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Chomping At The Bit
by Ellison, Jack
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The Best Chomping At The Bit Poems
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Chomping At The Bit Poem
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now that Chavez is dead,
the american oil companies
chomping at the bit
begin to salivate & lick their lips,
seething
with the foam
of potent country-gutting
rabies---
for while he was alive,
Venezuela was one of the only
countries left,
who resisted the empire’s attempts to
penetrate it & whore it out to the
highest capitalist bidder---
with Chavez dead,
not only will the oil soon be drained from
within the borders of beautiful
Venezuela,
but so will die the social programs that Chavez
instilled,
those that had been used to combat the
extreme poverty which exists in the country,
those that the governments before Chavez did nothing to
prevent.
so goes Chavez,
so goes a bastion of anti-empire,
so goes a man who pushed Chomsky’s work at the
United Nations,
so goes a man who championed the bloc that
would resist the swallowing up of
Latin America by the
empire.
yes,
the vultures are hungry,
they are perched & ready---
rather than create green alternatives to the
reliance on oil,
they will suck every last drop &
make the world do their bidding,
creating a negative media firestorm
to shed hate upon a man who can no longer
defend himself,
just as they will the next who steps up to resist.
Copyright © andrew delapruch | Year Posted 2013
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Chomping At The Bit Poem
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Oh the things I could have said
During the heat of our wrangle
I kept tact and class instead
Of controlling every angle
For every grenade you threw
I had two more on my belt
I chose to let yours accrue
Just to see how you felt
I took the high road
To say the very least
I could have leavened my load
Your humility, my feast
Instead I kept picking up
The insults that you threw down
Refilling the cup
You would spill on the ground
Hours you must have dedicated
Digging for bones in my closet
You must have left so frustrated
From chomping at the bit
I imagine a jarring epiphany
Leaving empty handed
A truly tearful symphony
Not the way you planned it
Quarreling with a nun
Produced no satisfaction
When your rant was done
You lacked my reaction
Surly you know what I left out
The words to fill in the blanks
The severity of stupidity so very stout
You will walk your plank
Copyright © Anna Hopper | Year Posted 2015
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Chomping At The Bit Poem
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My wooden dappled rocking horse
Chomping at the bit
Eyes deranged with fearsome fire
Does make my stomach flit
And whilst we race
At perfect pace
Within the purple yonder
No time to sit on laurels dear
Blow dandelions nor ponder
In hot pursuit
And silver soup
Carrots golden tempt refined
Forgetting where from whence they came
(So pitifully mined)
Past burnt glades
And auburn maids
All leaning at the fence
Smiling cheering so enthusiastic
Glorious pretence
The finish line is not yet raised
Nor shall it be
If ever
So I'll just smile and veer off course
And stroke a peacock feather
For in it's eye
Down to it's base
Generous shades to bring a smile
Hues of horizons past and fore
To relish for a while
Once I de board my rocking horse
And accept what is my fate
Mushy peas and stodgy pie
Upon a paper plate
My cloche has stains
Yet it remains
Firmly on my head
Whist ladybirds move in deceived
As they are born and bread
A spotted array
On golden hay
Smiles at nought at all
Just tinkers on dreams of better things
Wishing....
That is all
(please note the rocking horse represents my sense of urgency when i was younger to achieve something... anything)
Copyright © Karen Deeks | Year Posted 2012
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Chomping At The Bit Poem
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.After Bill left the station, he made a pit stop down to the local diner, parked his car and
hurried in to get some much needed chow.
“ What’s up stranger? Haven’t seen your lanky frame in this fine dining establishment in
forever” she said saracastically as she poured him a cup of old left over breakfast
coffee. “Made this pot special just for you Bill, after I saw you crossing the street to come
in here.”
“Sure you did, Nette. I can tell by the grounds floating on top. I missed you too, he
grinned.
“I take it you had a good trip…welcome back cowboy .You want the usual steak and
eggs?” She didn’t wait for his answer as she wrote something on the order pad, spun around
and hollered out to the kitchen. “Dead cow..rare and chicken innards Charlie!”
“You always make that sound so appetizing, Nette.” She smiled her welcome at him and
headed off to grab another order. ” I’m comin’, I’m comin’, I ain’t your mother, ya know!
Bill chowed down, left a tip and drove to the police horse stables to see his patrol partner.
When he got there Gail, one of the stable grooms had Redneck on the cross ties lavishing
him with attention that could only be given by someone who was dedicated to these trusty
warm bloods. Redneck pricked his ears forward and whinnied a greeting to Bill before Gail
knew he was there.
“Hello Redneck ole buddy! What would you do without Gail spoiling the heck out of you
here?” Bill scrubbed his forelock and patted his chest while thanking Gail for taking care of
him while Bill was away.
“ No problem Bill. Glad to do it. You know that. He’s my buddy too you know. Glad to see
you’re back.” They exchanged pleasantries and Bill headed back to his apartment to get a
some much needed rest.
The next morning found Bill refreshed and chomping at the bit to get the scoop on
Brick’s mystery murder case. He decided to give Brick a call early before he headed out. (
To be cont. on Richard Pickett site "the team up")
Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne | Year Posted 2010
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Chomping At The Bit Poem
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uncle sam took a moment to sit down
at the diner counter & shove a couple more
doughnuts down his gullet,
but don’t you worry,
now that Kofi Annan has thrown in the towel,
the big ****ing bully of the world
is gonna get its way again---
this time,
Sec. Clinton will no doubt come rumbling out
bantering on about how Putin is the closest thing to
the christian imaginary boogeyman
whose name is just as long as his &
ends in the same letter
&
what we have here is yet another demonstration
of all-out-aggression-to-be,
brought to you on your screens
courtesy of the world’s
bully
&
those who fear him (buddies)---
everybody will be
ganging up on a country that exists in the region near
Iran,
that last strong holdout who refuses to get down on
its knees &
suck off america,
giving them whatever they want &
allowing them to rape all the natural resources &
bring “democracy”
which has failed at home on the domestic front &
so it will fail everywhere that the US demands it
to be, so that the US can get what they want
from everyone on this earth.
with bat*********ing crazy Netanyahu
trying to intimidate mister hope & change
by sallying up with the white/rich/racist/mormon/moron
(whose most recent remarks about Palestinian culture
should give the people left in the belly of the beast
who still believe in this failed & corrupt political system
a little taste of what he will bring to the table
if you don’t walk, talk, look like & think like
he does),
and all the warmongers on the Security Council (minus
Mr. Putin & co.) chomping at the bit,
happy that all the support they’ve given to the rebels in
Syria, made it so that Annan’s peace plan could never even
be attempted,
now there will be two fresh new conflicts
to drain the taxpayers in the US
of any money they have left!
the only questions left will be
when will Israel strike Iran?
(will it be before or after November?)
when will the empire send support to help
Israel fight Iran?
when will the empire send support to
remove Assad from his country so that
“democracy” can be brought to the Syrian
people?
and so we wait,
running the hamster wheel to make enough
scratch to get angry at the screen,
a few minutes before falling
asleep exhausted or
getting back on the wheel to
do it all over again,
hoping we don’t get hurt (no health care) &
hoping tomorrow comes
before these psychopaths who run things
drive our species into
extinction.
Copyright © andrew delapruch | Year Posted 2012
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Chomping At The Bit Poem
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Pleased as punch
This mother quite proud
Flips up her tail
Neighing out loud
Her gait so lively
Her head held high
This bright young fella
Once a gleam in her eye
Unbridled spirit
Feeling so grand
The spitting image
Of his dear old man
Romping through fields
Free of reins
Thundering hoofs
Flying mane
A frisky young colt
Like dad in his day
Who was quite a stud
They were heard to say
Then back to the barn
When day is done
This spirited young colt
Was born to run
Resting for a while
Batteries recharged
Chomping at the bit
A spirit so large
Such unbridled youth
Exuberance defined
This pesky young colt
It's his moment to shine
©Jack Ellison 2012
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2012
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Chomping At The Bit Poem
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I just came back but He called me once again
There's a job to be done and I am not quite finished
The people of Israel need to be alerted that their King is on His way
The Lord has called me to pack up my suitcases and bring a comfortable pair of shoes
The message is simple
The hour is late
The nation of Israel is on its final countdown
According to the Throne Room of God there is no debate
I must tell them all---Jews, Agnostics, Muslims, Existentialists
The Messiah is on his way!
The Lord is not gonna allow His people to be deceived
He will allow us to do signs and wonders in His Mighty Name
Just to pique their curiosity
Perhaps the signs and wonders will get them to change their faith
Many were converted when Jesus walked the earth doing His healing ministry
It's a matter of time til we see how they will respond
Pray for Peace in Jerusalem, peoples of the world
Pray for the sacred land of Israel
The Antichrist is chomping at the bit to set up his own throne there
He wants to declare that he is the king of the world
I will go and measure the outer courts of the temple
The gentiles will trample it for a span of time
The Antichrist will try to deceive many with his holographic images
The Army of the Lord will destroy his expensive toys
The God we serve will not be mocked or ridiculed
It's almost time to return to my new home
gwendolen rix
6-25-15
Copyright © Gwendolen Song | Year Posted 2015
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Chomping At The Bit Poem
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the sex is good
the company is better
the times they have bring new laughs that carry on into the rest of the day
the smiles they share are
brought into other aspects of their lives &
the ability to be jealous
isn’t supposed to be there
because everything is cool
man
everything is cool---
but when not together,
s/he is chomping at the bit,
****, s/he’d dowse her nails in fertilizer
if s/he thought she could grow them back faster
(just to bite them all off again),
nervous at the thought that at any moment
the other party
with which so much fun is being had
now, is banging away the night
with someone who very well could be better at sex &
even better company,
whose laughs might carry on even further into the week &
whose smiles might even be brighter---
then the thought that paralyzes
comes into focus,
that the last time they were together
could have been the last time they will ever be together
because the person that they are out with right now
could replace them &
the phone stares up at them
(but they can’t call, no that isn’t cool) &
the individual letter keys whisper
“text text text away”
(but they can’t do that either, not cool, not cool)---
so the wait throughout the day
seems worthless,
because if they had never met this other individual
this topsy-turvy
nightmare
would not be occurring---
so it eats & it eats & it eats at her/him,
that what s/he wants to be serious
has to stay on casual footing
because to try & push it any further
might just push away the other person
who is having fun with the way things are,
so they try to comfort themselves
making deals with their own psyche
that if the other person doesn’t commit at said date
that they will up & go,
to find someone that will.
Copyright © andrew delapruch | Year Posted 2012
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Chomping At The Bit Poem
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I met a friend in town the other day,
But I did not like the things he had to say.
I invited him to come and visit our little church,
He said it’s not for me I’ve been doing my own research.
He said they’re all alike they just lead you on,
He said they do not care, for I’ve been studying and I’ve been shown.
I said I think you’re wrong but you’ve got that right,
I said being a Christian is not always easy, especially when you step out of His light.
You’ve got the choice in what you believe,
But have you ever totally opened up your heart so you can receive?
He said you guys are all alike you don’t know when to quit,
I said it’s your soul that’s at stake but I could see him chomping at the bit.
I said I guess you’re right I just wanted to share,
My love for Jesus and let you know that some of us really do care.
He said well I’ll give it some thought and let you know,
Either way I planted that seed and with prayer I hope to watch it grow.
All it takes is a little faith to move that mountain standing there,
Jesus loves you so and it’s His kingdom in Heaven He’s wanting to share.
You know if I’m wrong what have I lost,
But if I’m right don’t you think it’s worth whatever the cost?
Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2008
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Chomping At The Bit Poem
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Gordon Ramsay decided to pay a visit to Mel's Diner.
When he criticized Mel's food, Mel gave him a shiner.
Now Mel wears an eyepatch because Ramsay jabbed him in the eye with a fork.
He hated Mel's beef and had to have his stomach pumped when he ate Mel's pork.
Ramsay didn't like the waitresses so he told Mel that they had to go.
After years of faithful service, Mel fired Alice, Vera and Flo.
Flo was so angry that she was chomping at the bit.
She told Mel and Gordon Ramsay to kiss her grits.
Ramsay finally had to give up on Mel because his food is so terrible.
Ramsay's job is to help restaurants but he can't perform miracles.
(This poem was inspired by the 'Alice' TV show.)
Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2018
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Chomping At The Bit Poem
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Quarter of six, ain't no one here cept a few lunatics
Me and a couple of scrumptious fillies really quite fit
Boobies mammoth size
Inviting slender thighs
Gotta stop, I'm trembling and chomping at the bit
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2017
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Chomping At The Bit Poem
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...Ideally Primed To Write...
Fallow wing on figurative
awk kill lees heal
of: "My on call (Uncle)
Muse Never Sleeps"-
which hoop fully
didst eat turn nilly app peal
ache'n to (tongue in cheek)
mucho yum zook
awesome guacamole tasting real
lee out of this world culinary steal
within the confectioner common weal.
-------------------------------------
Undoubtedly every aspiring,
and/or successful author
(from United States, the You
Kay and/or any other country)
doth gingerly woo
cerebral explosive starry eye burst,
and strives to hone on nest lee
maximize zing her/his writing,
yet keenly aware
unfettered near pristine view,
when her/his own das scribe able true
lee most opportune
critical (albeit figurative)
window of literary creativity
must needs be channelled
analogous to damning
a swollen river,
(albeit blitzkrieg brickbats
unstoppably pounding dog gone
ferociously, that doth spew)
to spill out unwedded, uncoupled,
and unbridled, essentially,
non groom matt tickly uncontrollably
(chomping at the bit) literary
flood tide of ideas
without pausing to edit, nor review
(bursting at the figurative seams),
despite futile attempt to
staunch, stave, stay,
et cetera over saturated figurative
sand bagged levee mal lined queue
stream of consciousness
with (oh brother) Grimm purview,
whereat, the palpable next great
winning gust American opus
doth appear as forsaken cause
unexpurgated (approximating
totally tubularly regurgitated pablum)
riddled with flaws
will presumably meet with editorial wrath
venomous unprintable thrashing
more vituperative than in-laws
subsequently ill fate receives
terse cancellation from Oprah's
Bookclub, where unstinting praise about
equates to a near
guarantee reversing bout
of dirt poor
poverty novel with clout
would book without
a shadow of a doubt
home ward James mull hoard
cuja (meaning this chap
forced to work graveyard shift)
pocketed a shining winner,
hence noel hunger need to flout,
a heavy schedule, whence tome
more row rockets red glare
will arc across cerulean sky inveritably
propelling overnight yesterday's
unknown schlepping scrivener lout
to top of New York Times
best seller list
with trumpeting huzzahs.
Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018