Squelchy poems on Hello Poetry

Vincent S Coster Jan 2016

I saw them growing
In the damp squelchy soil
Soaked and sodden
With the rains that fell
Over winter
At first they shot out of
The ground
Green shoots unseen among
The green grass
But upwards they jutted
Reaching into the sky as much
As such things could
Exploding into blooms of yellow
Leaning over like bells
Ringing out in peals of colour
The joyous celebration we all
Waited for eagerly
Through the darkness of winter
"Spring is here at last- ah
Spring is here at last"

This poem was written today in tribute to the beautiful Welsh actress and TV presenter Rebecca Keatley, who has one of the coolest accents on TV.

#beauty #daffodils #springpoetry #rebeccakeatley

Edna Sweetlove May 2015

An UGLY Memory of UGLY Horror in the Love Stakes

When I think of that matchless night
with your hideous face on the pillow
your disgusting body spread eagled on my bed
unwashed and rancid like stale fish stew
I recall nothing but putrid filth
and how the memory lingers on
of your staggering halitosis flavours
filthy foulness oozing from broken teeth
and gum abscesses so deep no tongue could
fully probe them without coming through
the other side covered in warm pus
and you left in the morning
leaving my sheets looking like
a patchwork quilt of many colours
after having elegantly wolfed down
a huge bacon and egg fry-up
accompanied by loud squelchy farts
presaging a dump in your knickers
and you never even suggested
we should have another date
so that old story about the ugly ones
being grateful is a load of *****
but I can't be too fussy really
now I'm pushing eighty-eight.

#*** #****** #explicit

clxrion Jun 2013

Sunless

Two-meter corridor framed by encroaching ceiling,
grime-streaked bricks of once-white pillars on the right,
dim-lit concrete floor underfoot, distinctly squelchy,
lathered with a millimeter of mud and sweat.
Stifled night drafts stir, disturbed,
by the threat of insidious humidity.
On the left, faint whisperings of revelry
escape from the tangle of choking throes
of grinding, grey-grilled gates.

Simpleton Jan 2015

Come morning

In my cage
There are forests and jungles
I fly above electricity cables
And sit on mountain peaks
Yet a cage
   is a cage
                                 is a cage
These eyes soak in trapped people
But the mind will never forget
Paradise awaits with
Freedom not bound
By coins that stack to the sky
Following the sun
Traipsing after it from country to island
Dying to soak in its light
Drab bedsits
Mundane days
Months
And before you know it
       Years gone by
Mouldy rugs and numb fingers
They watch their breath cloud the air
Wistfully sigh and stroke patterns in
Condensed windows
Rusty metal
Squelchy mud
In a world of wants
Look what happens to
He who laughs a moment
Is accompanied with shadowing grief
He breaks the ocean in half
To be met
In a place where no one wants him
The temporary dwellers are
Reluctant to trust what the world has to offer
Come morning they must leave
In the end we will all leave

nivek Apr 1

squelchy parts of the brain

in the squelchy parts of the brain
lives a mind adverse to rain
but accepts its oh so necessary.

Max Hale Dec 2020

Winter walk

Silver birch and holly tree
Along the path I walk
Woodland curtain
Bringing cool elements to mind

Squelchy footprints and ice cold wind
Cutting through the trees
Silence of the woods brings peace
Except for the chatter of the crows

I see noone but imagine souls
Of long-gone folk not far away
Hiding, hiding
I quicken my step, yet the paths
Incline keeps my breathing steady but deep

My fingers start to numb in my gloves
A typical feeling as the temperature
Hits just above freezing

I shiver but maintain my step
Removing my gloves
Thrusting my hands
Deep into my pockets,

The light is failing now
Winter solstice only a week away
I feel alone yet strangely
The wood seems full of people.

My imagination running wild.
Turning back as the path ends I realise
How the sunlight has gone
Twilight wraps its grey fingers around me.

Alan S Jeeves Jun 2020

The Cooling Cloudburst

As lightning brights the meadow
And thunder dulls the air;
I feel it still,
A stormy chill,
An aura everywhere.

I wander o'er the pathway
And paddle through the rain;
My bootheels squash
The squelchy wash
Along the puddled lane.

My face refreshed with teardrops
The clouds have wept from high;
They gently wet
My face and yet
They barely seem to cry.

I dance on midst the moisture
The hail sends down to earth;
I sense the beat
Beneath my feet
And sing for all I'm worth.

But when the fulgid sunlight
Warms the land once more;
I'm home to you
As I step through
A rainbow's archwayed door.

ASJ

#nature #rain #clouds #peace

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