Long Sopping Poems
Long Sopping Poems. Below are the most popular long Sopping by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sopping poems by poem length and keyword.
The dank petrichor of grainy night,
meters stand like gravestones,
the obsidian avenue slick as a sapphire,
windowed granite rising in sharp cut shadows,
wind gusting, tumbleweed clouds somersaulting
in a moonless ghost town.
I jingle keys with atonal sky
and listen to my footsteps on concrete
ticking like a clock.
There are places to be.
I hasten my step as rain drops resume,
one by one mounting into a riotous crowd.
Umbrella-less, I am soon sopping,
hair a wet carpet, suit a gray saturated tarp,
the briefcase and tote onyx boulders.
My car is still a block away,
but eventually I reach it
like a leaf washing down stream.
The tote slips off my shoulder
as I stoop to retrieve fallen keys
lying in a shallow puddle like a shattered talisman.
Suddenly I begin laughing,
dropping everything in the street,
my face skyward, arms splayed like a crucifix.
Now there is no tomorrow,
only the farce of my predicament,
standing like a drowned coyote howling
at the moon as though it would be there forever.
women that tip weigh ling needle to spin vicious circle
akin to puppy chasing her/his tail
or require digital scale,
at the extreme alt right registering heavy loads
whether young or old ought to appreciated
as waifer thin self starved as a rail,
instead they suffer unfair injustice
like a trapped quivering quail
thus this fatalistic, generic,
and holistic landlubber
wanted to point head lee
hammer home one secure
heterosexual bondage stronger than
omnipotent Marcy's Playground
weather beaten pail
Trent Reznor's sixty 9 inch rust free steel nail
into the coffin of bias
against bevy of beautiful babes
within the mind of this male,
who inherited genetic predisposition
for being average, hearty and hale
yet feel compassion for those engaged
in an ongoing with battle of the bulge,
hmm... perhaps hiding ample bosom
akin to milky sopping wet grail
or accepted unequivocally themselves
without envy of lithesome women,
who seem to possess flair with nary a flail
yet possess much love to avail,
and tis wise to love oneself unconditionally
despite premium aesthetics considered svelte
which mass media accentuates de facto spelt
definition of femininity aka runway models
donned in faux animal pelt
whose deliberate self exhibition
prompts madding crowd of man
to waggle tongue with slack jaws
as if ready to melt
or at instantaneous signal telepathically felt
drop drawers upon removing blackbelt.
Mind has gone with the flying withered leaves
Spring moon has dived into the summer pond
Hot ray with golden sight dancing with breath
May lips clutching the hands of rain with fond
June soil seeking the wet cord of showers
Moment of the roaming birds keep no bond
Hearts routing in the fragrance of flowers
Yellow pumpkin smiling with buzzing bees
Ripened fruits craving smell making loser
Sopping little sense is wounded with peace
Orchard of the autumn frost dreaming life
No farewell, let's enjoy the nature pitch
Happy path of the earth life ending no
After sorrow, joyfulness comes, it's true
24.06.2020 Chattogram
Back I go retracing steps.
Against the tide I must tread,
Following the arrows down in reverse.
Each arrow head points back to moments gone,
To a time before the dawn of days past.
The footprints I must retread
Lead backwards on the path trod.
Heel to toe carefully placed in reverse,
To echo the way I felt at each step.
To unravel the memories woven.
Rewinding your life's design,
Sopping up past tears you shed,
Muting the cries with rags and sound proofing,
Pulling back from embraces hugs and kisses.
Is the toughest part of these retraces.
With each step, a tale unfurls,
Of joys and sorrows retold,
Where songs I knew, old and new are unsung.
I walk through gardens which were once in bloom,
Where flowers long since withered, met their doom,
This journey back to the past,
Rejigs it, to could have been!
Steal away the pain
I’m wrecked-up…my blood drips like rain
I want to let you know that I miss you…
Lift me high off the ground and wipe away the blue
Steal away the pain
I’m screwed-up…my hair is sopping wet…I’m waiting for it to drain
I want to let you know that I love you…
Lift me higher than the roof above our heads – don’t you get the clue?
Feel your way out of the maze
I want you to steal away the pain
Feel your way out of the maze
And don’t look back…there’s plenty of hope to gain
Steal away the pain…wipe away the blue
I have barely anymore strength to carry you…
I want to let you know that I don’t hate you…
I’ll lift you higher than heaven’s height
And erase the rue
One misty morning Grace came to my little house,
The drizzling clouds had soaked her purple blouse
And her rounded eyes sparkled with rain and lust;
I kissed her dewy lips as any savvy gentleman must.
“Life is dreary without your warmth”, she said
As she threw her handbag on the rumpled bed;
I removed her shoes and her sopping attire
And at her behest quenched her restless fire.
“Let’s go see my parents “, she begged with care,
“Promise you’ll marry me”, she stroked my hair,
I squinted into her eyes and with the last kiss
Accepted her requests in the scintillating bliss.
We trekked till our feet were sore
From ten in the morning to nearly four,
But when we reached their estate
She went in fast and locked the gate.
Alone I considered my fate in the lonely dark,
The dogs punctuated my thoughts with a kindly bark,
The sporadic owl hooted to signal the inevitable menace
And the few stars overhead smiled to lighten my face.
What was my mistake, Grace?
I have been asking myself all the days
The wrong I did you on that drizzly day
That love with hate you chose to pay.
There is no cruel intention in these veins of mine
No self-perturbing traces of malice or hatred
Yet I rot in all that I am
Sopping sorrows
Bacterial bondage
Lost in this reverse universe
Turning back the time
I am still a child
I am fine
I am fine
Never would I mean to hurt you
In my silence it seems that I have
In my state, my stagnant state,
I awaken your resentful waves
I am buried in your unawareness
Unraveling in writhing verse
I have no reason to despise myself
I have no reason to hide
A cold wind of a departure
I dare to turn and look
To watch you leave through the door
Suddenly I am rotting all over again
I am walled into endless festering
Do not tell me to live in the moment
Until you have felt what I have felt
Do not tell me to forget who I am
With what you think I was
I am fine
I am fine
The danger has no weight on me now
I am walking past you now
June 1, 2017
High…way up high in the aqua blue sky,
I see a black and white checkered kite…
floating higher and higher than I, myself…
But, I was shoved
Into another shelf…
High…way up high in the aqua blue sky,
2 birds were flying together in harmony… it made me smile
If only…I could fly another mile…
If only…I could higher my smile…
If only…I could fly higher
If only…I could taste ecstasy…
people would accuse me as a liar
If I experienced the best day of my life…
But, I don’t wanna live with undying strife…
I want peace…
Hand it over, please…
Hand me the keys
So I could experience perpetual peace
I took flight like those bird couples…
But, I was on an airplane…
High…way up high in the aqua blue sky,
I wouldn’t be greedy for gain…
I’m trying to act sane…
But, I’m actually insane
In many ways…I love my uniqueness…
And my stubbornness… and my gladness…
And my madness… my imagination goes wild
But, I need to put it on a leash…so I could remain mild
High…way up high in the aqua blue sky,
I’d feel the rain
Trickle down my hands…my wet, wrinkly hands
High…way up high in the aqua blue sky,
No one would understand
How awesome and wonderful I’ve felt that day…
Up there…
up there…I felt like a king…
But, now I lost that memory…I lost my ring
To success…but I’m willing to pick up my progress…
My pace…is slow like a snail’s pace
Do you see me crying? Just look at my face…
High…way up high in the aqua blue sky,
I’m the clouds absorbing tears
High…way up high in the aqua blue sky,
I’d be willing to release them…
but they’ve been stored up forever it seems
And…hell – I have been
Shaking with fear…
Breaking by the seams
High…way up high in the aqua blue sky,
I was……..
Daydreaming again…
My mind was stuck on cloud 7…
Thank heavens
That I’m still alive – staring into space
Just look at my sopping face…
I see no grace…I see only a pathetic face
In the mirror…….
This little dream of mine
Was rather sublime
I was a sweet boy,
but now I’m sour like lime
If I were a bird,
I'd fly away from my problems...
I'll flutter away
Without a care in the world...
I want to be happy-go-lucky...
But, I'm bound to submit to my
Misery.............................
An invite came from Buckingham Palace to sup with the queen!
What a rarefied event that will be, dining on royal cuisine!
I try to recall the many social graces taught by my Mom,
So as to breeze thro' the affair with a modicum of aplomb!
'Tis prudent to forget table manners learned in the navy,
Like using salty language and sopping my bread in the gravy!
Or tossing my tie over my shoulder or slurping the soup.
'Twould ensure icy glares and horrified gasps from that august group!
Seated, I take inventory of the tools - these do confuse,
Reckoning which of the myriad of forks and spoons I should use!
Do I begin from the inside out or from the outside in?
(I'll just wait and surreptitiously watch until the others begin!)
Is using my fingers to eat pickles, caviar and artichokes,
Acceptable even when dining with these imperial blokes?
If the duchess on my right asks for salt do I also pass pepper?
Such lapses in social amenities make me feel like a leper!
I must not use my napkin as if I'm vigorously washing my face;
That would heap upon my head the pinnacle of disgrace!
Ere I spill wine on the duke to my left, 'twas just as well,
That I awoke from my short-lived blue-blooded spell!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Alas, I did not receive an invite from the Queen - just dreaming!!!!!
~ for Aokigahara - souls wandering ~
jade canopy
waving while it whispers
the lush secret, compelled
delicious word of myriad words
casting shadowed merriment at a
woven briar carpet …
( colored strings, winding ... waiting )
tangled labyrinth,
so deep and dark that dew still
clings at mid-day
leafy tresses tickling azure
sopping sun like thirst -
bright and warm above
straight trunks like
steady soldiers …
fingery tendrils
burrow deep to find purchase
ruddy earth, cool as rime
rich with rooty rot -
nature's marrow
to breathe the branches
( Fuji's frilly garden skirt )
listen, tender ...
soft now, the hush of mys'tries
this forest bides all, yet
stars still glisten its black heart
desire, a mossy coat ...
dour ... waiting
hear the voice, low,
the breath of breaths, murmuring -
it begs, come ...
in a thousand gentle lullabies
with the language of the
ages and the ends …
( voice sweet as death )
it calls to
the misty meandering
one dire dalliance
grandest adventure of all -
the dazzling dream that never …
wakes.