Long Splat Poems
Long Splat Poems. Below are the most popular long Splat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Splat poems by poem length and keyword.
Flimsy bubbles, of instant delight,
tickling senses in fanciful flight.
Sunlit shells encapsulate the air
into crystal balls beyond compare.
Glassy orbs that make children giggle;
as they wiggle, wobble, and jiggle.
Transparent globules, airy and bright;
reflect the sheen of sparkling sunlight.
Lightly popping with a ticklish splat,
they spray a mist, as if sunlight spat.
A flotilla of transparent spheres;
that playfully summon laughs and cheers.
Jewels in the world of make-believe,
that are impossible to retrieve.
For they float free, on the slightest breeze,
rising high above the tallest trees.
Dear little fly,
You didn't have to die,
But you've made a crucial mistake.
You said that you'll come over.
Then you flew over my sofa
And landed next to my chocolate cake.
Your two small wings
In the air it sings,
Though it's annoying in my ear.
And to no one's surprise,
Your untimely demise
Will become your very worst fear.
When I finally saw you,
I only yelled, "SHOO!"
You thought you had more lives than a cat.
But you landed on the wall
And had a great fall;
For my Giant Fly Swatter went SPLAT!
You just sealed your doom.
And now, with my broom,
You were swept up and laid to rest.
In the garbage you go,
Because you're too slow:
Good-bye, you miserable pest!
Cameras snap the last actions as tourists flash
Bullets fly by at respective velocities in streets
As dark humor goes out the window in Bruges
Some one falls from the high church tower
Assisted by gravity, a force of nature works well
A push from a stranger works even better
To bring him to his senses, obsequious to that end
A splat, a stain on the pavement below, where else
On the square, over a glass, a sampling of fresh brew
A hit man, this time, does not miss his mark
The story, like the beer, is delicious this time of year
Authors Note: The film named “In Bruges” (Who would do such a thing?) is a gem of a movie.
Colin Farrell, (eye brows and all), stars with Brendan Gleeson and Ralph Fiennes. A must see.
cigarette falling, snow-
ing in-
side the bronco,
buck-
ing ash two-digit scissors
reach-
ing like tongs
passenger’s eyes pop
driver
retrieves, revels, masters
the smoke; a joke
to the occupant
occupational hazard:
timing of
timber
window ajar; a trail
of chimney smoke
a cautionary tale:
don’t make my insides jiggle
jingle bells are merrily ringing
can’t help myself
previously, at the airport
man flies
off his luggage seat
goes splat in the turkey line
his phone’s fly-
ing
and i wonder why
i’m the only one
giggling
i leave the state in newfallen snow,
splash-
down on the tarmac
in Georgia
Nov 2022
Middle of the road,
or somewhere in between,
Over and beyond,
is where I should’ve been,
Living in the undergrowth
Staying more or less unseen
Now a piece of roadkill,
belly up hasbeen.
As you drive on by,
Spare a thought for me.
Stuck to the highway,
baking in the sun,
Flies all around me,
least they’re having fun,
Getting flatter by the minute,
almost dried out,
A splat of bloodied hair,
unrecognizable beyond doubt,
As you cycle past,
spare a thought for me.
Saw an open space,
with some shiny lights,
Looked quite innocuous,
in dark of the night,
Could hear friendly calls,
from the other side,
Off I went a trotting,
for the last time of my life,
As you see me disintegrate,
Spare a thought for me.
A blinding beam of light,
heading straight my way,
To late I can’t go forward,
or scurry back into the hay,
Absolutely no idea what hit,
Just burst like a bubble,
Ants are everywhere now,
Rejoice! the man with a shovel.
As you see me scraped up,
Spare a thought for me,
By
David Kavanagh
Long years ago, you heard I fell,
just tumbled from a wall and—SPLAT!
I’d not be whole again, all said.
I’m here to follow up on that.
The King’s men scraped my pieces up.
It seemed they’d better things to do
than put me back together right.
I think they used Gorilla Glue.*
Now here I am, a messed-up sight,
a monster much like Frankenstein.
My body parts are all askew.
Not even my eyeballs align.
I'm feared, avoided, ridiculed.
I've no place in society.
Made a pariah by my looks,
though not in prison, I'm not free.
I hoped corrective surgeries
would fix me; so I filed a claim.
It was denied. It seems that for
my brokenness, I was to blame.
Here's what the agent said. I quote:
"Foolhardy eggs that perch on walls
should know that someday they'll get hurt.
They've asked for whatever befalls."
*popular product advertised as “the
toughest adhesive on the planet”
Autumn came in darkness like thieves at night
Recalculated angle of fireball
Flung out a master canvas so, so bright
Readjusted the thermostat to cool fall
Touched the pumpkins just for Halloween fright
He blew deadly frost upon the cool pears
Left them chilled ready to noisily splat
As they land on rain drenched earth whose affairs
Weight it down like many bureaucrats
Dancing through long hushed nights putting on airs
Remembering last year as I re-read
Life much the same as last year except___well
COVID visited from hell, planted seed
It skirted round and entered where I dwell
Fall you breath of fresh air, heal us I plead
Autumn with cooler, drier air bring us joy
Sling out rust, red and yellow; our days fill
We now fully understand COVID's ploy
Let's overcome this heinous disease spill
Immerse us all this fall~ color enjoy
Date: 09-23-2021
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Contest: Quintain(Sicilian)
The first two stanzas are somewhat rewritten from last year and then two added stanzas from today.
Autumn came in darkness like thieves at night 10
5Recalculated angle of fireball 11
6Flung out a master canvas so, so bright 10
7Readjusted the thermostat to cool fall 10
8Touched the pumpkins just for Halloween fright 10
9
10He blew deadly frost upon the gold pears 10
11Left them chilled ready to noisily splat 10
12As they land on rain drenched earth whose affairs 10
13Weight it down like so many bureaucrats 10
14Dancing through long hushed nights putting on airs 10
15
16Remembering last year as I re-read 10
17Life much the same as last year except___well 10
18COVID visited from hell, planted seed 10
19It skirted round and entered where I dwell 10
20Fall you breath of fresh air, heal us I plead 10
21
22Autumn with cooler, drier air bring us joy 10
23Sling out rust, red and yellow; our days fill 10
24We now fully understand COVID's ploy 10
25Let's overcome this heinous disease spill 10
26Immerse us all this fall~ color enjoy 10
27
28
.
not to worry
...their locked in ourn engramz
with no brass
Confronted with
Pen and slip
drip
drip
drip
slip
splat
for all to wander
to wonder
Tap
Tap
Tap
we beg
we give
we cry
we sing
in our bedroom
we thank
Yahweh
in
Yeshua's
Name
for
His Gift
Uv write
January has pocketed frosted dreams
Firmly tucked away, hidden under her black ice
Her treacherous blizzards torment the foolhardy
Many driving too fast on her hills should know better
In a heavily prayer-scented car
A risk-taking older cigar-smoking woman twirls around on the ice
Finally landing with a splat, slamming into a steel embankment
Her days on earth over now
bitterer than any rejected suiter, the incredible storm picks up
The woman's Ford is covered in mounds of wet heavy snow
This is a desolate road, people do not see the wreck for hours
Nine One One is called, but it is too late.
This smoke has words that escape me actually
The EMT says, as he reaches the scene
I see no smoke, his unaware partner replies
Not seeing the haze that is taking the lady’s soul to heaven
Stars,
what can you say about them
- not a lot.
The slightest bit of cloud cover
and they’re gone.
Butterflies…
folks got a lot of things to say
about butterflies
- not me though
(bug splat on a rainbow),
the whole darn world is fluttering-by,
and butter has yet learned to fly.
Romance and moonshine
are like the stars,
they’re not reliable in daylight,
unless we are discussing
high octane spirit in a jar
or our deep and abiding
love for classic cars.
If you tie
stars,
romance,
moonshine
and butterflies all together
into a fairytale posy
apparently,
you are what some may refer to as a ‘poet’,
and what can you say about that?
Nothing.