Long Swats Poems
Long Swats Poems. Below are the most popular long Swats by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Swats poems by poem length and keyword.
aft’ the storm’s the cure
the salt licks his face
though trenches’s formed
as foam settles down
will his Tessie rest
in his windward eyes
will she lay on his treasure chest
hearing the ebb and flow
as his vocal cords desist
from commanding mates
to feel the siren’s call,
to salve the absinthium,
absolve him with ecstasy
will she be there at all
or has the sail been torn
by the storm that rages within
will the Captain choose
to down the bitter sea water
drown in his rusty pipes
as Betsy sits on his shoulder
his eye rolled down the plank
he patched up the hole
Tessie’s tears are the seas
the salt assaults her
the Captain once hit Tessie
with a bottle…the ship
he’d never hurt the girl
who always waits on the shore
wait! wait!
he does come
he finds she’s a wild one
able to handle sea monsters
Tessie’s hand swats Betsy away
puts her in a cage
traps the man of her dreams
they both dream the same dream
It's the look of anticipation in a preschoolers eyes
as he holds your hand near the playground gazing in skies.
It's the prolonged kiss when the preacher says to the couple side by side
“I pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride.”
It's the gaze of a kitten as she swats at the laser light
as she hopes for a game that is fun and bright.
It's the yard in the morning after a night of cold snow
when the sun is just high enough and the wind has stopped its blow.
But love from the Creator God is by far the most of all
the most perfect source of unassailable purity without any downfall.
I brush for fifteen minutes my kitty,
as she growls, wiggles and struggles and swats;
all I want to do is make her pretty,
I just need to get rid of a few knots.
Oh, all that shedding, moulting and hairballs,
she is very angry with me for hours;
I kiss her but no way- away she crawls,
I give her treats so she will not be sour.
But in time she forgives and she forgets,
we snuggle on the sofa together;
sweet joy, I got a knot out- no regrets,
except she bit me hard, oh whatever.
Kitty is silky and soft - an angel,
I love her although it can be painful.
_____________________________
August 27, 2016 (edit)
Poetry/Sonnet/Silky Kitty
Copyright Protected, ID 16- 1084-4010-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
. Cheese Cringe
Joins the dots Scrubs the slate
Invites the platter Lays smorgasbord
Trusts the echoes Swats at the flies
Knows it's cheese Presents as caviar
Laughs with itself Groans at moans
Means every word Tries having it on
Softens into silence Hums through hush
Trusts the audience Counts on the nods
Carries an umbrella Blames rain clouds
Loves Swiss cheese Prefers old Jarlsberg
Arrives a little early Makes bold entrance
Knows when to stop Can’t ever give it up
Risks some affection Insures for rejection
Content with a smile Wants standing ovation
Gaps between words Babbles endlessly on
Delights in the simple Over does it to death
Smiles before you do Waits for permission
Lets the jokes have air Explains the punchline
Speaks to the moment Speaks over the crowd
Welcomes an audience Counts the applause
Knows when it's smiling Says kimchi for a smile
Wears heart on its sleeve Sobs in its own elbows
Doesn't fear the eye-roll Watches raised eyebrows
Leaves gaps for wonder Fills cracks with certainty
Doesn't mind being uncool Shivers on cold shoulders
Lets the conversation finish Finishes all your sentences
Laughs well before it matters Waits until laugh-light is on
Knows the holes make cheese Plugs every hole with a mirror
Leaves before applause finishes Waits for one more curtain call
Leaf sprouts Leaf drops
Believes Deceives
Flowers Weeds
Cheese Cringe
If I were a fly on the wall at a DNA office,
I’d see one mama budgeting child support for two maybes,
hoping the high-earner wins the paternity sweepstakes.
A grown man doing a victory dance he practiced in the car,
while another looks stunned like the swab repossessed his last hope.
A grandma wiping tears of joy because her real grandbaby finally found her.
A whole couple discovering they’re cousins and breaking up mid-hug.
Three siblings realizing the middle one belongs to nobody in the room.
Just a fly dodging swats while families get swabbed,
watching bloodlines flip faster than reality TV plot twists.
I brush my cat for five minutes daily,
But she just wiggles and struggles and swats;
All I want is to enhance her beauty,
All I need is to get rid of those knots.
Oh darn the shedding, mating and hairballs,
She is very angry with me for hours;
I try to hold her but away she crawls,
I tempt her with treats but she looks so sour.
So I decided to give her a short cut,
Oh so baleful and upset and angry;
Now she is a lion on my blanket,
She sure looked mad as a hornet to me.
Staring with those eyes saying I bite,
Oh poor kitty you do look quite a sight!
__________________
October 24, 2015
Poetry/English Sonnet/"The Cat Is Mad" as a Hornet
Copyright Protected, ID 15- 720-797-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Asylum
Buzzzzzz!!! Buzzzzzzzz!!! Where is that sneaky stinger?
(as he swats away at his imaginary insect)
I know it's here somewhere I can hear him buzzing around
Buzzzzzz!!! Buzzzzzzzz!! See there it is again!
This damn Bee is gonna make me crazy!
(no pun intended)
And where's my lunch? It's egg salad day!
(it's only 6 am and it is tuna day)
I'm tired of the games from these helpers!
Ethel!! We need to fire these bastards now!
Where is my damn lunch?
(Ethel has been dead for 3 years)
Buzzzzz!!! Buzzzzzzz!!! Ohhh well I'll get you Bee!
Ouch! Hey I need some attention here I've just been stung!
I'm allergic to that bee & the stinger was at least 6 inches long!
Help!!! Help!!! Help!!!
(but no help will come)
Damn you miserable bastards! Damn you all!
Where is Ethel she'll take care of this sting...she'll...
(he falls to his knees and begins to weep uncontrollably)
Buzzzz!!! Buzzzzzz!!! Buzzzzzzzz!!! Buzzzzzzzzzzz!!!
(there are no bee's in this padded room only madness)
revised@05/06/17
The customs men shake their heads
and watch the women enter Mexico.
Three with skirts, white socks,
one with jeans
and proper blouse.
Seventeen, eighteen
just out of Concord Academy
in a black Packard Super Clipper,
not quite as big as a hearse.
They buy silver jewelry from the women
and beers and tamales from a man.
Night comes,
they watch the moon large
over the Pacific.
They lay under the Packard on blankets,
staring at it
while a whitehaired man swats away
with a broom handle
two stumbling young men
who get too close to them.
What happened, Mom?
We asked her about then-
The summer of 1949.
Did you meet a boy there?
No, nothing happened,
she said.
Nothing happened.
We went there
and came back.
It was the lull in between,
everything happening.
And then-
Everything happening.
I see it now,
my mother,
the girls,
the moon reflected in their eyes,
the smooth Pacific,
a guitar, a song in the air.
Their moments run through me,
each one,
as though
I had never been born.
I brush for fifteen minutes my kitty,
as she growls, wiggles and struggles and swats;
all I want to do is make her pretty,
I just need to get rid of a few knots.
Oh, all that shedding, moulting and hairballs,
she is very angry with me for hours;
I kiss her but no way- away she crawls,
I give her treats so she will not be sour.
But in time she forgives and she forgets,
we snuggle on the sofa together;
sweet joy, I got a knot out- no regrets,
except she bit me hard, oh whatever.
Kitty is silky and soft - an angel,
I love her although it can be painful.
_____________________________
August 27, 2016
Poetry/Sonnet/"Soft and Silky"
Copyright Protected, ID 16-823-550-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, English Sonnet
First Place
No Flies on Me
What is it that makes these creatures so hated
With an image in life that’s always berated
Could it be their allure to the dung and decay
Where their babies are born, what more can one say
And after to settle on sugar and butter
Then vomit and liquefy food for their supper
Their ability to taste is inbuilt in their feet
They can walk upside down as well as excrete
So mind your heads that’s a warning to you
You could find yourselves all covered in poo
With probing proboscis that persistently delves
Shows ample dare and considerable nerve
Their acute reactions and speedy avoidance
Cause so many, significant annoyance
With compound eyes they’re bound to win
Their battles with swats, firmly hands down
Without the fly we would lose such a lot
So many beauties with colors to spot
As pollinators they’re ace, akin to the bee
They’re food for the frog and the spider you see
The gardeners love them for aphids they eat
This indulgence in pests is real tough to beat
But sadly the diptera steadily decline
Their extinction would mean the end of the line
There’s no flies on me and I hope that I’m wrong
And we would no more sing life’s glorious song