still chasing what doesn’t feel real
something’s in me nobody can heal
trying to hold what isn’t mine
i’ll grow up somewhere, sometime
getting sick of messing around
maybe one day it’ll be found
they say it makes you lose your mind
i’ll meet love somewhere, sometime
i’m coming down, i’m losing steam
breathing in can be so mean
nothing to hear but my very own cry
i’ll break up somewhere, sometime
hate doing anything that i’ve been told
these blue days are getting old
shot down for a petty crime
i’ll bite the dust somewhere, sometime
Feel as tho' I'm going to the dogs
it's almost time to pop my clogs
kick the bucket chuck it in
call it a day take a spin
and shuffle off this mortal coil
be released from worldly troubles and toil
buy the farm and bite the dust
or cash in my chips if I must
when D-Day dawns (it's not that far)
a big bang send-off will be my last hurrah
but it's no joke
as should I croak
who will miss me
when I'm long-gone
for no matter where on earth I am
I don't fit in I don't belong
oh well easy come easy go
whether up in smoke or down below
I see that winter has now broken,
steam fills each word, as they are spoken.
Cold air seems to fill the room,
as the stuck in side, brings on its doom.
The land is now covered with snow, and ice,
to go outside, we better think twice.
Slipping and sliding, as we bite the dust,
landing so hard, our rumps we bust.
I haven’t built a snow man, or ridden a sled, in years,
I haven’t had a snow ball fight, being in good cheer.
Now I am old, but I still remember the good times you see,
they will always have their part with me.
Be careful of the snow thats yellow,
cause it belongs to another fellow.
I can still make snow angels,
while I’m flopping around,
might as well do something, instead of laying on the ground.
When I finally, get back up to my feet,
I take two steps, and myself I repeat.
I sure do make a lot of snow angels you see,
once I fall down, the rest is all left to me.
I’m a rebel who is quiet
No one cares about my job
You won’t see me in the riot
Or among the chanting mob
What’s the point of going crazy
For the wages of police
There’s no aim those rebels chasing
But to act on silly whims
We can watch it on the screen
Burning cars and broken glass
Rebels fleeing from the scene
Some are losing their masks
These are games the children play
Just a gushing of hormones
See them quickly run away
When they hear the siren song
There’s no use to file petitions
Rallies are a waste of time
Rebels' proud propositions
Are too old to work out fine
I’m engaged into the quiet
Little job I do for all
It’s not hard for you to try it
Rulers overdue to fall
They might not collapse today
But to think of it we must
Every minute of each day
Then we’ll see them bite the dust.
walking
with a purpose;
somewhere along
the rugged terrain of life
you stub your toe...
t i m b e r!
a hard face plant
the devil
on your shoulder
mocks you
forks his tongue into your ear...
"Bite the dust!"
yet you rise
to your nimble feet
without so much as a backward glance
you keep on
walking with faith...
10 feet tall.
Neither directed nor disciplined
Leading lives of looting and lust
Bullets rain down, they bite the dust
It doesn’t have to be this way...
Though without tribute to a higher ideal
Upon their tormented souls ~ demons prey
Another poem
That I wrote for my God
Bite the dust
Also I had written lots of poems
For my God
Yes today I had worked
Very hard writing poems
For my God
And also all my poems
Had bitten the dust
Now it is already getting late
And my body is sending signs
That is very tired
Now I will shut my computer of
It is time now to pray to God
A quick prayer
Before I go to sleep
Itchy bite, oh itchy bite
Swollen up and hot and red
I didn’t hear the awful whine
That fills me up with dread
Itchy bite, I’m twitchy bite
How I wish you’d go away
I’m wide awake at two am
Scratching under my duvet
Itchy bite, you b*tchy bite
Now you’ve made me cuss
I’ll find you mozzie, at dawn light
And make you bite the dust
Forced to bite the dust,
to us seems unjust
but think,
if we readjust
and flow of life trust,
we link
with God’s grace robust
feeling an upthrust:
bliss wink!
Desire is our chink,
so let’s doublethink
belief
before our next blink,
discarding that mink;
new leaf
we turn, love’s hue pink,
die’s cast, swim or sink,
oh chief!
Ego is joy’s thief,
so to get relief,
shed lust.
Marooned at fear’s reef,
that’s now our motif,
soul’s bust.
Oh worthy Khalif,
let us now be brief:
be just.
24-March-2023
Virelai
Like a flower that wilts,
Like a tower on stilts,
This life's just a vapour,
Bite the dust, time scraper,
Like the fall of Eden,
Like the call of Big Ben,
Time hurries rapidly,
Life scurries vapidly,
Like a wave that abates,
Like the grave that awaits,
The dew soon disappears,
Milky moon slowly clears,
Like a leaf decaying,
Like belief that's swaying,
Wax wings are temporal,
Good things ephemeral.
24th February 2023
For "Inspired by Robert Frost's Nothing Gold Can Stay" contest
Sponsor: JCB Brul
AMBIVALENT
The swallowing of a morsel can't be justified
If the stomach still hurts.
Scorpion– the shining demon,
who doesn't stop until it’s quashed
applauds as it was filled with goosebumps.
A dog with two tails–yet barks,
and they say the future of the unknown
Is seen by Accompaniment of tears with personal growth.
Yet– the flame went down through us.
Come rain or shine,
A new Renaissance needs to be found
To a land proposed with happiness
In a wide dark bush filled with bitter leaf.
Yeh! the old Renaissance
The assumed room temperature was hugged.
some bellied up while a few fell on the wrong side of the grass.
Who knows!
If I will bite the dust before then!
Time flies like an arrow
No money– yet parties flowed like never before
No Food– yet waste bins overflowed with food remnants
Nothing to write home about
But bittersweetness is to be remembered
Peace be unto us that made it,
To that decade we never thought we could overcome
Surely another mountain shall stand against an egg,
Enthralling to see the new resolution.
©Fawass Olalekan Adelabu
We bite the dust every morning,
spitting gray powder, like desperados.
Firebirds nosedive in forewarning,
perverting the trees into hell’s tornadoes.
We taste sooted smog on our tacky tongues,
dragging all our shadows of remorse.
Finding no habitat for our wheezing lungs,
we long for the rain’s fecund watercourse.
We find Death Valley spreading like a contagion,
and dodge parched patches, bruised and baked by sol.
So delirious our meandering, we know not our region,
our infernal night camps reek of cinder and wood coal.
We chant, not knowing the meaning of an arcane lyric,
unsure how to summon the recondite eidolon of Seth.
As city shells smolder, all chronic hearts await some mantic.
Surely hell will freeze over, so we wait with bated breath.
Grace in-pours, if in God we trust
The welcome mat is laid
Erst ego cravings bite the dust
Ascension ready made
As bliss pulsations race
We see God face to face
In endearing embrace
Open doors
Grace in-pours
27-August-2021
Quietus
The book says, people have no face and we have no eyes.
Yet we are expected to drive through.
Irony at its best.
The enemy at our gates, feeding onto our fear.
Either we fight till the end or bite the dust.
The garden of Eden flickering before my eyes.
Am I hallucinating ?
I have lost my innocence.
This world is messed up.
We are zombies tripping in the dark.
My dagger, pointing at your heart.
I can't see your hands.
Is this evanescence or am I intoxicated ?
My thoughts are disintegrating.
There is a hole in my brain.
A knife is struck at my back.
I am here, because you didn't kill me.
The pressure for survival is weighing down heavily.
I am hearing voices in my head.
The phone is ringing, maybe it's a gunshot or the archangel.
My senses are clouded.
Maybe death is deliverance.
Only time can tell, what the real deal is
if I am a Batman I will make all tinsel town guys bite the dust
August 30, 2020
Syllable count : 17
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Contest : If I Am A Super Heroine-Hero
Sponsor : JCB Burl
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.