Long Splatters Poems

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


Drip, Drop, Drip

Drip, drop, drip.
Some blood and some tears
As I look down the wasted years.
Gone, ever lost, and outside my grasp
I wake to my nightmare with a gasp.
Drip, drop, drip.

Drip, drop, drip.
Sweat splatters as I run
Constant to keep my mind numb.
Toiling always, back to the sun,
That to my depression I won’t succumb.
Drip, drop, drip.

Pitter, patter, pit.
As my emotions run deep.
My heart into my thoughts finally did seep.
I cannot shake the presence of regret
As I see down the road the family I will never have met.
Pitter, patter, pit.

Drop, drip, drop.
Take the time, a bit, and mourn.
Let your heart and countenance be forlorn.
Rush not, but rest and heal.
Then perhaps you may be the gent ideal.
Drop, drip, drop.

Drop, drip, drop.
Awaken upon a new day.
Open your eyes, and see the world as it lay.
A playground, indeed, and overflowing with life.
Chances for joy truly are rife.
Drop, drip, drop.
Form: Rhyme


Water :The Divine Marvel

The little divine droplets of water bedeck
 The shoots and leaves, all around spread
 Over the tract and the rough rocky bed , 
 As the soft seemly drizzles at the day-break
 Infuse an enlivening pleasure into the air ; 
The shiny pearls and the lustre- pendent , 
Though for a short spell and moment , 
Enchant the vision beyond all fancy flair ;
 Some hours past, the reviving cool breeze 
Brings forth the tidings of fresh ,new life 
 To all the spread over fauna- flora rife ; 
 And booming twitters hail from the abiding trees.


                                                                                 

  Bhagirath stood for years many ,and long
 In ascetic penance, for the sacred flow , 
 That he might redeem for ever, his kin-row : 
Souls, aged, from the infinitely cursed wrong ,
 And regain the ethical poise on the whole ;
 To salvage and deliver She did descend ;
 With ablutions, absolve them and mend : 
Purge, save , recharge and liberate the soul ; 
Oh! the holy spell of the sacred waters 
 Which aye, generate , protect and restore , 
And beyond the infinite ages carry, far more , 
The spirit and essence of throb in splatters . 
Sprinkles and droplets dripped ,bring back



 Even the morbid ones from the mortal way ,
 That the vain soul might, if not longer stay, 
And seek the path of solace from the rack ; 
Wrathful pours and the scaring thunder
 Are but the varied pitched dissent punitive; 
 No trial ordeal of the primeval and primitive 
Or of erudition of wonder ; just tear asunder !
 The dancing cascades , springs or the deluge 
Voicing and enacting the vivacious glamour , 
Depict the be -all and end- all of all clamour ,
 Of odd disasters that ensue misuse of refuge !


                               *****
 

"She " refers to the River Ganga and Bhagirath of ikshwaku lineage says the lengend brought the river down to the earth to save the souls of his forefathers from condemnation.
Form: Lyric

Steady the float

Here rest my oars.
A killick thrown to the school of fishes,
To still my boat from the peering waves.
Fishy-wishy scatter as water splatters,
Like wood chips flying when the pickaxe strikes.
A ship draws near, but my killick blocks its kiss—
Its stale mouth might stagger my rest,
And send my gathered fish fleeing the net.

Much of the mud my killick swallows,
So the wave won’t tug the boat an inch.
More students from the school must reach my net.
A long wait beneath the twilight-dimming sky.
Yet the fish market waits for a refill.
The cool breeze begs my eyes to close,
But hunger bites hard with its mocking teeth—
My killick just has to steady the float.

Premium Member No more dirty bombs

Several threats poured in my 
mind was dizzy I knew killers 
were trying to end my life
since the failed attempts 
several shootings car bombing 
my mind focused on my 
wearing wires pregnant buying 
weapons and drugs from junk 
sick cops for the fbi now the 
corrupt officers niece was 
impersonating me catrina bell 
donaladson mckissick car 
bomber violent offender 
known for sending dirty bombs 
and explosives including Sar
a serial una bomber dirty bomber 
of sorts I worked with the fbi 
searching for m.o.m.m.y dirty 
bomber Mr Melvin MAYES El rulkin
from Chicago trading weapons 
dirty bombs with LIBYA to blow 
up chicago trains transit system 
and government building Trina bell 
bombing it this personal bomber 
placing devices in foreign cars 
or packages mailed to her targets 
her favorite tampering with medication 
quietly killing the target altering 
passports assisting drug smugglers 
leaving the country after killing 
sprees sending strange packages 
to explode several decoys are 
usually sent wrapped in tape 
with several envelopes attached
these are used threaten blackmail 
targets as the entire community is
baffled when the mix up occurs and 
boom powder covers the face hands 
fingers lost limbs flesh splatters 
while the bombers watch from a 
distance usually parked sometimes 
just sitting in a Cafe detonator released 
cries from a distant targets are 
sometimes randomly or targets are 
in hiding domestic violence victims fbi 
informants in witness protection selected 
by  yellow pages or library cards 
prescriptions at CVS Walgreens 
seniors by aarp or consumer cellular 
these junk mails are randomly sent 
out confusing postal workers who 
just put junk mail magazines in anybody 
box identity fraud you have a community 
in an uproar with lost missing 
prescriptions in the wrong hands
or thrown out in the trash with the 
junk pile while bombs ignite beware
of bombs powdered covered packages 
indeed Sars more chemicals delivered 
for making more and more dirty bombs
Form: Naat

Premium Member Drip-Dry

feeling exposed as mud splatters,
the cotton clinging and drenched
chattering teeth, seething relief
as the sun warms the rancid smile
of bulbous peaches pressing,
depressing and like an eclipse,
a disturbing shadow of unwomanliness.
all at once passionate, lusting, learned,
yes educated by tongue-filled eyes
and lies of squeezing love. tears drip-dry
for the milkmaid and the sodden sisterhood.
the fun begins, a roundup, but who wins...

i stand at a safe distance, heart on full alert,
stirring cheers and deathly gaps of shadowplay,
snipped cutouts of the soul hung on hangman lines.
a story waiting to be told on bar stools. another man
leans in looking at her wretched chest rise and fall,
fully ready to expose the secrets, pinning them
to the ground. and the sun goes up and down.

9/19/2018
First Place Premiere Winner
Mid-September 2018 Contest (Brian Strand)


Another Mothers Son

Glistening tears roll down pale cheeks
Not wanting to look but scared not to peek
Another coffin, another life gone
Another funeral, but not the last one.

Eyes looking down, holding each others hands
Swaying together, shoulder to shoulder we stand
A waste of young life what’s it all for
Another one afraid to answer the door.

Life is so precious, so short, yet so good
The ground hits the oak it splatters with mud
Another friend gone, more hearts are broke
We swallow it back, on misery we choke.

Blank faces and eyes covered with a mask
A pat on the back an arduous task
To say goodbye to another loved one
So precious to all, another mothers son.

© ~GG~ 23/12/2012
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Chicken Splash



The charcoal clouds melt in the scorched sky,
serenading summer drizzle descends  
with the fascinating flotilla in the arid air.

The spectrum of the setting scarlet sun
sparkles in the slant spray of the raindrops,
soaking the singed malachite meadow,
as pristine petrichor exudes in amber ambiance. 

The raindrops cascade in soft musical torrent
in the misty puddle, spreading in my pasture.
I feel the nostalgic delight of my youth return. 

The little pool morphs into glistening ballroom floor
for the aquatic ballet of the rolling rills.
I hear the silent symphony of the melodic past 
in the rhythm of the raindrop dance.

From the barnyard comes a hopping fawn bird,
with spread-out wings flapping in the drizzle
the chicken squawks the tune of waltz for me.

So, I join her doing the feathered twirl,
spinning around together with slippery slide.
I tap my toes as she splatters the muddy water,
bringing back my younger days of joyful chicken splash.

Premium Member Writing An Acrostic--

Writing An Acrostic 

Warm Warm spell imply spells  written represent secrets on paper, tablet, and or stone.


Royal Royal favours recommend favours lead beacons wavered under cover.


International International interests institutions increase institutions indite ledgers’ cloned.


Traditional Traditions of scripts ignore scripts gazette top-secret matters splatters ink slops unrecognizable.


Identical Identical wordings follow word formulate DNA transcripts yet still top-secret.


National International institutions write institutions write encoded notes scramble up.


Greatest favours facilitate greatest flavors encourage transgress thoughts.


Writings on the wall or not?
...
.







08/19/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Form: Acrostic

Premium Member Love Is Rainbow Obsidian

Love is rainbow obsidian,
dark and light in every color;
Simply glowing from the inside 
splatters of hues vast and endless;

Dark and light in every color, 
a rock for you when you need it;
Splatters of hues vast and endless,
facets of personality;

A rock for you when you need it,
held together warm and grounded;
Facets of personality,
they revel in their uniqueness;

Held together warm and grounded,
once in a lifetime find so rare;
They revel in their uniqueness,
splendor of calm understanding;

Once in a lifetime find so rare
simply glowing from the inside;
Splendor of calm understanding,
love is rainbow obsidian.
Form: Pantoum

Baz Bull

Rad mad hatter batter approach

Kiwi coach who Key did poach

It seems he is beyond reproach


When it really matters in tatters

Castle clatters Ashes hope shatters

Our guys bowling pies on platters

Memes scatter legacies splatters

Egos not heroes BazBull flatters


The urn won’t return with the Mac

Yearn but burn totally out off whack

Concern can’t learn not got the knack


Brendon a torn forlorn tendon on the rack

But will still earn a packet deserves a smack

Bitten not smitten his racket of cricket crack

Wouldn't change tack and deserves the sack


The hack pack giving him a stack of flak

Finally a step back from just all out attack

Too little too late the recurring soundtrack

Whittled & skittled fate well we were cack


Drunk monkeys just sunk spunky flunkies

Lack guts gumption gusto were so slack

The lies spool pulls over our eyes the wool

Must backtrack no crackerjack comeback


Debunk the funk & gist of narcissist gunk junkies

Cool over old school fool rule of Baz (load of ) Bull
 
Time these harlots & charlatans brought Test best back
Form: Rhyme

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace