Long Wriggled Poems
Long Wriggled Poems. Below are the most popular long Wriggled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wriggled poems by poem length and keyword.
Standing at the entrance small
I looked deep into the hall
Searching for the depth of life
I found it sitting to my right
It beckoned with a small frail hand
I braved it all I took a stand
I walked right in I had my doubts
but dare not show my internal plight
I moved closer and what a sight
it stood up to it’s full height
my first thought was to bolt and run
but I stood rooted to the spot
It glared at me or did it wink?
I did not know how to think
My lips were moving without a sound
I could feel it had pinned me to the ground
I wriggled with all my might
I made up my mind to put up a fight
slowly I felt it loosen it’s grip
I quickly stood up and gave it the slip.
(This is an old poem re entered)
In a dreary mood, bent and broken,
With an ailment that crippled my life
I lay bedridden for many a month
With every muscle weakened by arthritis
And every nerve radiating the pain
Dull were the days and sore were the nights,
Time slouched on in mechanical beats,
Mind devoid of any buoyant thoughts,
Senses shut to every cheery throb of life,
I lay awake, day and night staring at the ceiling.
Never a smile lighted up my face,
Nor a gleam of hope brightened up my brain.
Inertia crept over from head to foot.
I had long lost my zest for life.
With my life sap drained out like an empty well,
All I felt was the burn of scalding drought.
Nothing could move my grief laden soul,
None could lift the weight off my back,
Embers of fire sparked from the anvil of my heart,
Heaves of sighs escaped my parched mouth,
I wriggled and writhed in unspeakable pain,
My spirits sank deeper into a slithery marsh,
I saw around only a thick pall of gloom,
Or was it a projection of my own self?
Anguish gnawed my nerves and sinews,
Flames of pain danced within my spine,
I felt my head wobbling and reeling,
And the heavy weight of lead all around my neck.
Felt being pushed down to abysmal depths,
And the octopus tightening its tentacles all around.
“Who on earth will set me free?
What on earth can lift me up?”
With thundering force, the question shook my weary self.
I sprang to my feet and broke the binding chains,
I found I was but in self – exile,
A captive entrapped within boundless space.
I saw the door opening to infinite lengths,
And the arched horizon looming larger than life,
Unbroken, I spread my wings and propelled up,
And darted through the clouds to distant shores.
Who would have thought, my life would change this way!
(Own Story)
Paul was alright when we last met;
Various promises to each other,we had made.
The last time I heard from him,
He was pleading with me not to join his team.
What team? I knew not what he meant!
So,away from his request,my life; I bent.
Three days passed without hearing from Paul.
Do worriers like him secretly fall?
He had alot strangling him where I was not;
Was he kidnapped? Did he die in a homicide? I thought.
The next time I had about him,he had given up;
His wings of strength on which I sat while he flew around,he could no longer flap.
To the throne of death,he had bowed and given in,
Like he knew not how painful it would be for me; like drowning in sin.
Where I wasn't,Paul purchased poison.
He thought not about his family, for example Jason;
His only brother that got his support entirely from him.
We don't understand why he would watch his light grow dim,
While he closed his eyes never to open them again.
He forced the drink down his throat like he expected more gains!
He wriggled in pain like a caterpillar.
Helplessly,he breathed his last as it fell on him; his pillar!
Stiff like the corpse he was,froth surrounding his mouth,
He lay dead on the ground unable to feel the tickle of a louse.
Paul had the power to change whatever he was going through.
He could reverse his difficulties with all he had; this is absolutely true.
How I wish he had fought a little bit harder!
How I wish he had held on and climbed more up his ladder!
It was at that point that i understood what he meant by team;
Under no circumstances did he want me to give in!
We shall live to celebrate his life, for he had a beautiful soul.
Wherever he is,I know he will be by my side,holding my hand as I grow tall,
In fulfillment of our dream. Witnessing me grow tall.
When at first I knew you were there
it was with a gentle nudge;
But soon you grew, and so did I,
with only my waistline to begrudge.
When you first moved it seemed to me
like the quiver of cool jello,
The flutter of fur, a butterfly wing
and I loved your touch so mellow.
But soon your movements grew more defined -
you kicked like a mule I said;
You wriggled like a worm then jumped like a frog.
"Are we sure this baby is human?" we guessed.
I felt your touch, as your father couldn't,
then knew your urge for life;
But, you voice to me, a secret hidden,
a joy to hear at the dawn of your life.
First poem entered to Poetry Soup 7/25/2018
Looking at a tiny ant, I thought,
"Shall I kill thee or shall I not?"
When a mosquito my hand did bite,
I hit out at it in spirited spite,
Then from the corner of my eye,
I saw a cockroach saying 'Hi',
Exasperated, I threw up my hands,
Only to find a lizard in the stands,
As I shook my head in utter distaste,
A centipede wriggled past me in haste,
What was that - a chirping sound?
That must be the cricket going around,
And did that spider just laugh at me?
Of course, that's called "the eight-legged glee".
If only bugs could read and write,
I'd put up a board in black and white,
"Insects not welcome inside,
Go, find another place to hide."
But since they can't, I mope about
With a broom, trying to drive them out.
07/01/17
A disturbance in the sand
betrayed their hide
and when prodded by a rake,
claws shot up
primed to latch onto
a careless finger or toe.
A big "bluey" had a fearsome
bite and seemed
to prefer to sacrifice a claw
rather than let go. Their grip
on the rake, though, was their
undoing, hanging on whilst
being lifted up then shaken
loose to fall helpless
into a floating tub.
By morning's end
the tub would be
a writhing fill of crabs
clawing to free themselves
from a hopeless fate.
It was a pathetic sight.
Hauled ashore, most
were still alive when Dad
and I got them home.
They wriggled and bubbled
in the damp bottom
of the metal tub.
I can remember the salty smell
of what I thought was fear
let out by their silent screams.
Their suffering seemed
too much to justify a feed.
Then I would think of Jesus
and the fish he caught
to expunge my childhood guilt.
Taken out and washed clean
they would be dropped
into a big iron pot and boiled
until they turned bright red,
the color of demons stoking
hellfire in a bible picture book.
Smiling down on the speckles of sand,
already the warmth is fading.
Dreaming of brilliant
stars to appear
as their mother rested on waves.
At the height of graceful magnificence
her soft chrome glow diminishing.
One last show
she would provide
before she went to bed.
She reached her arms to the skies
and bid her children "good night."
Sinking slowly,
hesitantly,
into the darkness,
she painted the heavens with hues,
magenta, tangerine, and cyan she had bestowed.
A tinge of violet creeping softly in,
bleeding unnoticeably, one into the other
until a rich ocean blue had been made.
Movements of life
slowed, blurred,
dreams wriggled deep into minds,
darkness blanketed
the land with its quilts.
And Earth slumbered once more.
Tim looked at the strong box crafted in oaken wood saplings and reason
Inside a map of his world he had travelled with dreams gusto and passion
Far away seas crested in a whirl wind of passage collected within and
Not without a longing desire for sails full of change and direction afar
A faded cross right pointed to where the treasure must lie and to where
The chest was buried deep in the quick sand of time or was it a coffin
He was nailed boxed in wrapped up in oil paper stabbed with his anchor
A pirate had pulled the plug and Tim perched on a dry dock of thought
Cliff faces and reefs obstructed horizons and sails were glued to the mast
And the ‘must’ to end suffocation but the bilge was flooding and scuppered
The crow’s nest for outlook swung precariously from one side to other as
Jacob’s ladder had lost most of its rungs as even the transom cried treason
His torso wriggled in the trunk but the binnacle bowed not for the compass
But then the needle found headway where scrawny worms had gathered
Punctured the confinement and the boom chain snapped emotional drought
At long last and long may it last Tim found a ferry to the chest in his heart
02 March 2019
He sat up in the corner and he sensed impending doom
With two ‘two leggers’ flat against the wall across the room
His mother said don’t worry that you’re just a tiny spider
Stand your ground, my son, and spread your legs a little wider
For here’s a secret that is gonna give you quite a giggle
The humans have a seizure when you give your legs a wriggle
So he giggled as he wriggled then he dropped onto the mat
And lay still for a moment so he didn’t wake the cat
Then slowly hauled himself back up toward his ceiling lair
The humans now stood squealing on a table and a chair
So, showing off now, spidey made his hairy body quiver
And revelled in his triumph as he watched the humans shiver
But pride doth come before a fall and spiders do not differ
A blast of fly spray made our spider feel a little stiffer
And as our humans found that they now felt a little bold
Each stepped forward, now wielding the magazines they’d rolled
So now our scary spider found his joke had fallen flat
And as his brain went through his butt he heard his last sound.....
SPLAT!!!
The warm sand trickled through my fingers.
I wriggled my toes and felt no shoes.
Opening my eyes and quickly closing them.
The bright sun blinded me for a moment.
The gentle ripple of waves lapping the shore.
I sat up from my sandy resting place.
The day was hot and the air was so fresh.
I still had my party clothes on, and what was this?
A note in my pocket, scribbled on crumpled paper.
It read: What a gr8 party, Welcome to our tropical isle, please stay.
Slowly my eyes focused. I read a sign SWIM BETWEEN THE FLAGS
Shaking the sand off me as I stood, I tried to make out where I was.
Still groggy from those wonderful cocktails last night,
I vaguely remembered being too smashed to drive.
Not to worry, I am unharmed and had a great time.
It’s a beaut day, and this beach is pretty amazing.
I picked up my shoes laying beside me, heels weren’t for the beach.
Wandering along the shoreline, the cool wet sand underfoot.
A familiar sign on the life guard’s club house read :
Queensland, beautiful one day perfect the next. The Gold Coast
Laughing, I ran across the warm sand to the street.
Time to walk half a mile back to where the party was to collect my car.
I was in my own beautiful wonderful tropic Island.
Palm trees lining the beaches, sunny days on golden sand.
Amazing animals found nowhere else, tropical fruit, and coconuts,
Bananas and mangos and pineapple and my favorite pawpaw.
Clean clear water from our dams, friendly multicultured folk,
Cute lifesavers, Oh no way would I ever want to leave here !
So proud of my Australian, tropical island home.