Long Tamp Poems
Long Tamp Poems. Below are the most popular long Tamp by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tamp poems by poem length and keyword.
Chateau Charlene pulled out all the pins today
Trying to watch Cheeky Wall fall.
Cheeky Wall has had too much experience
Showing the world her sassy, funny, hilarious side
Keeping our true feelings inside
As deep down as possible
Emotions are seething from Cheeky Wall
Into the grounds of Chateau Charlene right now
Like snakes, they slither toward her foundation,
Trying to crack it, reveal her secrets.
These two are in a magnificent love-hate relationship.
Each trying to sabotage
And take down the other
When the kingdom falls
Will the truth be revealed?
Person alert.
Smile on face?
Pretend light in eyes?
Happiness showing?
Depression and despair in the dungeon gurgles up
In a bowl of black snakes and dead pussy willow leaves.
I tamp them down
So no one knows
“Hi!” we say.
A bit too brightly.
Luckily no one
cares or even
notices.
The normal joy of Christmas is dead in my house.
No enthusiasm or anticipation of laughter
It will be another day without family or friends
I may have a twinge or two of loneliness
But I will quickly tamp them down,
crocheting them into quilts of frolic and madness
The frolicking and madness of one.
One who can entertain herself easily
cartooning, painting, writing poetry,
and pretending it is not Christmas today.
If someone Zooms me, I probably won’t answer.
I will be too busy, playing.
Unless the loneliness creeps up.
Then I will Facetime someone.
Technology has become my new Santa Claus.
In the green Adirondack foothills lies
the haven of our old summer camp,
once a place of adventure and outdoor joy,
and the loud cries of precocious scamps,
their energy you never could tamp,
scurrying ’round on small, rapid feet,
leaping into the pond without a beat.
I remember coming here myself,
gazing up at the grand totem pole,
the mess hall with fieldstone fireplace,
where countless tall-tales were told,
and lordy, was the pond bitter cold!
There was a trading post for candy, snacks,
and toilets which all amenities lacked…
To scampering kids it felt like we were
far off in a rugged wilderness,
that tall white pines just rolled on
in a vast and uncharted forest,
and we were just the ones to explore it!
The only sign of steel on our trails
was a pair of rusted, forgotten trial rails.
Then I came back here as an adult
and found the revelry was long passed,
the town had bought up all the old camp,
no kids raced swiftly ’cross the grass,
it had been too good of a place to last,
folks blamed it on poor demographics,
cell phones, and parents afraid of risk.
I suppose I should be thanking the town,
because the made the space into a park,
at the very least it will be preserved,
even though it’s missing that old spark,
and youngsters sprinting ’round on a lark,
they’re even cleared out some new ground…
by tearing half the rustic buildings down.
The trading post, now a picnic pavilion,
the staff cabins now an empty field,
the docks pulled up and carted away,
the pond belongs now to minnows and eels,
not entirely sure how I feel,
out there we swam and swamped canoes,
now it’s blocked off from public use.
The mess hall, at least, is still standing,
they say it’s becoming a historic sight,
but to see it still present, all alone,
somehow just doesn’t feel all that right,
with its clap-board fading in bright sunlight,
at least the boat-house still rises near,
though it’s probably collapse within the year.
I turned away in a very glum mood,
made my way to my car rather slow,
thinking of all I had done here
that my children are never going to know,
there are few places like this left to go.
it brings a well-known though to my mind:
Damn you, damn you, damn you time!
Ah, to reminisce,
to peer through rose colored glasses
smooth the edges of
pointed encounters
tamp down the burning
embers of memory
smoldering in silent seclusion.
To change the tone
texture and import
of echoed retorts
polish the participation trophy
sitting alone on the shelf
knowing that time
does not heal
nor dreams dissipate
those moments
and yet….yes yet…
I question the roots
of such reminiscences
anecdotal recollections
based on the youthful folly
of ineptitudes inexperience.
For the older I get
the better I was.
John G. Lawless
3/18/2021
My identical twin sister came to school with me once
Many moons ago.
We wore the same clothes, and the same socks and the same shoes.
Only our underwear was different.
I had her walk through the cafeteria, then I joined her.
This made quite a stir.
One hundred and eighty-four wound up screaming children.
Almost as loud as the school secretary when she met my sister
Not knowing I had an IDENTICAL twin.
One of my favorite children jumped out of his seat, an absolute no-no at lunch
And ran right to us. The principal who had come out to try and tamp them down glared a bit,
It stopped him not a whit.
“Two Mrs. Krutsingers!” he yelled, clapping his hands.
I laughed.
My sister did not.
Uh-oh. A clue.
“Which one is which?” I asked him.
“Easy,” he replied, pointing to me. “You are the REAL Mrs. Krutsinger.”
This pleased me greatly.
Was it my shining personality? My terrific rapport? My exuding kindnesses?
“How do you know?” I asked him.
“Caps on your teeth,” he said smugly.
And he was right.
I smiled too.
Never underestimate a second grader’s ability to
Truth you to reality.
Taking Today's Tumblerful Tea Time
This teetotaler turns to tea
torquing temptation
towards tippling
thankfully, though
that tremendous tugging
teasing tendency thirst trumped,
thru teaching this totally tubular
toothless titular Texan thuggish tyrant
(titled Tsar Terry Troutman)
transcendental theology
tenets taught transferring
torpedoing, taming threatening
titanic tsunami tempest
tastefully tickling temperance
testing trying taut tenacity
together teaming (troika)
triumvirate torchbearers
transsexual therapist
(Tony the tiger)
tough trailblazer theoretician
toady treacly Tory
(Tommy Two Tone),
thence thirdly Theodore
"Tornado" Tornetta)
themselves trained to tamp
twerking tremens triggers,
their tripartite treatment told
tattooing thorny transforming
took this then truant teenage turtle
through time traveling
to those truant tumultuous tragic,
toxic, tipsy twitchy, touchy, tetchy
typhoon terrible two times two
times two times two tantrum
throwing, thieving, threatening
taxing textured teen tinder times -
tossing, tilting, taking tankful tolled
throaty, thoroughly,
thickly telltale temblor
toured terrible tournament
testing taupe tumbling termagant (Thaddeus)
tangling (Tangoing) tiny Timothy,
the treacherous tarantula
tying tussling travail – tata!
You bring the tan and the gray to tamp my oranges and hot pinks.
My sun smiles at your dark moon, glad he is ancient and kind.
The kitchen cupboards laugh as you reach for your cup.
Knowing I am using it, to tease you, so you will love me more.
You have the smile that starts my engine and makes me purr.
I try to ignore it, but of course it is always there underneath my scowl.
As I pretend I no longer want you to chase me around the chairs.
Landing on the couch like giant puppies, silly for our age? No way!
You bring the rain and with it the couch cuddles and the coffee.
I run through the living room streaking paints in fluorescent hues.
Trying to see if you will notice the absence of clothes.
Of course you always do!
Quotes from the 1960 movie, Pollyanna:
Pollyanna: Why don't you come out of the front door like normal people?
Jimmy: They won't let us. I can come out anytime I want with my tree.
Pollyanna: You could also fall and hurt yourself badly. You shouldn't play in trees.
Jimmy: That's stupid. Don't you believe in God?
Pollyanna
Impregnated with positivity…relishes wide toothed smile.
Lips, cherubic-pink…so courteous…chin tilted godward.
O this angelic pekingese courts the sinner for their own good.
“Impertinent child,” man, woman, and gut, clench in good grief.
The sun rises on her, never sets — vainglorious retch.
Still…crystal illumination twinkles rainbows and puppy dogs.
In the big house, rent free, Pollyanna roams the rooftop.
What - sneaking out! Can’t be. Jimmy coaxes her down the tree.
Her aunt’s an awful louse, forcing her down. Breakneck landing!
Daddy, the preacher died, leaving her legacy, unkind.
Black and white, no insight, everything will be alright - but it’s not.
A forest vigil of candlelight - flames reach to the highest height.
She does her best to tamp the flames - aims to feel sorry for herself.
Hurts worse than she can imagine…her doubts, her pride…she hides.
Yup…she has the whole town spinning…their sinning ways, trimming.
Impregnated with a gulp, this blue-eyed, bow-tied, Pollyanna.
They shut her up but good. Her goodness flew. Hit them in the pie hole.
With wicked widespread grins, they cheer the impertinent snipe.
9/24/2021
Sijo
Tympani, beat tremendous!
Like thunder roll above!
Dark matter a-tenebrous;
Knowest thou of love?
Ah, young master. In good time!
Riddles, rivers, rhyme!
Griddle, fiddle, sugar, slime.
Covert cold cut chime.
All right, sir, but in earnest;
Full, brass bull, trull, wool?
Summertime, hot clime, addressed!
Roundabout red rule!
Well, it's you two! Black and Blue!
So, what else is new?
Eggs a-light, serpents a-few?
Kittens blind that mew?
Knights of the nebula pond!
Elders strong and wise...
Mighty warlocks, wave thy wand!
Prize? Between the eyes.
Adepts of tomorrow!
Always? Skies and greys.
Surcease, students, all sorrow.
Living for todays!
Miles are marked for travelers?
Yes, and reason thus:
Reality whirs, then blurs.
Black and Blunderbuss.
Rain, pour poems on prophets.
Nerves heal as they warp.
O floodwaters, try Tophet's.
Sailors, tamp the tarp...
Cup of love
I create you
And consume you
Every day
Froth you
Grind you
Tamp you down
Extract all there is
From your little bean
Then I
Pour it into your frothy foam
And that first sip of heavenly you
Makes me love life
Yesterday I noticed
Your heart rose to the surface
After my first morning kiss
And I took a picture to show the world
Someone loves me
But as I was cropping and zooming
I noticed what I thought was a black hair
Running over your rim
Gross
Not mine
(like the ones left
on my pillow).
On further inspection
I realized it wasn't a remnant
Of... bittersweet
But you were cracked
From top to bottom
Broken
Broken thing
Can only broken things
Love me?
No, they can
Ans they do
To hold a butterfly and
Not hurt its wings
So delicate
I can't hold you closely
Even when you're so
Feathery soft
You tickle my heart
Fly--fly away--love
Before I break you
Or waste your magic dust
On anything that could drag you down
Like this cup that loves me
That I'm sure I broke in some
Clumsy manner
And never knew
Until it fell apart in my hands
Fly-fly away-love