Long Wipe off Poems
Long Wipe off Poems. Below are the most popular long Wipe off by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wipe off poems by poem length and keyword.
" That's not my elephant!"
Ella yelled at the zoo-keeper...
walking slowly on her hands and feet
scaring the second grader away;
and making a funny face
she added, " She doesn't eat spaghetti!"
with a strong southern accent.
" Young lady, don't make fun
of people and animals...
they have feelings like you!"
but she, with little respect
for the middle-aged man replied,"
Read The Bill Of Rights...I can do
what I like...I have got freedom of speech!"
" I do too, little punk!" Ray answered in rage.
" If you don't knock it off,
you will not see your baby elephant today!"
" Listen, old man I may be a tomboy,
but you have a foul smell and you need a shower!"
" I need a shower...you need to wipe off
that ugly, fat face of yours...what are you trying to do
with all that make-up: look like a cover girl?"
They finally got into a physical fight...
she splashed a bottle of water on the zoo-keeper,
and he wiped the heavy make-up off her face...
"Oh, this fun" she said with excitement...
" Yes, I am having fun too!" he confessed.
And they laughed hard at each other...
while the elephant and second grader danced.
I went to the Heart Center today for my annual echocardiogram
scheduled for 2 pm. Not my favorite place to go, but necessary.
So I take it all in stride because it's important. After all, the heart
is the super most important part of us to keep healthy!
I arrive fifteen minutes early as requested
get comfortable in the waiting room
see lots of elderly people waiting for tests
remember that I just turned eighty
I remind myself that I am not old
they call my name after twenty minutes
more paperwork to fill out
same insurance, same meds, same everything
nothing has changed in a year
I follow the orders and do it
more waiting- check my cell phone
at 3 pm they call me in to the test room
the technician presents me with cute clothing
a bolero-type paper jacket- with instructions
put it on and keep it open in the front
more waiting for her to come back
she returns and tells me to lay on the table
warns me that the gel is very warm
applies it all over my chest and it feels good
she tells me to turn on my left side
her instrument starts searching for my heart
minutes go by and she turns on the sound
thump thump, swish swish, thump thump
swish swish, thump thump- I feel alive
surprised how much noise the heart makes
the sound is quite eerie but comforting
next step, I need to lay flat
more searching with her instrument
I look at the monitor- pictures of my heart
it is 3:40 pm and she is all done
she hands me wads of paper towels
I wipe off the gel and then get dressed
still sticky everywhere
all done now and out the door I go
will return in two weeks for the results
pray my old ticker performed well
hope there's nothing to worry about-
that my leaky valve did not get worse
thank heavens for modern medicine!
August 5, 2019
~2nd Place~
Contest: Writing Challenge 3, July 2019 - List
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Judged: 08/07/2019
What do we find funny
What makes us tickle
Laughter can come easy
But sometimes it's fickle
One person chuckles
Another just groans
Depends on your senses
If you giggle or moan
Some find humour
In most things they see
Depends on your outlook
That's surely the key
Go around moping
With chin on the ground
You sure won't be able
To wipe off that frown
You must laugh at life
And not take it serious
If you fret over things
You'll soon be delirious
So take this advice
From someone who knows
Be happy and jolly
Away with the woes
The world's just a stage
For your comedy routine
Just keep 'em laughing
And try keeping it clean!
© Jack Ellison 2012
I know some deep pain saddens you.
It has been nesting in your heart for long.
Breeding in the silence of your soul
It leaves furrows on your brow.
It intensifies with every deepening night.
Leaving the wound in your heart severely bleeding
Something that you don’t want to divulge,
Robbing all your cheer and ebullience away.
I can feel the smoldering of your heart.
How I wish I could fan away those aches.
Wipe off all the gloom from your mind,
Or at least share a bit of it, my dear!
Even when you wear a mask impenetrable,
You might wonder how I know it.
Is it telepathy that I can read your thoughts?
Sense the rising palpitations of your heart?
When I see your struggle to cover up your pain
And put on a smile that is not genuine,
How I wish I could alleviate your pain,
Staying by your side, wiping those tears away.
Though far, please know I am quite near.
Somewhere so close, round the corner.
I am with you as an unseen presence,
Praying for you ever and wishing you all good.
Life is strange with sudden twists and turns.
Sometimes we feel we have come to a cul de sac.
But never lose hope, any time there can be a turn around.
It’s often after a bleary night, comes the bright morn.
Again, the sun shall show up in the East.
Darkness will recede and light shall descend.
The meadows with dew drops shall shine.
And the woods with the song of birds will resonate.
How I wish to be staying close to you,
To douse the heat of your anguished soul,
And tell you in assured tone and timbre,
That I shall be with you ever, if only I could!
April.15.2023
~ Placed First~
This or That. Vol.17. Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Edward Ibeh
Pretty ocean blue hue,
I ought to tell you,
You belong to very few
People who don't get your clue.
The wonderful job that you do
Staggers me and you too.
And in my point of view,
Whatever you say is true.
Monsoon's dazzling blue night sky,
I ought to tell you,
It's raining, you're no more dry,
Don't let her mascara run, I sue,
Wipe off the tears, don't cry.
The fact that she never knew
May one day you pursue.
Take notice of the time that flew
While you were looking for something new.
You don't sound good, but why?
It's because you always deny
The fact that you are shy
And always wanting to fly sky high.
People barely get your clue
And you always tell unjustified truth.
So beautifully you grew
Your pretty ocean blue hue.
How far do the ripples spread, when eventually we die
Probably stay in the locality, level off, no major outcry
But let’s say we’re famous, suffering unexplained death
The ripples keep expanding, growing further in breadth
See the grotesque nature of spin, is to overplay a scene
Garnishing public outrage, lurid pictures fill our screens
Playing to an audience, ratings become the holy grail
Stories without embellishments, grow tiresomely stale
These ripples are an illusion, imagination going berserk
Carried along by a corrupt deception, truth been shirked
Evidence the one requirement, for establishing all facts
I extrapolate backwards, what the hell there’s no splash
Lines converge into partial truths, confused to a degree
Must be taken with a pinch of salt, querying what I see
Even this soup we enjoy, is manipulated and massaged
Most of the poems are quite good, others form a mirage
Taken out of context a rectangle, can become a square
Brought into focus, desolate pictures, not quite so bare
What’s basically a clean stab, or slash across the wrist
When poets stick in the knife, some give it a good twist
Using poetry for a hidden agenda, political or otherwise
Tantamount to mind-numbing crap, seen in the tabloids
If your going to post propaganda, to further some game
Write it on toilet paper, wipe off, that’s all you’ve gained
By
David Kavanagh
2025.03.10
Who could spare me love?
So I could pampous the world.
Who could give some money?
So I could help the needies.
Who could give me tissues?
So I could wipe off some issues.
Who could lend me an ear?
So I could hear your voice clearer.
Who could give me some colours?
So I could cover the darkness.
Who could remove my emptiness?
So I could fill it up with happiness.
Who could mend my broken heart?
So I could have good regular beats.
Who could help me to keep my memories?
So I could remember who was once nice to me.
Who could stand up for me?
So I could be protected from the bullies.
Who could sing me some nice songs?
So I could feel I was not alone.
Who could play me some music?
So I could write more and more lyrics.
Who could read back my life stories?
So I could remember how I was used to be.
"ALL RISE! THIS HONORABLE COURT IS NOW OPEN AND IN SESSION!"
Th' court room wuz his domain, bailiffin' wuz his profession!
No one dared hornswoggle him in that hallowed room.
Should any nonsense occur, he'd surely lower th' boom!
Usin' th' butts uv his forty-fours, he'd gavel th' court to order.
An' he pounded agin an' agin to quell any cheeky disorder!
The wisened old judge tolerated th' bailiff with some bemusement.
His antics provided folks with local lore an' amusement!
He'd served th' venerable judge fer years on th' western frontier.
His steely-eyed glare filled grovelin' scalawags with fear!
Hoss thieves, cattle rustlers an' drunks he'd seen galore,
An' desperadoes, train an' bank robbers by th' score!
Warn't no guns er bowie knives 'lowed thro' th' front door,
An ya better aim fer th' spittoon an' not mess up his floor!
B'fore enterin' his sacred realm ya'd better wipe off yer boots.
He didn't take no guff frum any of them hell-raisin' galoots!
Adjournment wuz gaveled fer th' old feller an' is talked uv today.
He met th' Big Judge In The Sky, on th' cold floor where he lay.
Seems he vigorously gaveled his rods, a stray slug hit his head!
Th' judge couldn't cope with that an' he too keeled over dead!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
PROUD OF INCIVILITY
They claimed I was naked and uncivilized
So they came to clothe me and ''disrobe'' my naked shame
But I wish I remained the same
For they wiped away my honor and fame.
They claimed I was wild in the forest
So they came to tame
But they introduced me to the 'three fingers bow to two''
When I knew no pistil
They compared me to the race of my people
When I was in my golden age.
I swear to the sun, I knew no evil
Yet they pushed me to the devil's cage
They claimed I was naked and uncivilized
In an attempt to clothe me,
they raped and defiled me.
Even today, I still ooze
They give me a conditional tissue to wipe off the blood
But tell them they do me no good.
They claimed I was wild in the jungle
So introduced me to the words in the 66 chapters,
To tame me I guess,
But they indeed muddied the waters.
For I could not tell between a saint and an atheist,
the minister of Lucifer and the priest .
They taught me with time and age.
They indeed robbed me of my golden age.
Before 15th Century they discovered me
Their humanitarian reason, I still find an irony
Inflicted pain and left wounds in minds of my progeny
Defaced my black beauty.
Today, they give me a conditional pomade to bleach
Tell them they do me no good.
If today, I have been partially freed,
Henry William Sylvester started with that bold seed.
However, today, the battle tree and illusion seem inseparable
For its expected fruits are buried in the minds of successors of the branches and roots
For they(the successors) think the visitors did and do me good
But they did and do me no good.
It's obvious I am black.
Woke up this morning to brilliant sunshine
What a way to start the day
My spirits couldn't be higher
Old Mister Sol and I go back a way
When he drops by can't wipe off this grin
From my very ancient mug
Amazing how Old Sol affects our mood
You could call it a happiness drug
Only happy thoughts should fill our brains
Maybe lost a bunch on the markets
But we pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off
And banish the gloom and darkness
Each day's filled with promise and opportunity
So smile and hang on for dear life
There's bound to be good stuff just up ahead
Coz you don't get to go around twice
So smile damn it...
YOUR FACE WON'T CRACK