Long Whooshes Poems
Long Whooshes Poems. Below are the most popular long Whooshes by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Whooshes poems by poem length and keyword.
Akin Twin Invisible Presence Coaxing...
Action across ouija board
fingers of left hand appear to move
planchette of their own accord...
inexplicably, silently, and verily
along a barely traceable minuscule chord
dance, with some spatial force
from outer limits,
perhaps a dimension unexplored
of twilight zone, (where spirit
of Rod Serling dwells)
horizontally, linearly, and peculiarly unmoored
hashtagging, kickstarting, and zigzagging
while just barely hoovering
with maybe a hair breath
of space to afford
between alien world and terrestrial
plain playing field, when oh my lord...
(this premature ejeculation
from an atheist sword
like cross my heart), thee paranormal
shenanigans witness movement toward,
and away from death still
participants mouths agape
with bated breath until last letter scored
which message... uh...ah...cannot be revealed
yeah...yeah...yeah...due to HIPAA laws...
...(Without explanation, there
gets heard a clangorous din
along with whooshes of ice cold air
brushing against my chin
analogous to some unseen
genie i.e. and/or jinn
freed from the lantern by Aladdin,
then,...how odd...a deathlike
stillness one could hear a pin
drop pervades so painfully quiet
as if...all sound got vacuumed in
to a void of parallel universe...
...Though I don't dabble in the black magic,
nor nothing linkedin with the occult,
yours truly titled his poem used to
"grab" attention fast as Usain Bolt,
he who dashes off runners block
as a blinding earth shattering jolt
faster than speeding bullet,
a praiseworthy athlete with no win tent to insult,
but merely chose his name out of thin air
(in accordance with abracadabra)
and flimsy rhyme that did result...
But..., aye...beg (bribe with
all the wealth of Midas)...please
believe me you, this rather cheese
zee poetic endeavor got
wrought with eyes wide shut
(for all intents and purposes eyes closed),
where gentle force did cease
phalanges asthma southern paw
of righteous honest to dog
gone guy with sixth cents sees
dead people as like miniature floaters
(in my eyes with ease)
poised and struck unbeknownst
computer laptop black keys!
It rains in ratio, through the black broken screen,
It rains a steady downpour,
And these infinite drops call me to them,
They draw me out the back door,
To whooshes of pink and whispering white,
From the oxford blue eyes of the sky,
Staring to me, and I, alone, staring to them,
Then I simply begin asking them: Why?
Why does the white moon hide in the black,
Behind the clouds in the night,
Why does the rain melt into my spark,
Why does the rain vanish from sight,
Becoming my spirit, the heart of my soul,
Becoming everything I’ve ever known,
Why do you shower your love as a rain,
Making all life on earth your home?
Xylometry zaffre zacaton swirl on hyaloid "penumbra phylum".
"Magniloquent melodic" apodictic vinculum survey.
"Wandering wispy whooshes" by wisps of weird warbles.
"An augur awash" in dew shrivels grapevine burst.
"Chapter claim crafted" up by chimera once called an alibi.
"Baud beat" of boxy beauty, barren trees with fuzzy bark acoustic.
"Unsustainable vastitude whips" to leave an open sky.
"Myrsine moon marble", magical gem idol aroma.
"Ritzy rag ravisher" mesh shining in a flame with an azure
saw.
"Sumptuous Sirius in somber" spell mixed glory to find my
pattern.
Written: September 14, 2022
Yore was bounty birth ''f inky ire;
moistened malady, dribbles dire.
''f callous cedars 'n' sane Sequoia;
one t' th' other blitzkrieg, bis loyal.
Torn tidings ñ wanky wind's wings rode;
porous passion 'n forgery's robe.
Ergo sought felon flame worn wind
'til a cloned cluster ''f flame was picked.
Anon t' sane sequoia 'n' cedar
rode hast'ly tidings - shrewd shudder.
Wanky whooshes paged nosy nymph
'n' birthed was nature's ire - soil's spree.
T' torn twain worn wind flames brought thither
but ere th' lighting came torn thunder.
'20:07:28:17:25
Note:
a) Of furious fire.
b) Written apace with Middle English lexis:
i) Yore - long ago
ii) ire - wrath
iii) bis - twice
iv) Ergo - then
v)Anon - immediately
vi) Paged - summoned
vii) Ere - before
c) The following are used with no syllabic consequences:
i) ''f - of
ii) 'n' - and
iii) ñ - on
iv) 'n - in
v) 'til - until
vi) t' - to
vii) th' - the
on hyaloid shade phylum
of zaffre azure
swish
soulful scrutinize
apodictic vinculum
magniloquent
wandering of wispy whooshes
wrapping wisps of weird warbles
shrivel olive trees
overflow no omen
drenched in sweat
summoned by chimera
once called passion
title assertion?
baud pace of rimless dreams
blurred bark
bare branches
fruitless leaves
unfetter'd
sky loose
mythic gem idol
purine as Myrsine
space rock fit
moon zappily
uncanny
azure drilled of ritzy rag doll
mesh shimmer blaze shackle
include
dare
desire
gaudy Sirius in darkened spell
mottled splendor
to cognize my path
as xanthic whispers
afresh
Written: August 06, 2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
The laundry on the line is dancing in time
to a wind whipped tune in early June
it tosses and turns, it whooshes and whirls
around and around in a yard before noon.
As clothes gayly flow, with pink socks in tow
the magic of the cool breeze surrounds
while bold colored shirts flirt with frilly skirts
the gossip from lace nighties abounds.
Sweet dresses sway and swiftly sashay
‘round blue jeans and tee shirts alike
they flip and they flap, they jitter and snap
as the wind crescendos and spikes.
Sheets fill up and fluff in billowing puffs
‘til the breeze takes a break and rests
“hands” then appear to put an end to the cheer
and the clothes slump and know they must rest.
In all of my days, of this simple display
I had never imagined or thought
that a view from afar, a clothes line in a yard
could bring pleasure that cannot be bought.
5/5/2022
The witches finger
When night time falls on Halloween if you`re near the woods don’t linger
For if you stand to long this night you`ll feel the Witches finger.
It`s long and crooked with a pointy nail its skin is rough and grey
It comes alive on Halloween night but dead and black by day.
She wakens up but once a year from her cold and icy tomb
Then she sharpens up her nails and sits upon her broom.
She screams a deathly cackle as she adorns her Witches hat
Then summons from the depths of hell her big black evil cat.
It stretches and it yawns with its mouth so big and fat
Then gobbles up the cobwebs and the spiders from her hat.
With jagged teeth and razor claws and a pair of fiery eyes
It sits upon the Witches knee as they take towards the skies.
The crypt doors they burst open as her finger points the way
She`s hunting for some victims before the break of day.
She`s flying through the night sky with evil in her eye
She’s hunting for lost children as she passes by.
She needs to be replenished with her heart as dark as coal
She’ll put her finger on your chest and steal your mortal soul.
So when you’re trick or treating in your Halloween disguise
Don’t wander in the shadows where the witchy has her eyes.
Don’t go down dark or unlit lanes where children should not be
Stay in the light stay with your friends where you can clearly see.
But when a shadow falls across the moon and you hear the witches scream
Your legs are frozen to the spot and you pray it’s just a dream.
Her dark cloak flutters in the wind her broomstick whooshes by
She has rotten teeth a crooked hat and she only has one eye.
So hold on tight and run for the light and do not be a hinder
Because if she catches up with you you`ll feel the witches finger.
THE END
Listen to the orchestral tune,
The sea sings its song as the ship moves along,
Serenading to the silvery moon.
The wind swishes and whooshes, humming its song,
As it wings on its winding way.
The strings of the stays strum along,
As the ship does its swing and a sway.
The wake bubbles aft,
The peak slams a beat like a retreat,
While the wake works up a cadence with the turn of the shaft.
The sea, a grand orchestra plays,
Its symphony so wild and free,
A melody of sights and sounds,
Nature's grand symphony.
Loose blocks beat a tattooed rhythm,
As the ship moves through the night,
The boats creaking at the davits,
Add to the sounds that ignite.
The thrum of the engines, constant and low,
Adds bass to the sea's melody,
While the pings of the sonar, high and fast,
Make the perfect harmony.
Tolling of the ship's bell, clear and strong,
Joining the choir with glee,
And the bellow of the foghorn loud and long,
A trumpet of the sea.
Flurry of seamen, busy and bright,
Adds to the orchestra's play,
As howling winds and banshee screams,
Compete with the symphony at bay.
Listen to the orchestral tune,
The sea sings its song as the ship moves along,
Serenading to the silvery moon,
The strings of the stays strum along.
As the orchestra plays, the ship moves on,
In a grand symphony of the sea,
Nature's beauty on full display,
A breathtaking sight to see.
~kcm
14 Apr 2023
Akin twin invisible presence coaxing...paranormal
Action across ouija board
herald Faustian bargain
as fingers of left hand appear to move
planchette of their own accord...
inexplicably, silently, and verily
along a barely traceable minuscule chord
dance, with some spatial force
from outer limits, perhaps dimension unexplored
twilight zone, (where spirit of Rod Serling dwells)
horizontally, linearly, and peculiarly unmoored
hashtagging, kickstarting, and zigzagging
while just barely hoovering
with maybe a hair breath of space to afford
between alien world and terrestrial
plain playing field, when oh my lord...
(this premature ejeculation from an atheist sword
like cross my heart and hope
to die a martyrs death), thee paranormal
shenanigans witness movement toward,
and away from death still participants mouths agape
with bated breath until last letter scored
which message... uh...ah...cannot be revealed
yeah...yeah...yeah...due to HIPAA laws...
...Without explanation,
there gets heard clangorous din
along with whooshes of ice cold air
brushing against my chin
analogous to some unseen
genie i.e. and/or jinn freed
from the lantern by Aladdin,
then,...how odd...
a deathlike stillness one could hear a pin
drop pervades painfully quiet
as if sound got vacuumed in
to a void of parallel universe...
...Though I don't dabble in black magic,
nor nothing linkedin with the occult,
yours truly titled poem
to "grab" attention fast as Usain Bolt,
he dashes off runners block
blinding earth shattering jolt
faster than speeding bullet,
a praiseworthy athlete
with no win tent to insult,
but merely chose his name out of thin air
(in accordance with abracadabra)
and flimsy rhyme that did result...
But, aye beg (bribe
with wealth of Midas)...please
believe me you, this rather cheese
zee poetic endeavor got
wrought eyes wide shut
(for all intents and purposes eyes closed),
where gentle force did cease
phalanges asthma southern paw
of righteous honest to dog
gone guy with pennywise
and pound foolish sixth cents sees
dead people as like miniature floaters
(in my eyes with ease)
poised and struck unbeknownst to me
computer laptop black keys!
You know when you are being watched
That tingle in your skin
You might be looking out
But you know something’s looking in.
That weird feeling, I was eating my toast
I feel vulnerable, that’s something I don’t boast.
Looking around, I see nothing
But that feeling is still there
Then it hits me with a whoosh
Before I can get out from my chair.
The screech then as it whooshes past
My skin jumps from my bones
As the great Seagull rushes fast
Its skills all finely honed
My toast it spears and flies on out
My breath is gone I cannot shout
I knew something was watching me.
When the tingles started tingling me.
© 20/07/2012~GG~