"splish" poems
Went to my ancestor's home on a Spring season that year..
On a Holi day in the land of Chanchadari
A peaceful morning in Hoshiarpur, the doors to Himalaya
Happy Holli day!! The kids shout with cheer
Holi Hai! Holi Hai! Lets play Holi!!!
He woke up early morning that day..
With a bucket of colored water waiting for me
I stepped outside my grandpa's door
In a split second I was soaked in a coloured water…
From head to toes… red, orange, yellow, purple… the colors of Holi…
Ohh It's a Hoi Hai day alright…
Lets play Holi … Lets play Holi..
Hails spring with ecstasy and joy!
The trees smile with their sprout
of tender leaves and blooming flowers,
The land of beauty and greatness,
India, witnessing color of happiness and peace.
Nation come alive to enjoy the spirit
A celebration of color- Holi!
An experience of content, harmony and delight.
Holi colors of red, green, yellow and countless.
A day's canvas - a riot of colors.
Lively crowd running, dancing, playing
Rainbow of colors, Lets play Holi and splish and splash!!
Lets play with the frenzy colors .. play on Holi Hai day….
I am dreaming of playing with colors with you
It is the Holi celebration after all.
I can't play inside my home, the carpets will get tainted,
I cant' play it in the yard, the grass and outer walls will get painted.
I thought I would go to the secret garden of ours,
and play with you Holi hai day …
It's a colourful day just you and me..
In love on Holi Hai day…. Lets play Holi..
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
If I listen carefully,
I can hear the lapping of the ocean tide.
The splish
splash
of skipping rocks.
If I close my eyes,
I can feel the sun again.
The warmth my hands held
For those few seconds.
If I stop for a moment,
I can still find traces of those stolen moments.
Of that sweet summer
Trailing in the October breeze.
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
Hello, I am a puddle person.
I'm certainly not the only puddle person, of course.
And I often think I'm more puddle then person.
I lay on the floor still.
People come by and see themselves reflected in me.
Sometimes they step in me, and drops of me splish around and evaporate.
I'm content being a puddle it's, comfortable.
People are aware of me whether looking at themselves, tip toeing around me or jumping in.
I am NOT invisible.
Love me or hate me this puddle person isn't going anywhere,
until I become more puddle then person.
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 10:22 AM UTC
*Pitter patter pitter patter.
The rain hits the Earth's surface.
I lay on my bedside,
waiting for the storm to pass.
I watch three racing water droplets,
collecting more as they go.*
*Drip drop drip drop.
The droplets create a city of mud and worms are crawling outside of the Earth's surface.*
*Splish splash splish splash.
Kids are stomping in the rain,
angering their mothers.
They ***** their school shoes,
leaving a mess on the hardwood floors.*
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 12:14 AM UTC
Pit-pat goes the rain
Falling all around.
From under my umbrella
I watch it hit the ground.
Splish-splash go the puddles
As I come stomping through.
My boots keep me nice and dry,
And my umbrella too.
Outside it's wet and drippy
As rain falls from the sky,
But underneath my umbrella
I stay cozy and dry.
And though the sky is cloudy
And the sun has hidden her face,
Under my own little umbrella
I have a happy, pleasant place.
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 11:09 AM UTC
You quickly approach
A puddle of mud
Small enough to step over
But you thought it'd be fun
To splish and splash
And make a mess
But it's dirtied your face
And ruined your dress
You stomp out of the puddle
It has ruined your day
You look back in anger
And head on your way
But what is to blame here,
The action or trouble?
The mud or the splashes?
The person or puddle?
Don't walk into mud
Then complain of the mess
If you want to stay clean
Just watch where you step
Not all, but many outcomes
Are up to us
So be careful that your actions
Will lead to what you want
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 12:10 AM UTC
Splish splash
The waves crash on the sandy shore
Attracted to the ground up rocks
Like children to lollipops
Or bees to flowers.
Splish splash
The waves are getting fierce
Rain is starting to pour
Like a child with a hose
Spraying their brother on a warm summer day.
Splish splash
The waves are like skyscrapers
Towering above me
Maybe I should go; I’m all alone now.
Splish splash
The waves have formed into one
One giant wave covering my island
I run away, up the mountain.
Splish splash
The devastation is done
The buildings lie everywhere
So do the bodies
I am the only survivor.
Why
Why did I survive and not the wise old man down the street
Why not the old merchant who only sold oranges and beets
What would father say?
I know
I know what he would say
He would say, “Because you are you and no one else is you. That’s why you survived.”
Now he is gone
Splish splash
The waves are calm again
Attracted to the sandy shore
Like children to lollipops
Or bees to flowers
Mar 19, 2010
Mar 19, 2010 at 3:15 PM UTC
Though I splish
Though I splash
*** I drink so fear my wrath
Behold my mate
Behold my captain
Cutlasses ring and we are laughing
Pity me not
Pity the foe
Sink him to the godless unknown
Plunder the hold
Plunder her chest
Strife we be so do not rest
Sink the English
Sink the Spanish
We rule here so we **** them
Free we are
Free we be
A lavish life is the one for me
If I am hanged
If I am dead
Fear not mate I swam to land
Cut your foes
Cut their friends
We rule this kingdom
In the Queen Anne's Revenge!
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 8:48 PM UTC
the night was already crazy-wild by the time
we arrived at Jarred's pool.
he had a big house but we never went in
4 teens, teen dream, a dream team;
but I knew deep down just what it was
we snuck out for.
a "transform-optional" rite, this hollow night.
but I still had doubts...
as Jarred offered me an aluminum can of something and I nervously said, "no thank you",
the moon had proudly jut out
he had a big house but we never went in.
I hadn't noticed, without the moonlight, just how
sharp Jarred's teeth and fingernails were.
canines, ivory & sporadic. looking at me
I hadn't noticed how reptilian our 2 friends were
The fangs and dislocating jaws, tendrils & scales.
Man-o-war for a head, giant earthworm for an arm
She looked scarier than he.
Those 2 went at each other in a murderous way
A blood sport of sorts. Confusing to me.
She spread her jaws wide - a parachute with teeth
And bit down hard between his legs.
Blood everywhere. Blood spattered on her face
She looked ****** god-awful by then.
The meat of his dead body then re-animated
And assimilated with hers. Anabiosis + Differentiate
Jarred, a werewolf or something like it, approached me.
He had a big house but we never went in.
we chatted poolside for a while
he'd go harmoniously from monster to human, human to monster.
Boiling cancerous growths under his fur
Grew angry eyes that glared at me.
clawhand on the back of my neck,
he went in for a kiss (or a bite)
with a puckered face and bared teeth.
This is it.
I finally felt a grossness so profound that I,
without thinking, jumped in the pool
to splish-splash, cool, to escape, whatever
I opened my eyes and just floated there for a bit.
hanging in the stillness
trying to forget those alien freaks
staring up at the moon
from the bottom of a pool.
Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 10:33 PM UTC
_red
neon
rain spattered
pavements teeming;
one thousand prismatic shades of meaning
graffiti-laden puddles splish, splosh, splash;
as midnight turns
to blue, and
dawn to
ash_
Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 10:10 PM UTC
He is a bookworm humming marching tunes with a caribou.
They smell the sky, hear the sand, see the bright red light with their tongues.
Ed Ed the Knucklehead hides his hands in Ottawa.
Ed never hid his hands, he revealed them for all to see.
Splish-Splash, Splish-Splash, his webbed feet slap the tiled floor,tasting, tasting, tasting.
Walking, walking, walking
The foul-smelling wall of hunger screams empty codes at the freezing sun.
"Calculus," whispers Ed, "I want more Calculus."
The math will sneak by, he will feel its shadow; but not yet.
Sour triangles whirling openly greet the visitors.
Powerfully they mask their entrance embracing fraudulent identities.
The caribou now speaks his truth, "Ani rotzeh tachtonim."
Blindly the door opens and reveals all that the caribou desires stripes, rainbows, little flowers.
Down the long pathway to nowhere.
Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 5:45 PM UTC
I have one wrist shackled to my watch strap
dragging me to obey the sweeping hands of another
like a traffic cop ordering hours of peaks to start and stop
relentlessly spilling time from a once brimming cup
splish splash out into oceans of flashy imaginings
I need the delicate precision of a jeweller's screwdriver kit
to make sense of the shared purpose of the springs
pushing the wheels to wear green amber red carats
tiny diamonds that aren't meant to sparkle
but sit immovable within sealed circles waiting
in partnership
inexorably waiting
patiently forever for the sun to release its shackle
the chain dripping a ting a ting
from the earth into a new star
winding up the decayed orbiting
to trap the same diamonds on a second
hand swept somewhere afar
and with a roll ex-galaxies expired
their guest president bracelet
their gasped jewelled weight
in loving eyes of liquid gold
not ordering us two
to be a slave to anything
now time shone
free could not be sold
apart ever again
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 11:40 AM UTC
tik tok tik tok
the sound of my personal clock
tik tok tik tok
the time bomb that just wont stop
*ding **** ding ****
the sound of a visitor here
*ding **** ding ****
the pain they try to feel
splish splash splish splash
the sound of the somber rain
splish splash splish splash
fills an ocean full of my pain
knock knock bang bang
the pain the visiter can finally feel
knock knock bang bang
the pain they try to heal
once i open the door and
let them in they save me
from my own ordeal
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 4:45 AM UTC
Splish splash splish splash
Into the water
My paddles crash
Neither a care nor a bother
Gliding along
I listen to the river's song
My mind it soothes
My soul it moves
Silver flashes
As a drum flits by
And otter play
So pleasing to my eye
Water sloshes against my boat
While I watch an eagle fly
Man I love to float
Muddy waters flow on by
Man I love to float
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 2:48 PM UTC
Dear Mister Splee, I have a story for thee.
A man of humble attire, went fo’ a walk on a dull wire.
Skilled he kept balance, with nothing but a lance.
With a great long stride, he made it to the other side.
Back he went from one side to the other,
he grabbed nineteen polar bears and a ladder.
He carried them across just for fun.
Amazingly it was all at once not one by one.
The whole audience,awed with just a glance,
While monkeys surrounded and began to dance.
He dropped the ladder down, until it reached ground.
And the monkeys climbed up, pouring tea in a cup.
The polar bears climbed down with elegant ease.
I swear one of them sneezed.
But skilled he kept them balance, with nothing but a lance.
The acrobats were on the trapeze, they looked humbly appeased.
Thirty elephants all whiny and giddy.
Climbed the ladder all silly nilly.
Rhinos and Tigers performed ballet.
I hope you might get to see their performance someday.
The monkeys now on tightrope now hung,
By their tails they now flung.
The humble man on tightrope did sat,
collecting the teacups into his hat.
The elephants dove from the top,
into a pool, splish, splish, splop! splop!
O how I wish fo’ you to see the Tigers dancing.
O how I wish fo’ you to see the Rhinos prancing.
A lion or two just fo’ show,
Jump through hoops caught on fire
And a smile caught my eye from the man on the wire
He jump off, down the ladder.
He walked up to me, with glee
and told me to “tell this to Mister Splee:
Come visit me O’ Mister Splee
This circus was designed just for ye”
I told Mister Splee
And a tear rolled down his cheek
Sadder than he could be
He said: “That circus has long since been dead.”
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:44 AM UTC
He opened his eyes to view ***** hands regretfully in filth.
Sitting in the rain he realized it.
splish, splash, patter patter
He had made a mistake.
splish, splash, patter, patter
He kept his eyes closed believing the rain would wash the filth away.
splish, splash, patter patter
It wasn't until that moment in the rain.
He opened his eyes to view ***** hands regretfully in filth.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 11:56 PM UTC
i am at the top of beggar’s peak
i have lived alone
i brew tea and sit serenely staring at the top of the world
the sky holds me in and i am thankful
i am wading in mudslap creek
i have swum alone
i splish, splash and stomp in the gold forest with all my livelihood
the earth holds me up and i am thankful
i am strolling in baldie woods
i have seen a home
i cut, craft and toil all the day long in perfect serenity
the world embraces me and i am thankful
i am dead in this gracious world
i have lived content
i breathed, climbed and sang all my life without wrong and all things were gold
the gods love on me and i am thankful
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 5:54 PM UTC
Owls say who
cows go moo
ghosts say boo
nothing new
horse goes neigh
but what does the turtle say?
bird wings go flip flap
fish fins go splish splash
horse hooves go clip clop
snake belly goes slither
Santa Clause says ** ** **
but what's the sound of the camel toe?
What day is it?
Everyday Is **** Day
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
Streaming sunlight and horse tails lightly swaying in the breeze, flicked lazily at gadflies.
Hoarse dove cries echo hauntingly as I wander across lush grass, towards the murky pond.
Dry, splintery boards of the rickety grey dock creak under my feet. Stone still, opaque brown-green water lies beneath. I close my eyes, resting my hands on the railing, letting the euphonious melody of rasping doves, cheeky robins, and other chirping birds blend with the bubbling sound of running water in the distance, and wash over me. The water bubbles and froths, it has a foamy sound, not as clear and ringing as streams and fountains back home.
Carefree.
Bullfrogs splish and dart into the silty pondweed.
It’s all as if this little world requires no purpose, it’s enough that it simply... is.
If only I could find peace in simply existing. Freedom to just be.
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 1:45 AM UTC
Cottonball girls with Q-tip legs dance gently
On Epsom salt beaches
As waves of rubbing alcohol lick their feet.
Father, let us run among them.
Let us clean and clear our faces in their festival of mirrors.
We shall rebury the awful jewels I found
With the failed veiled assassin's prescribed directions.
Rx marks the spot.
You may keep the map, for it keeps you in knowledge.
I do not wish that curse upon my conscience.
You may keep the knowledge, for it keeps you in power.
I do not wish the crown in that course.
Molten
Molten
Forty milligram
Molten
Sterilehappy
Nov 15, 2010
Nov 15, 2010 at 8:09 PM UTC
The neighbor kids
come down to play...
On a warm and sunny
Summer day...
We would each get into
the small wash tub...
with a splish and a splash
and sometimes a shove...
With our suits stretched out
and hanging down...
the shower cap made
me look like a clown...
the tub was small
and we squeezed in three...
Duane and carol
and there always was me...
by ~ judy
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
Splish, splash, splish and splosh,
Katalyn always enjoys a laugh,
Her imagination running a riot,
Whenever she is having a bath.
Katalyn sees fairies inside bubbles,
Funny creatures her mind has made,
A grinning blue-finned-fairy-dolphin,
And even a singing, fairy-mermaid!
Together they sing bath-time songs,
Often sharing some staggering tales,
Adventures of wrestling an octopus,
Or riding the backs of giant whales.
Sometimes, Katalyn imagines a fairy,
Blowing magic bubbles round the room,
With the help of a very pretty witch,
Making bubbles with a magic broom.
Katalyn thinks bubbles brim with magic,
Like her imagination, so much fun,
Especially shared with funny-fairy-folk,
Until at last, her bath-time is done!
© Paul Chafer 2014
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 4:58 PM UTC
Holiday: a man backstrokes
oh so gently in the hotel pool.
It’s breakfast time. Bean juice
coagulates on my plate.
I watch the man’s languid, enchanting
backstroke and, for some reason,
it inflates my heart with sentimental joy.
This semi-corpulent middle-aged man,
is, right now,
The Most Beautiful Thing On Earth:
His arcing limbs do not slap or thrash,
but plop into the drink like skipping stones.
He is a babbling brook. A water feature.
The splish-splosh trickle-truckle of a spa waiting room.
And what’s more, this forty-something baldy
gliding through the water
fills me with love for all humanity,
because he seems blithely rapt
in absolute peace
(despite the room rates at this place).
But then, I realise, all of this might be
free association of the mind
linking this moment to a scene in
the Oscar winning motion picture:
Forrest Gump;
when a legless Lieutenant Dan
makes peace with God (for taking his legs),
and backstrokes with the same carefree beauty
into a pink and orange sunrise
(funny how the mind does that).
And suddenly the bubble of beauty is burst.
The portly swimmer becomes just that
(FYI: legs intact),
and my wife returns from the buffet
with a plate of vibrant fruit segments; Cheshire melon
and the greenest kiwi I’ve ever seen.
Lo! Only now have I tasted true kiwi.
And I remember: I’m on honeymoon!
And my wife, in this moment, and forever more,
shall be the only human to be known as:
The Most Beautiful Thing On Earth.
Similar to the way Forrest felt about Jenny,
in the Oscar winning motion picture:
Forrest Gump.
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 5:26 PM UTC
he fishes in the pond along the broad abroad
reeling in the glistening skin of fight and splish !
a twitch of atheist, in a rainbow foxhole
pleading to invisible wire
he prayed would
hit.
when Life imitates Art
the Irony
is Photoshop.
Oct 14, 2011
Oct 14, 2011 at 11:22 PM UTC
Splish Splash with Tired arms
Inhale Exhale with Tired breath
Yell and Argue with Tired coach
Whine and Complain with Tired swimmers
Loud Static from a Tired radio
Bubble and Pour from a Tired coffee ***
At the pool,
sound became music, and music
a Tired cane for them to rest their weary limbs
Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 10:01 AM UTC