Long Swished Poems
Long Swished Poems. Below are the most popular long Swished by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Swished poems by poem length and keyword.
Smug Cat was excited to be alone in her hot human's house.
She could hear whatever she needed to hear, including a mouse.
There was a gentle rain outside, which made her happier yet.
She was the luckiest non-human today the most joyful pet!
She commandeered the house, it was hers to do as she wished.
Heard some wipers outside, they made melodies as they swished.
Her eyes began to close, and she relaxed onto her queenly bed.
She had not had this kind of relaxation since the announcement was read.
It is a boy! Hooray! Hooray! A baby boy born today!
She did not like this new kid, he always got in her way.
He got served first, and his milk looked better.
He was always snuggling into mommy’s sweater.
A car door slammed. They were back!
She was now again on the “look at this cute baby” track!
Driven by a growing angling fad
The jolly fisherman took a fishing rod
And walked onto the nearby stream
As the sun rose from the mountain seam
He had in mind the swimming Trout
With rising hope and speeding steps, he set out
Sat on a rock and swished the rod in the air
With the quickness of a practiced bowler
Looking at the line sinking low, waited quiet
Hoping to see the fish nibbling at the bait
Inhaling the fresh morning air, he sat
His head well protected with a frilled hat
As the hook line went taut in his grip
With rising hope, he pulled it up
But alas! With no booty to boast
And no fish at the hook to fry or roast
Uncomplaining, he sat like a statue on the rock
For hours, never allowing his heart to break
He waited all day till the sun went down
And at last with a smile, walked down to his town
_______________________________
August.19. 2022
A Jolly Fisherman Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Julia Ward
When the Universe created the Universe and allowed for challenge
It was quite open to change and the preponderance of ageing times
Youth is not a crime and the respect for seniority has to be earned
Oh my Lord let there be earth under heaven it might have intuited
A primordial bang and atoms swished as mute mutations ensued
It had not considered that people were to talk back or quite forward
Like moody teenagers or wayward sycophants refuting the Source
Seven days later the mess was complete and an apple indigested
Abel was disabled and begetting begot generations of philistines
Time is a stretchable concept but conception quick and unpredictable
Dinosaurs passed in the flash of a pang before stones turned to bronze
And into dogma of gold mined for the pockets of inequality and gluttony
Arcs for walking on water and one lousy fish for many wretched souls
A sole and meagre bouillabaisse yet diamond soles on feet in contempt
Dinosaurs came and went stones turned to bronze and with it tools
Of destruction where synthesis and harmony should have prevailed
But that was then and there and today is here and now and counting
We have lost the abacus in computerized algorithms and the plot in the
Process of post modernity and post selfies and trivia on glittering face book
Discarded essence and existential meaning on face value of tale telling times
An icon once had a different meaning as smiling faces are arrested in botox
But not all is lost when social media and mediums hex and bewitch the planet
Opium for the masses finds novel experiences addicted to shallow delight
Ten Year Challenge before and after a self-righteous pride in rigid acclaim
A decade is a miniscule timeline of Self that speck of dust in a galaxy
And thus I cherish my wrinkles the grey in my hair the scars and defeats
Have no need for glossing and photo shop and for the denial of passing
A crooked tooth here or there and a broken crown of vital humanity
And thus I will not diminish my hunger for living in the moment of truth
22nd January 2019
He ignored the warning signs and moved carefully forward and backward
In the rocking chair of swept memories and went for a wild white knuckle ride
Swayed but not faltering although he swung like a junky on amphetamine pills
Soaked in recollections gathered momentum and made dents in the floor boards
He pictured himself as a young man courting his sweetheart and kissed the bride
Life had dealt him difficult cards but he had upped his game in the view of defeat
Made allowances for bad hands and survived depression divorce and uncertainty
Valued his shortcomings and turned obstacles and flaws into forces of challenge
Photographs trinkets newspaper clippings and baby shoes swished past in a flash
A rollercoaster adventure of vertigo and nausea but also of thrilling escapes
Parachuting down abysses cliff diving and bungee jumps into a red-hot volcano
Confined to a nursing home he refused to accept the dumping ground it seemed
His conscience was clear but that signalled that truths were merely impermanent
And the subconscious tends to rest below an iceberg of prominent falsifications
Like laundering imperfection with fabric softener on kind collages and tapestry
Photo-shopping was before his time but he knew to cut and paste with his mind
Racing thoughts and blustering emotions collected on the windscreen of his soul
First pay packet for an old Enfield motorcycle then traded for an Austin Minor
Redundancy after the miner’s strike and still both his children made it to College
Some say it’s been a junk yard but he fathoms recycling for future generations
26th October 2019
Please don’t anybody asked me to decide anything. I don’t know
It had been one hell of a week.
The white snow doesn’t know if to fall; or the rain doesn’t know if it should pour
It takes sudden depression to make us see what life is
Life without a path is like flies on the cow ass,
As it uses its tail as a whip and swished the flies away
It a daily struggle but somehow we manage to move forward
It takes a man or woman who is down on they luck to wake up and face reality
A wise man will listen, hear, receive, and is always learning: because he uses every tactic
Known in the book
He laid back and makes the poor man do all the work
While he uses he brain and secures his profits…
Please don’t ask me to decide anything. I don’t know
Even a rat hate to be called by another name; for goodness sake
A rat is a rat. Why give it a different name.
The best of the best stool pigeon know how to keep its beak close
So please don’t asked me anything.. I don’t know
The air was pure and bright. A sea-salt tingle
hovered in an easygoing offshore breeze.
In mesmerising rhythm, wavelets sloshed
and swished along the timeworn jetty wall.
The bay was sparkling in the morning light
as early gannets hungrily patrolled
their crystal-clear domain.Slight movement now
within the overnighting boats, safe moored,
serenely sheltered at the break of day.
A swan flotilla, now near fully grown
and all in a row, in silence glided by,
exploring weed and tidal offerings
under a careful matriarchal eye.
The year was moving on, the midges gone,
and still the little ferry ploughed its course
across the bay, its passengers intent
on finding peace and personal content.
The cafe at the pier, with clinking cups,
was heralding the day, with early starters,
few in number now. The summer throng
dispersed and homeward bound, to feed
on memories. For some, like me,
a fitting epitaph might be
“He lived his life in thoughts of Arran “.
I was drifting off to dreamland, so my senses were deadened a bit
When a piper full of magic entered the forest for a tiny sit.
He took out a flute and began enticing flying things to come by.
Glistening, gleaming and sparkling, I opened my eyes with a sigh.
They were faeries, pixies, flying miniatures, sweet little creatures.
I noticed them vanish, disappear, dissolve, like Saturday movie features.
For they had seen me, when I had opened my eyes to see them.
A malevolent inky look came from the piper now; his eyes slim.
Lanky and lean, he looked at me as if I were corpulent and foul.
Taking a hint, I creeped off, because I am an empathetic gal.
I have no idea if the pixies and faeries came back to the piper.
But I felt like a bug swished off in a car’s window swiper.
Little words of value blown to smithereens
I am a smidge of worry with a touch of green
I spent the night picking out E's and O's
now my tummy is a gurgling with woes
From the belly, letters jumbled and crinkled
from my ear every word flowed and mingled
from the eyes the poem poured out in stance
as a front cover, back cover, spine cover, danced
I drank it all down with a large glass of water
swished it all up, then I thought I saw an otter
in my mind the word CREATE arrived in swing
so I decided to write this ditto and give it wing
I swallowed a dictionary full of words and phrases
I didn't do it for glory, nor did I do it for praise
Maybe I just wanted to feel whole again
that is why I used, my frivolous light pen
I swallowed the dictionary, now what ?
bY: mYSTIC rOSE
Jan 17, 2019
Rainbow Saturn had heard of the exodus and wanted to see
So she crept along the skyline, and took a peek, and yelled a whoopee whee!
There were cars and trucks a plenty, she told me in a voice not bitty.
She was delighted when she heard a child yell “look! How pretty!”
How do you know she meant you? I asked, but I know she probably did.
I am not sure, she admitted, but I know she saw me. After all, she’s a kid.
She probably meant you, I told her after watching the whole thing on video.
You were the most beautiful thing in the sky, so it must have been so!
Saturn swished a bit and sashayed her delight, that I recognized her beauty.
Of course I did, after all, is that not a good husband’s blessed duty?
You are the best, I told her. These kids were lucky to get a whiff of you.
For adults never see us planets, as their hearts are not as pure or true.
Saturn was throwing clothes onto the floor now, trying on flowers and dots.
I had so much fun peeking at them, she told me. And they have forget me knots.
I know I have a reputation for being fierce, but I gave her three candy bars.
If there is one thing you can say, I am a great husband, the planet Mars.
We had started preparing dinner,
but when I told her they were grazing out back,
she wanted to go see them for herself. I folded the dishtowel
and put dinner on hold.
I suggested we take scraps
Lettuce leaves, carrot tops, apple cores, …scraps from the counter
The three horses were clustered under the trees,
munching tall grass, not far from the house
Only barbwire, the swing set, and their indifference between us
We tossed pieces of lettuce over the fence, and called out their names
At first they pretended not to notice us,
but finally one pony swished his tail, and slowly, sidled closer
My grandchild held out the apple, with a hesitant hand
At first she was afraid, of losing a finger perhaps,
or her quivering thumb
But, I told her to flatten her palm, hold the apple like a gift
The pony devoured the apple, and continued to nuzzle her hand
Barbwire is no restraint…. And love has no constraints
Sometimes amounting to nothing more than
an open heart, and open hand and an apple core