She Likes It Big & Loooong
she asked me
was it big:
(being the man that I am)
i said it was.
she asked me
was it long:
i said looong enough,
to satisfy her
plus two of her girl friends.
and if… she had any doubts
about it,
that she was welcome to
come to my house,
to see how large
it really was.
when she came over,
i dived right in it.
both of us
was totally satisfied-
back strokin’,
swimming in my
newly built…
swimming pool.
poem by Ronald Stroman
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Related quotes
I Am Going For A Swimm
I am going for
Swimm in God's
Swimming pool
And at the same time
I feel that I am being blessed by God
While I am swimming in his swimming pool
poem by Aldo Kraas
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I Go Swimming
Ooh, I go swimming, swimming in the water
Swimming in the river, swimming in the sea
I go swimming
I go swimming, swimming in the water
Swimming in the pool, swimming is cool
I go swimming
The sun is burning, I am yearning
For the waterflow (waterflow)
Next to my skin i, like to begin a
Waterflow (waterflow)
Letting off steam I float in a dream,
I cant let go (cant let go)
Follow my wishes, follow the fishes
Down below (down below)
I go swimming
I need water, water to drink
Water on my brain, water sustain,
Water over me
I want water, water I need
Water to think, water to drink
Water over me
The sun is burning, I am yearning
For the waterflow (waterflow)
Next to my skin i, like to begin a
Waterflow (waterflow)
Letting off steam I float in a dream,
I cant let go (cant let go)
Follow my wishes, follow the fishes
Down below (down below)
I go swimming
I go swimming, I go swimming
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
I go swimming, I go swimming
I go swimming, I go swimming
Swimming, I go swimming
Oh I go swimming, I go swimming
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marks of Sin
You waited for Fay
by the entrance
of the outdoor
swimming pool
in Bedlam Park
the Saturday afternoon sun
still strong
the voices and screams
of the kids in the pool
coming through
the high hedge
that surrounded all
around except where
the entrance was
with its turnstiles
and changing rooms
and wire boxes
where kids
kept their clothes
Pete Badham and his cronies
had gone by and in
a few minutes before
giving you the hard stare
which you returned
with equal share
you wondered if Fay's father
had stopped her going
finding some passage
in the Bible that he claimed
made it a sin
or maybe she had been kept in
for some misdemeanour
but then you saw her
coming through the park
in a blue dress
with a white towel
wrapped under an arm
thought you might not come
you said as she came
to the entrance
Mum let me come
after Daddy'd gone
off to work
she said
she opened a hand
to show the coins
held there
her eyes you noticed
were red
as if she'd been crying
glad you're here
you said
me too
she replied
and you both went in
each to the separate areas
for boys and girls
once you had changed
and put your clothes
in the wire box
you went out
to the pool
and dived in
the cool water
and waited for Fay
to come in
Dave Walker was there
at the deep end
keeping an eye
on Badham and his cronies
giving you the thumbs up
when Fay came out
she stood hesitant
on the edge
of the pool
dressed in her black
swimming costume
come on in
you called and waved
she climbed down
into the water
and swam towards you
her fair hair
darkened by the water
her legs flapping
behind her
as she swam
her hands pushing through
the water's skin
as she came to you
she put her arms
around your neck
her damp face
close to yours
you put your arms
around her waist
and she winced
and you let go
what's up?
you asked
nothing
she said
just a bruise
and she swam off
to the edge of the pool
and you followed her
and she pulled herself
onto the edge
and sat there
looking out
at the other kids swimming
you heaved yourself
onto the edge of the pool
beside her
she looked away
towards the high hedge
and you noticed
thin red marks
on her thigh
what's that?
you asked
pointing to her thigh
sign I have sinned
she whispered
Daddy said
to show the flesh
is a sin
and wouldn't let me come
and I answered him back
and he made the mark of
me having sinned
she stared at you
and touched your hand
say nothing to anyone
she said
promise?
ok
you said
let's go swim
she said
and dived in again
you seeing
the red marks
and sensing the pain.
poem by Terry Collett
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Filial affection
Filial Affection
I can hear her whimper in the night, I must get up
put my frogman suit on and go to her, she sits in
a cove dressed only in a sea weed jumper, there are
holes in her fishnet stocking; yes, you are right my
little daughter is a mermaid
It was July day long time ago when I met her mum,
the dolphin, a hopeless affair doomed to failure, but
did we try! The baby stayed in my swimming pool,
while her mother swam to the coast of Greenland
and feeding off the shrimps there
When my tiny girl became a teenager she went back
to her mother and they both swam to Greenland; and
I thought I should never see her again. Tired she sits
and waits for me. I must join her, in her world, now
that I sold my house with the swimming pool.
poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
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Halku - 85
on the swimming pool
----
slip unnecessary.
girl, is taking clothes off, now.
she has swimming cap.
poem by Maria Barbara Korynt
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Deceiving World.
Try to catch,
But couldn't catch,
Seen as small and big fish,
Then too strong for their hooks,
Swimming under the new city mall,
Swimming under silver bird gallery,
Swimming under the theatre gallery
Where it called to be situated,
In the island of Nigeria Africa.
Asked where is the world,
Deceiving world its means?
Answers in illusion and delusion,
Tried but hid in tenacious pretense,
pretense of long slavery,
Pretense in standard,
Pretense of self interest,
Pretense of wickedness,
Try to catch,
Too strong for the hooks,
Seen as small and big fish,
Swimming in the island,
Swimming under Museum center,
Swimming under cultured and tour-isms,
Where its called to be situated,
In the world of blacks and white,
In the island of Africa.
Asked where is the world,
Deceiving world its means?
ILLUSION, WICKEDNESS, GREED AND HATRED founds,
Appears answers for reality,
Reality of seconds, Movement, distractions, and player hitters,
Called and seen a deceiving world,
Asked where is the world of the deceits,
At levels of a canteen,
Deceiving world at classrooms,
Deceiving world world of movement,
Deceiving world of called percussionists,
Deceiving world indeed and not fiction called.
poem by Bunmi Orogun Samuel
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Concrete Girl
Bleeding thoughts.
Cracking boulder.
Don't fall over.
Fake your laughter.
Burn the tear.
Sing it louder.
Twist and shout.
Way up here,
We stand on shoulders,
Growing colder.
Laugh or cry.
I won't mind.
Sing it louder.
Twist and shout.
Immovable shadows.
The concrete girl.
They'll rock your world to nothing.
And they're swimming around again, again.
And they're swimming around
The concrete girl.
Catch your breath like a four-leaf clover.
Hand it over.
Scream to no one.
Take your time.
Sing it louder.
Twist and shout.
Nothing to run from is worse than something,
And all your fears of nothing.
And they're swimming around again, again.
And they're swimming around
The concrete girl.
Concrete girl, don't fall down
In this broken world around you.
Concrete girl, don't fall down.
Don't fall down, my concrete girl.
Don't stop thinking.
Don't stop feeling now.
One step away from where we were,
And one step back to nothing.
And we're standing on top of our hopes and fears,
And we're fighting for words now, concrete girl.
And we're swimming around again, again.
And we're swimming around now,
Concrete girl.
Concrete girl, don't fall down in this broken world around you.
Concrete girl, don't fall down.
Don't fall down, my concrete girl.
Concrete girl, don't fall down in this concrete world around you.
Concrete girl, don't fall down.
Don't break down, my concrete girl.
song performed by by Switchfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pool Of Blood
I was swimming.
Swimming in a pool of blood,
That wasn’t my own.
I realised it was your blood.
It was your blood and it was my fault.
I didn’t mean to.
I didn’t think.
It happened and I cant change it,
But I’m going to drown in it.
I deserve to drown in it.
Don’t I?
It was my fault and nothing will change that.
So I’ll stop swimming,
I’ll drown and everything will be right again.
Everything will be normal.
Except, neither of us will be in the world.
We’ll be in this pool of blood,
Together, forever.
So, I was swimming,
But now I’m not,
And I don’t know why?
poem by Rachel Brewer
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Life is this
Swimming is
Not excise...
Swimming is
Not hobby...
Swimming is
Not work...
Swimming is
Life...
Yes...
Swimming is
Life...
For all fishess....
Boat and ship
Without breath...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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She Walks Outside Away
Old,
old man walks up to a little\large girl, lolly pops.
Inside,
she walks inside
after the grandpa pa 'said' sympathetic attention,
natural spurts her growth.
Attention is paid to the mask and
grandpa pa, must ask.
Grand-daughter 'dear' it is hardly a mask.
Seen by 'I' many are 'cut's' and deep smiles and
the moon is pale and full, hardly alone, come here.
But Grandpa pa it is only one swimming pool
high are the sides, no one can see, inside.
With my 'trusting' friends from school.
A small swimming pool, why a worry my mask?
Thinking 'she'
who the old imbecile and must he think it is.
Fresh, clean and full and
with the articles of they attention to my, around it;
They a swimming pool my attention obtained.
I observes them swim near it, curiously they holds it
like it swims under the water they hold it by the thighs.
Above its eyes of rising its legs are widespread
with far its bathing suit can stretch aside her skin of Y
which fingers
of rising movement on side, 'oh' dear O 'dear'
which one so many inside.
I am her grandpa pa\daughter see which one is he'
to make Y her legs are distant and they goes up on
the surface except her\them/him legs it strikes with
them\her/him, behind him/her\them and strikes
deep blows with him/her below it in she'
of Such young people thus to know this, they look
by the mask they don't stay, off To long inside,
fifteen minutes or about thus enough of time of her/them
to amuse and glance fixes at it,
of lower part, one looks inside, she laughs, I am angry.
I am to old for this and
what can I do, she will hate me.I can no longer control her.
poem by Is It Poetry
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Wrong Girl
I'm eyeballing the wrong girl,
The noise and the splashes,
Of a local swimming pool,
So many people swimming,
But I'm not watching them-
I don't care who wins.
I'm looking at a girl,
An emotionally beautiful girl,
But wait…
All my life I've been told of the white wedding,
And two kid dream-
A handsome husband,
For whom I'll cook and clean…
Back to the real-
I long for the softness,
The sweetness only she can provide-
And the mock innocence of the act itself,
Mock- being the word,
And I can't help but wonder when I show the world I love her,
Will they see me truly for the love?
I show to her?
Or will they see the wrong- only what they wish to believe
Is it a wrong lifestyle that I wish to lead?
But still it can't be wrong of me to see her in this light-
When her hurricane-like eyes stare at me with perfection,
Sealing the deed with a hungry and soft kiss…
poem by Ally Gunther
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Misshaped Love.
You never talked about cowboys
or shootouts with Fay.
She was the girl
in the apartment above
who lived with her mum and dad
and younger brother.
You sat next to her
on the bus
your hands wanting to reach out
and touch hers.
You didn’t
but held them in check
like hounds ready
for the chase.
She was about your age
eleven or so
give or take a few months
and she had long blonde hair
which her mother
sometimes braided
sometimes not.
What do you do
in your spare time?
She asked.
Oh you know
play about
on the bombed out buildings
or bombsites
or go swimming
or play ball with friends
you said.
She nodded and looked away.
There was a bruise
on her neck
where her hair parted
and sometimes
when you put your hand
on her shoulder
she’d wince
and move away.
But not that day.
That day she let it stay
and even tapped
your hand with hers.
She turned around
and faced you
her eyes filled with tears
like flooded cities
the blue islands
of her pupils
seemingly swimming
against the tide.
We’re moving away
she said.
Where? You asked.
Somewhere far away.
Won’t see you anymore
she said.
The bus drew up
at your stop
and you got off
and the bus drove away
and you saw her hand
wave at the window.
You never saw her again
or heard how she did
in later years
or if her father still beat her
as Mother said he had.
Sometimes you still saw her
waving goodbye
in your dreams at night.
The bus going over the hill
and your heart pounding
with a misshaped
small boy love still.
poem by Terry Collett
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A Summer Day At The Swimming Pool
A summer day at the swimming pool,
Women in their bathing suits,
Bearing their forbidden fruits,
Water glistening like a jewel.
Lifeguards like the judges rule,
And won't hear your refutes,
Though children still all act the fool
On a summer day at the swimming pool.
poem by Joshua Dinkin
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Your mind's ocean
Swimming away
swimming away
swimming away yeah
swimming through the deep blue ocean
nothing but red skies ahead
so put on ya hat and sun screen lotion
operation over cooperation
go swimming in your mind's ocean
The water so still
and the wind in motion
i'll be up and alive
before i'm down and moping
wake up in the water
before you drown
i'll make you want to smile
with my speechless frown
so put on ya hat and sun screen lotion
operation over anticipation
go swimming in your mind's ocean
Thoughts of doom and no hope
I'll dropp them in the oceans deep
To save my eyes when i grope
Dead to the world in this cool sleep
Swimming away
Swimming away
we'll swim all night
And walk all day
so put on ya hat and sun screen lotion
operation over destination
Lets go swimming
Lets go Swimming
in your mind's ocean
poem by Allen Steble
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There Is A Swimming Pool In A Small Town (Orléans Rondel Prime)
There is a swimming pool in a small town
where water sparkles as blue as the sky,
where some bikini clad girls draw the eye,
with skin tanned to mahogany brown,
where from a diving board people dive down,
where time gets wings and quickly rushes by.
There is a swimming pool in a small town
where water sparkles as blue as the sky,
where a myriad of beautiful girls daily lie,
where the garden is somewhat overgrown
and children buy sweets, chips and pie,
while teens frolic until the sun does die.
There is a swimming pool in a small town
where water sparkles as blue as the sky.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Activities Day with Kim
List of activities for me and Kim to do,
We have it planned out with and sealed with glue.
I sleep at Kim's house and then we ride bikes,
riding down to McDonald's which we like,
to eat our scrambled eggs and toast with butter,
we are off to the tennis courts to run a flutter.
Then we go swimming at the high school,
we swim around in a large swimming pool.
Reading at library is our next place,
we read away before we our off to skate.
Yes, we go ice skating in the rink of ice,
Kim skates the best she takes lessons more than twice,
twice a week, now we are off again to a pond that's nice,
To capture butterflies, not little mice.
Then back to the mall to have an ice-cream cone
We are hot we need to cool our bones.
Then to a movie we try to fit that activity in,
It is fun I have to admit.
of course there's supper at McDonalds again.
That is my Activity's Day with my best friend Kim.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 28,2011
www.suzae.com www.christinapoems.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Between Bedposts
Swimming through a sea of brandy
I see no pending island
There is nothing beneath me
But unexcused regret
Over indulged in this illusion of truth
I'm swimming deeper and deeper
Into this ocean of fibs
Feelings are clouding reason
Built up inside of me is anger
With a reason unknown to even myself
I will bury it with you
I'll take it out on your deepest part
Clutching and breathing and sweating
I'm satisfied for now
My anger is satisfied
But it is also deepened
I will live to forget, to push aside
Until it can no longer be tamed
And I clutch onto your physical being again
No feelings except satisfaction
Eyes are closed
Mouths are connected
We are not one
We are only two of a kind
And thats what keeps this attraction
From moving anywhere
But between bedposts
poem by Brittaney Static
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Change
The other day I walked accross the street
i couldnt believe what I appeared to see...
as I looked at a poor boy who came to me
I asked him his name and he didnt know
he just asked me for change.
I asked where is your mum?
he just asked me for change
I asked where is your dad?
he just asked me for change
I asked will someone come?
he just asked me for change
I asked why are you sad?
with no response to my question there was a pause...
but then once again he asked me for change
see, as i watched him dissapear with his pain
I realised that he actualy asked me...
for a change.
poem by Daniel McCann
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The Corrupt Couple
at the dining table
they discuss how to finish
their big swimming pool
fronting their mansion
surrounded by a high
concrete perimeter fence
==================================== ================
sa talad kan-anan
naghisgot sila kon unsaon
nila paghuman ang
dakong swimming pool
sa atubangan sa
dako kaayo nilang
mansion nga
giaalad sa habog kaayo
nga konkretong labat
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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No Swimming Pool Or Tennis Court
A swimming pool and tennis court
for music, lyrics, Copeland thought
chez Brothers Gershwin, has to be
the way to go. I get no fee
for poetry, and have no mansion.
My home has much room for expansion,
and telling me my verse is gorgeous
won’t make my house as great as George’s.
In woods of Beverly this Gershon
is not like Hilly Gershwins’ version;
it’s far closer to a shul,
though I would not decline a pool
and tennis court in summertime,
when people think of Ira’s rhyme.
When Aaron Copeland visited the Gershwins in Beverly Hills, he was impressed by their tennis court and swimming pool, saying that he did not know that one could obtain either by writing music and lyrics.
10/1/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
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