to any moment, just the next
To escape the memories I now wish I made myself sit through to get
So I am now trying to enjoy and create because I understand the importance of every second, for every day.
Today, I make memories for future me to have
Like little treasure boxes, I keep unopened
Until
The day I dig them up
For a memory to recap
I can’t say I am perfect and present every second
But I am constantly aware of my mental exit and my presence
Being conscious of decisions I make
When my brain forces thoughts of loneliness and shame
I am content with who I am when it’s just my shadow and no friends
I am just human, and this comes with imperfections
Feeling loneliness on certain days of particular times of year is a human condition as we are merely just understanding the impact of our conscious presence for our future years. It’s going to be a forever feeling, but knowing it’s just that means you are actually healing.
The journey feels lonely in the beginning when you’re starting reprogramming old ways and ill thinking
Once you are aware of true self
Lonely just means more time you get to work on yourself. No longer should that word make you feel less than anyone else.
Keep that in mind when the seasons roll through and you start to become a shell of yourself. It’s not bad to be content by yourself it means you did the work, and now you actually love the company of self.
You are able to be present, gather new treasures to pack away for a later day when old age claims mobility, and new memories for you to claim. It's like a memory layaway with an extended lay. I may sometimes feel lonely, but that’s just more time for me.
It's a PICKLE PARTY and you're being invited!
Return your RSVP saying you'll be delighted
to attend. Don't forget to bring your sunscreen
so, you can keep your lovely shade of green.
The pool will be open, so you can swim and dive
and a band will be playing soulful blues and jive.
I hope I haven't added too much salt to the brine,
but if it's not to your liking, have a glass of wine.
Some gherkins will be here that you don't know,
and there's Phil the dill, flying in from Kokomo,
and the green-eyed prissy one, Miss Polly Pickle.
Don't get attached to her, for she's quite fickle!
I've invited a few kosher friends from New York City.
Their garlicky aroma is a bit strong, but they're witty.
You can mingle or just hang with the other slices
who've been soaking in the spa with pickling spices.
Beware the boring Trish, who likes to embellish
the tale of how her parents became sweet relish.
Oh dear, I must sound like a fussy old schmooze.
It's not a BYOB party because I'm serving booze.
The Cornichons from France said they will attend,
but if you don't speak any French, you can pretend.
Whatever it is they're saying, they'll think you agree.
Just smile, nod your head and keep saying, "Oui, Oui."
If you tend to be a little shy, stay close to your jar,
but you might find it interesting sitting at the bar.
I thought of inviting pickled onions, eggs and beets,
but they might outnumber us and eat all the treats.
I hope you can make it to my first annual Pickle Party.
It's the anniversary of my marriage to Big Cuke, Marty.
He's such a hunk, and sometimes I can't resist a nibble.
But I'll never share him; a fact I will never quibble.
Please say you will come and join us in the party fun
and when you get ready to soak up the heat of the sun,
step out on the party deck to take part in the dancing.
If the right pickle tickles you, maybe some romancing?
August 16th, 2022
It's a Pickle Party Contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
A zone of twilight..
Fascination of stars..
Billions upon billions
Of stars..
A shining star..
A shooting star..
Gleaming and glistening
So divine..
Beautiful and ever so brilliant..
Designed and alligned perfectly
By the loving hands of Mother Nature..
Universe..
Along with..
Many different universes in existence..
Galaxys followed by other galaxys
The fullness of it all
Vast it is..
Never ending it is..
I gaze upon the night sky..
On a clearest night..
I gaze in astonishment..
Massiveness is an understatement..
No limitations apply..
In the twilight zone..
A twinkling twilight zone..
I gaze upon the day sky..
I soak up the sun rays..
I feel the warmth of the sun..
Almost blinded by the sunlight..
An intense fireball it is..
The sun..
Which is a magnificent star..
Magnificent star in dawns early light..
Life is a tree
People are her leaves
They bud forth in the Spring
Beautiful, young and green
But some fall victims to worms
And insects which devour them
Some get pooped on by birds
Others survive thick and thin
Storms, hail and all of nature's elements
They survive them
And grow full and green
They live to soak up Summer's Sun
Lovely to the eye to behold
But than comes Autumn
They shine how they shine
Of brilliant colors they display
Red, Gold, Orange do they shine
To only turn brown and fall from the Tree
Or by strong wind or gentle breeze
They are blown away
To rot back into the soil
To feed the tree
So that after Winter's rest
New leaves may bud forth
On her Arms of Life
if i could
if i were brave
i’d leave my job
i’d be an artist
adventurous and audacious
i’d be extravagant
and listen to opera
as loud as loud can be
fearlessly I’d dabble
on the edges of insanity
i’d paint murals
with the boldest colors
bringing joy to
every passerby
i’d put an end
to injustice
to poverty
as well as sadness
i’d get on a plane
and fly around the world
i’d climb the Everest
to Katmandu
i’d run to meet
the dalai lama
sit by his feet
and somehow
through osmosis
soak up his peace
and crystal wisdom
i’d fly east in sync
with every sunrise
then turn around go west
to capture every sunset
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
At the end of a fjord
The fjord was long and dark
on both sides, hard granite could not soak up the sun
it was like descending into hell.
But the fjord arm opened and at the bottom
could be seen a small village with red-painted houses,
the people here at been isolated from outside influence
for many years and everyone looked the same,
alas, some were giggling idiots.
I big piece of rock fell off the dark mountainside caused
a tsunami that washed the village away and there
were no survivors, except one who didn`t have the brain
to tell what befell, at the time of the accident he
had been high up in the valley to get the cows home.
The village was moved higher up, and new people moved in,
today it has an airport and has joined modern life
Oh, carry me down to our beloved riverside.
Let's lay on the sweet grass and just abide.
To soak up the sun, through our tender young skin.
And think of the phenomenal world we live in.
~Yet, aging stalks in silence and will take our youth away.~
Let's dream of our lightness of being in this now.
Dream about out our future family and home, anyhow.
In a city, small, with winding-treed streets.
And the cherished patter of little feet!
~Yet, aging stalks in silence and will take our youth away.~
In this glorious moment exists silken happiness and bliss.
You know, my deepest love, the joy you bring with a fervent kiss.
The monarch butterflies flap their wings in such joy.
Seeing the great happiness of a girl and her boy.
~Yet aging stalks in silence and will take our youth away.
I love this engagement ring, see its colors dance in the sun.
Our life together will be lovely, I already see it done.
Children we will have, how about four?
Oh, you're so silly, you want more?
~Yet~aging stalks in silence and takes our youth away!~
10/8/2020
7pm PST
Sometimes my thoughts wander when I'm sitting still
or a vague notion crosses my mind, giving me a chill
I soak up weird ideas like a sprout absorbs April rain
I'm not averse to anything filtering through my brain
Quite often I ponder the reason for many things on Earth
the moon's control of ebb and flow over tides in a firth
Why some critters are hatched; some given a live birth
and why some folks are so obsessed with a man's worth
When writing a poem, there are times I just cannot think
Til a phrase comes from the blue when I stand at the sink
I let the dishes soak and faster than my eyes can blink
I am writing a sonnet of verses that poetically interlink
I've moments when I'm oblivious to almost everything
The whispering wind; a song a finch has chosen to sing
Lost in thoughts of my own while on the porch I swing
being grateful for all I have. My life is such a wellspring
The other day, I was walkin' and just started thinkin'
how sad so many lives were lost. Tears had me blinkin'
I know it's reality, but so surreal that it doesn't sink in
that a germ is causing havoc. Sometimes life is stinkin'
Right now I'm contemplating what I take for granted
I know sometimes my views can be biased and slanted
but I cannot allow myself to become so disenchanted
that positive views with negative ones become supplanted
December 31, 2020
Just Thinkin' Contest
Sponsor ~ John Lawless