Short Sopping Poems

Black snow on pavement
Dog paws sopping and muddy
The first signs of spring...

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Sopping wet tulip
Tries hard to conserve droplets
Caught in rainy day
But cannot stop dripping
Out of fringe of the petals...

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A saving grace from
The stormiest weather 
A sun to shine down upon
Drying up my sopping tears
To place them in a basin of
Your love...

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Horrible
Soured scent
Spills forth from

Sopping wet
Old carpet
Now that rain 

Has gone, left
Its too late
Too avoid  ...

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Grass sopping wet 
Roads covered in rain
Asphalt slippery 
Yet again

Dismally upsetting
All Earth looks wrong
Yielding to what nature wants
She sings this dreary song...

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weather’s
trying

humid
hazy 

has me
sighing

feeling
lazy

temps not
dropping

sweat is
pooling

clothes are 
sopping

we crave
cooling

autumn’s 
coming

respite 
bringing

I’ll be
humming

praising
singing!...

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Dear Mo, my Ottawa sweetie, told me of this phrase
She and Gramma used when they spilled coffee in the morning haze
Instead of bosoms, they'd emit
This phrase “Booby Bibs”
Natural "quicker picker uppers" for sopping coffee up in a daze...

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not knowing
so told so by
using sponge
sopping up
spills knowledge

now i know
wigs are given
names so you
can become
someone else

there goes
Madonna and
there's Oliver
he was once
a she but now

it's all in
the wig


(Thank you Maureen)...

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BUMP
Under the bed
I am awake.

SMASH
Outside the door
I am standing.

THUMP
On the stairs
My hand on the doorknob.

SMACK
At the front door
I am in the hallway.

BANG
Outside in the rain
I am sopping wet.

SQUISH
They walk through the rain
I am drenched in blood....

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the crowd went
silent it was 
a knockout a
touchdown a
grand slam

first 
of his
ever and never
forgotten to be
ever

then the game
who was cooler
last draw loser
do or never
throw in

the towel
perspirinated
sopping 
even
now

give or 
take three
shakes rock
paper or 
scissor...

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grey is the color
dismal the feeling
a sopping wet day,i can't say-
I find that appealing

rain penetrating
sharp as an arrow
stinging and shrill it is chilling me=
down to the marrow

perhaps in the morning
this storm will have ended
and I'll drink from my cup as the sun rises up=
like a warm hand of friendship 
extended...

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Wednesday's the middle of the sandwich
  equidistant from weekends -- unhitched
Plenty of room for all those toppings
  ketchup, mayo and rain showers -- she's sopping

How unjust, other days' inequitable ways
  they'd blanch at my nickname of 'Hump Day'...
Alas, ignominy grinds on; the day's not yet over
  ~ Tomorrow's Thursday, that four-leaf clover...

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Medusa’d
dishevelled, 
and snake oiled gleaming

That day of grey Tuesday was remediously teeming

Simply chilli,
chopped onion,
or tragedy-eyed streaming



Girls Gone Wilderness, 
cling-filminess;
two sopping wet cupfuls

I opened, then poured some number of n-tuples

We were one o’ those 
fight nail,
tooth pick olive,
and lemon twisted couples...

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May this Sopping Drop Undour Your Hour
Ephemeral Firefly Flash Teases,
Dark, Cold, Cloud Rain Squeezes,
Sizzling Seasonal Heat Deceases,
Your Joyful Hued Plantsies,
Raise Little Petal Handsies,
To Happy Birthday Lindsey!
This Rhyme Making You Queasy?
It's Nearly Over, Rest Easy,
Dennis, Dan, Peter, & All, Will Relieve You Peacely,
From these Verses Rise Yeastly!...

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In sapphire skies dabbled with marshmallow clouds,

a citrine sun shines like a precious jewel.

And I rush to the beach to avoid the crowds,

hoping to find a shady spot where it's cool.

The humidity morphs into drops of sweat,

and my entire body is soon sopping wet.

But once I get there, it's not such a bummer,

just a typical hot day in the summer.


(Rispetto)


7/7/2018...

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Meet vain, clueless Vaughn, introvert
he offers a drink, he's alert.
    Bold Brenda comes on
    with kisses for Vaughn;
wine spills on his brand-new white shirt.

He grabs for a towel in a sec
and sopping, finds arms ‘round his neck.
     What’s next? more or less,
      I’ll leave to your guess.
when spring air blows across Vaughn's deck.

February 16, 2022

host: Mohan Chutani
contest: Spring in Air...

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O~ what dread
My muse in bed
Dear me~ that's ink she's bled
Tried sopping it with bread
Her boots been filled with lead
I think she's good as dead

O~ good grief she said
Shaking her head
You've been misled
You plain misread
She left her body there and fled



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Submitted on August 4, 2020 for contest FAVOURITE POEM IN RHYME FROM JULY 2019 sponsored by JULIA WARD

Originally posted on July 29, 2019...

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Fear led the day the minute the hour 
              Savoring every void absorbing all the power
             Hope held me up above the drowning river
           Sopping drenched clothes unstoppable shiver
          Prayer for a higher power to give me strength
       When all else fails a safety rope of just enough length
          And an Angel of Mercy whom pulled me to shore
              God bless you God I could ask for no more. 
                                  Amen...

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Do a wash with fitted sheets
And often, you’ll be finding
Socks or t-shirts stuck inside
In need of some unwinding.

For as the dryer spins around
Such items are attracted
Into the vortex of those sheets
And need to be extracted.

It’s easy to forget to look
So by the time I spy them,
The cycle’s almost finished
And there isn’t time to dry them.

Each laundry day I wonder,
As I open the machines,
What those sheets have trapped; today
It was a pair of sopping jeans!...

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