Constant thunder, but no blubbering - the clouds are dry,
dark, sultry; and the soil is crying out for alcohol -
A little drink of pink champagne or whisky sour cocktail.
No umbrella!
Squeeze out the plenipotentiary sopped-up water
and let the thunderclouds rip, and roar with delightful glee.
Birds and insects, in hideaway, humming softly, resting.
Categories:
sopped, rain,
Form: Verse
a view before the glass plane
the sun bears her love upon your face
your tears are necessary for me to swallow
as one day, my name will bear not love,
but grief, and, i fear. . .
that will starve you of life – by sorrow.
my journey nears an end beyond belief
and i cannot venture any more with you
our hands will once be un-intertwined
life shattered – as fragile as glass
by the reaper’s gentle breathe
your grief flows–
rapid, destructive, serene, idyllic
leaving you wake in such pain. . .
everything we have built
over such a short span of time
can be built again.
i cannot stop you from caring, even if i tried
like a stormed statue, still and sopped
the drops fueled by mine end,
there is only one thing i can possibly ask
easy and simple, if you can bear
think of me once in a while, my love, take care
Categories:
sopped, grief,
Form: Free verse
Cast me to the seas that have shaken my soul
Throw me down for ignorance revealed as age old
Roll me asunder to the place my knees give way
Scourge my eyes for the things that went unseen in that day
How could I take comfort in a tale so untrue
I was not solid but exposed as milk laid and sopped
No glory is before them that gather at the base and await
Those who have fallen by the hands of that quake not by fate
Categories:
sopped, conflict, corruption, evil, grief,
Form: Elegy
dimwit damping desires
punctured passion pulsing
puking, sopped plenary
impregnated zeal gnashing
odd offshoot scolding
cremated cusses cobbling
hewn nosy tracery
strapped self scrunching
jumpy jazz jolting
mystic mist moaning
lusty limbs lurching
felon feigning ally;
perforated pulpy pedigree.
19:11:30:5:00
Note: To all corrupt Police Officers!
Categories:
sopped, corruption,
Form: Sonnet
Vicious storms rolled through... we got sopped
Played Mini-Golf dancing between the raindrops
A fun time for all
Swatting the wee ball
Came in last but still came out feeling on top
Categories:
sopped, golf,
Form: Limerick
Every day we woke up hungry.
We ate our little bowls of freedom
At the breakfast table.
Then Momma washed the breakfast dishes.
In the summer,
Momma grew maters and beets.
She stooped in earnest to keep us fed.
We sopped our shame with bread.
Yellow dishes lay in the sink.
We lived those years without thinking
About leaving the little white house.
The check came once a month.
We pinched our pennies carefully.
The house stood dressed in red shutters
On a street that no one cared about.
Time wore a yellow calm.
Momma’s dishes lay in the sink.
In the winter,
We huddled closer to the stove.
Steam grew on the windows,
Fried taters and a pot of beans.
Yellow dishes rattled in the sink.
On the back porch, thin cats waited
For a bite of something worth eating.
They cried at the screen door
While Momma washed the breakfast dishes.
At supper time,
We ate our plates of charity,
Fried bologna and government cheese
With a false sense of peace.
Every night we went to bed hungry.
Categories:
sopped, america, food, poverty,
Form: Light Verse
TOOT SUITE
Alas, as hunters treed their prey
envisioning the feast
gravied meal at end of day
sopped up in breaded yeast.
An ill wind blew
and no one knew
from where it emanated
As sugar in the innards boils
and then - a little toot uncoils
Categories:
sopped, food, humor,
Form: Rhyme
Wolves are howling in the midnight mist,
like a scorned lover who had just been kissed.
Their howls are deep and profoundly heard,
dragging their prey that's just been lured.
Tearing through flesh with all of their might,
satisfying their hunger with one jagged bite.
The smell of death is lingering in the air closely by,
while vultures are soaring in the dark stromy sky.
Lightning is flashing in the clouds up high,
while thunder is booming as the wolves hungerly cry.
Rain cascades down at a hard fast pace,
while the wild of the forest crave just one more taste.
Winds are raging blowing hard and fast,
while the wolves carry away their remaining stash.
The sky grew clear the winds have stopped,
as the wolves prance on a ground that's just been sopped.
Falling asleep satisfied with their feast,
awaiting their hunger on the next big beast.
Categories:
sopped, animal, dark, howl, imagery,
Form: Rhyme
YOU AIN'T COUNTRY
If you've never...
Swept the front yard (No, not the porch but the yard),
Played under the porch (Yes, under)
Intentionally eaten dirt
(Not just any dirt, mind you, that good ole
red clay kind)
Gone barefoot outside...all day
And seen old car tires used as
Flower planters and yard decorations and swings...
You ain't country.
If you’ve never...
“Sopped” syrup or gravy with a biscuit
Shelled the peas for your supper or
Drank coffee from the saucer
You ain’t country
If you don't know what a truck patch is
Or about the grease can on top of the stove
Or that canning vegetables does NOT involve a can...
You ain't country.
If you've never used a mason jar as a drinking glass
Or to eat milk and bread from
Or to catch fireflies in..
Or to cut out homemade biscuits with
You ain't country.
And, if you're not shaking your head in agreement
And smiling a bit as you remember....
I know for sure
You ain't country
2012 Patricia Neely-Dorsey
#country #countrylife
Categories:
sopped, culture, life, poems,
Form: Free verse
I chose my own destiny
No matter how my story seems
I make my own path
No matter what you say
My spirtit is free
I am not able to be held back
My spirit is as wild as my horses
We ride into the wind together
As wild as a forset fire
No one can calm or lessen it
When I ride I am free
From the pressure of life
An escape to the everyday
No you will not hold me back
I will not be sopped
I will become bulletproof
Becoming a part of my own history
No you do not write my story
I do
Its wild and free
Not held down by chains
Not held back by reighns
So I create my own
Fairytale
Categories:
sopped, dedication
Form: I do not know?
What a daughter am I?
To fall astray
What a wretch to leave the way
I’ve failed again
Fallen harder this time
On a step that never tripped me before
Am I growing weaker?
Or have I just sopped trying
No- I’m trying I know
It’s just different this time
I’m not getting back up
Least not yet-I’m thinking
I don’t understand why I can’t run
Others are running-
Others are smiling-
But every time I smile
Another enemy tends to attack
What wrong with me
Will I ever learn?
Or do we never learn
Is that it?
Do we just keep trying?
Because that’s ok just as long as that’s ok
Just as long as I’m not expected to soar
I don’t know
Guess I’ll get back up
I’ll start climbing again
Maybe that just it
It’s a long hard road
We are expected to climb
We will never reach the top
We will ever slip and fall
But how better can we show our love
That to simply
Climb on.
Categories:
sopped,
Form: I do not know?
I'm lookin' for somethin'
To make me feel better.
I'm kinda sad, maybe blue,
And most of it's because of you!
Gonna shop til I drop
Courtesey of you.
Then head to the bar
And have me a few.
I might throw a pity party,
even dance on the bar.
You're not invited,
And I'm keepin' the car.
Gonna shop til I drop
Courtesey of you
Then head to the bar
and have me a few.
Bartender, can I call a cab?
Can I leave my car here?
I'm all partied out,
and had too many beers!
I'm standing at the door
143 Broken Road on the outskirts of town.
My family home where my mom lives now.
I knock and knock some more.
I hear the door open,
And I fall to the floor!
She laughs as she pulls me in.
It's nice to be on this couch again.
In no time at all
The sun will beat down.
Last night I had a ball,
Now Im wearin' a frown
Sopped til I dropped
Courtesey of you.
Then I went to the bar
and had me a bunch!
Your visa's maxed out
And your car's at the bar.
There's the phone.
Is it you or did I give that bartender my number
Categories:
sopped, loss, sad, song-me, me,
Form: Lyric
With locked jaw frustration resembling pain,
with a mind bubbling over releasing so as not to go insane
I write....
From the corner of my mind that rocks back and forth
along side the pitiful person who knows not her worth
I write....
Sponged in sadness, sopped in madness
overly concerned with the worlds un gladness
I write....
Wonder why this, wonder why that,
needing to know all of the facts
I write....
Point of view here, point of view there
so long as the point is relatively fair
I write....
Categories:
sopped, life, mystery, passion, sad,
Form: I do not know?