"swooshes" poems
there's a lone seal swimming by the sea
hunting for silvers with heartless glee
a fish shy there, another one wiggling there
who really cares
for his table always set for one
darkness his day in the sun
still he takes to the rolling tides
lone, but ******* in his pride
one day his eyes pique a double look
as a mermaid pops out of his storybook
stunning as a little light filters in
as she swooshes by, waving her fins
she's a sparkled beauty from head to toe
her consonance and shine, lighting his mojo
growing hunger and his drive keep following her
on the ocean floor she shimmers
between the rocks she dances
one step she be in harmony to his glances
he drives a barked out calling
so raw and appalling
shivers crawling down her back
as he arf, arf's another attack
alarmed with his lack of renaissance
like she should be, she didn't offer a response
as she keeps shimmering past the rocks
racing, racing away from any further talk
broken, he retreats to his mind
the missing piece he'll never find
there's a lone mermaid swimming by the sea
and a lone seal barking of what could be
Logan Robertson
11/13/2017
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 7:13 PM UTC
Through her eyes I see her soul,
And the sadness when they roll,
Her nose as black as coal,
Though sweet as a baby foal,
She has teeth like broken china,
And a tongue like a pink recliner,
Her face like a piece of art,
That was crafted from the heart,
She has ears like paper origami,
That could hear a foreign tsunami,
Her neck forms an arch,
Like a piece of twisted larch,
Her brisket is as deep as the sea,
And holds the lock to my key,
Her legs like a vintage chair,
That walks with grace and care,
She has a body built for speed,
When running she takes the lead,
Her heart races like a lambaguini,
Although It might seem quite teeny,
Her muscles tense like a fierce stallion,
Like an athlete ready to win a medallion,
Her body is so aerodynamic,
When she runs she makes the wind panic,
Her tail swooshes from side to side,
As she holds her head in great pride,
Her coat as black as leather,
And as soft as a ducks feather,
It shimmers like a stream,
When the sun makes it gleam,
Her little dashes of white,
Are oh so pure and bright,
Never will I feel of despair,
Cause I know my best friend is there!!!
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 5:36 AM UTC
I anticipate that on some distant roof
there must be a man waving two distinct flags,
so as to direct the flock of birds flying above me. Crossing
his arms, the fabric folding and slipping against itself
in the wind, making a noise of snaps
and swooshes and billowing.
This thought suddenly makes my jacket
seem oversized; the sleeves feel lengthened,
drooping over my hands, as though
I were still a child at play,
putting on father's army jacket on Sunday morning
before church; him in a dress shirt
and black suspenders, shaving in front of the steamy
bathroom mirror.
And I notice that I can see my breath
as it escapes the sauna of my insides.
It disperses into the February air—
no man waving flags on a distant roof somewhere
to keep its molecules from scattering
in every direction.
Aug 9, 2010
Aug 9, 2010 at 12:05 AM UTC
millions of distant colorful exploding spider-legs dancing in the sky,
each appearing with an infestive sound,
infesting the whole city;
"snap"
"crssshh--hhh"
"bosh--hhh"
whiskey lingers as they fade into sparks and swooshes.
you're beside me,
people gather.
whistles, applause, brass instruments booming..
Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 8:18 PM UTC
In the whirlwind of thoughts I sway
Relenting to the endless swooshes
as it blows all hopes further away
Like a willow tree, I fade
In the ink, it finds semblance,
in roughness of the paper, love.
And so, the dirge becomes my song.
And dreams, its manifest.
In the tossing and turning,
and in the continuous ticking
Days find colour,
and dreams, its voice.
In so much storm
everything is lighter than air.
And, the walls fade away,
Into the whirlwind, I sway.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 9:17 AM UTC
The tip of the brush tickles the canvas
As it traces the outline of the illustrious
Wings. Followed by spindly antennae that almost
protrude from the white plane.
Bulbous eyes appear, starting with
one spherical ommatidia after another.
Then, an appendage in the like of
a purple passion vine twine stems from the head
of the envisioned creature.
The brush swooshes in the water
preparing for the most important
part of the masterpiece. Hues of blue begin
to form on a palette, one like the bright morning
sky—that will breathe life into the painting—
and another—the color of dusk—to add
the edge of reality.
Geometric shapes take form
in the wings for depth and texture,
like the odd shapes of rain drops on
a window after it rains. And then the
final touches, speckles of white on the outer
edges of the flying devices, faint
yet as noticeable as the petals of a dandelion
floating through the air.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
i just left work and i'm still in my uniform
all my best friends are here snappin' fingers like,
hey waitress get me a beer
but i'm not movin' for anyone
finally safe for the night
finally looking into familiar eyes
finally happy
it's ninety degrees and our thighs are stuck to blue leather
it's ninety degrees and our knees are melting into each other
he laughs a little & with a voice half buried in a smile he says,
"first come, first serve *************
prime real estate
he always gets it
the tan couch resting in a sea of dark blue
soft
worn in
with cloth for skin
later in the night this tiny room is at its max capacity
and here i am, passin the bottle on down to the friends
who are now sitting at my feet,
reading new lyrics off their cellphone's tiny screen
he's got a coffee mug balancing between his knees
half full and definitely cold
rustic black with red flowers growing up the side to meet the handle
the dark liquid swooshes around violently as he bangs the strings
on the guitar he's got propped up slightly in his lap
he's staring at me and then he starts to laugh,
all i have to say is
"you can walk home"
but we both know i can't sleep if i don't see him
stumble safely through his front door
i'll probably be slurring my words behind the steering wheel,
"i am so in love with all of my ******* friends,
the thought of leaving you all in the fall
makes my stomach hurt"
and he'll kiss me on the forehead & tell me to
... get some sleep
but he knows i won't
and he'll worry
until tomorrow
when we'll do it all again
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
The roses dance
The violets sway
The music plays
In her mind
As her heart keeps time
Tonight she dances
Dances with the moon and the stars
And the cool, soft breeze
Tonight she smiles
With flowers in her hair
A laugh, as soft as a flower petal
Escape her soft lips
Her hair shifts on her shoulders
As her red dress swooshes and sways
Tonight she is free
Tomorrow is yesterday
So tonight
She dances
With the moon and stars
Tonight she smiles
As the wind plays with her hair
Tonight she shares secrets
With Sandman himself
In a field of roses and violets
In a field of dreams
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 10:53 PM UTC
the dog, strains against
the leash, tied to the
no parking sign.
all, quivering white
and caramel fur
docked tail, ears up,
eyes bright and
searching, searching,
for his alpha love.
water bowl, full,
next to him,
ignored.
eyes firmly set,
to the grocery store
door,
quivering, wriggling,
animated, anticipation.
every time, the door
swooshes open,
a double yap.
"i am here.""i am here."
doggy devotion,
denied by food health regulations, master inside,
but i am here waiting,
still.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
I’m huddled up in the side of a bathroom stall
My friends are outside, breathing, leaving,
And I’m rocking like a lunatic.
I’m rocking like I belong in a psych ward, like my mind is definitely not okay
It is not okay.
In my pocket there is a pack of Advils
They rattle as a rock, they shake, their sound breaking the silence around
And the rattle
It feels like my head is filled with sand
It’s weight is too heavy on my shoulders
My stomach is clenching too intensely
My breath is pulsating
My wrists are itching for a scratch with a razor
And the pack of Advil rattles
And the pack of Advil rattles and cry grows up my throat
It chokes me, blocks away the air
And I shake
And the pack of Advil rattles
I hold the pack, the sound is deafening
I throw the pack down the bathroom window
It swooshes down
And then it’s silent
Then it’s the dead silence
Then the chocking gets intense
The beating gets extreme
The blood in my ears blocks everything else
My lips twitch
My body shivers
My blood pumps
And my neck itches for a blade
And suddenly,
The rattling of the Advil
Did not seem that bad
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 11:26 AM UTC
Wind rushing through the open windows
It's cold but I disregard the bite in the air
The moon is hardly peaking our from behind the snow frosted woods
I can hear the faint whistle as the wind swooshes my curtains
The stars are scattered across the sky
Pulling me into a mesmerizing view
I don't know the names of the stars
Or what they mean
I only see there beauty
And that's what holds me in this spell
Utterly flawless
Burning hot in the moonlit darkness
I was born to watch the night
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 10:51 PM UTC