Choke Up Poems | Examples

Flowers Rain Shadows

                               flowers
                        choke up water,
                   the petals that drop flat
                rain quits my photosynthesis — 
            I believe only glasses with bouquets,
            my tears camouflaged by right stems,
                     they run in my faucet — 
                    ~ rain bolted, ~ leaves,
                               flowers

The Block

When I imagined what it would
be like to be a writer, 
I saw myself hunched over a 
typewriter with bourbon on the
rocks sweating a ring onto my desk. 

I could smell the ink on my fingers 
and feel the burn of alcohol in my gut
and hear the keys clapping, a standing ovation
for the poor sad boy who wrote wings onto 
his back and flew away from the red mud county.

But it's quiet here. 

I sit alone at my desk and I reach into my guts 
and I grab fistfuls of blood and viscera
and the keys don't move
I choke up the rage my father left in me 
and the keys don't move
I cut out the fear my mother so lovingly placed 
and the keys don't move 
I drag out every black eye, bloody nose, and split lip I ever earned, every fight I lost, every single argument I had, every sunset I was a brother beneath, every truck cab I ever fell in love in and
 
THE KEYS DO NOT MOVE

Accepting Eternity

Mental alerts send shocking images,
Of an hourglass void of it's sand.
I glance down at my watch in confusion,
And see it's missing every hand.

Realization begins to dawn on me,
And I stagger under vicious blows.
I wonder if time is in suspension,
As my soul prepares for repose.

Internally it's an obvious struggle,
Some things  cannot be forgiven.
The amends I've made don't compare,
To all the pain that keeps me driven.

Time now seems to be so obsolete,
I can't comprehend if I ever woke up.
A broken mind in a broken sleep,
I frequently wake and often choke up.

My faith leads to certain questions,
I want to ask this one specific vermin.
Instead I prayed that Jesus answer,
And I heard His voice within a sermon.

"The time is now my son, come along,
For you, I prepared a special place.
Let me wash your feet and serve you,
And accept My Father's loving Grace."

Then I saw that hourglass as it is,
And I picked up the closest limb.
I swung on that metaphoric glass,
And the loudest cheer I heard was Him.

Hollywood's Golden Years

Ah! The Golden Years of Hollywood
And those old black and white movies
Some were cinematic disasters
But some you could call quite groovy

Even now, my heart skips a beat
When one appears on the late night screen
I choke up a bit seeing John Wayne
As he swaggers in and out of the scene

Today with its technology and trickery
We don't know if people are real
Or made up computer animation dudes
To me, it seems way too surreal

Take me back to the Spaghetti Westerns
The gangster films of Cagney and Bogart
The Three Stooges, Abbott and Costello
Loved them all, that was cinematic art

The stunning sensuality of Ingrid Bergman
The glamour of a young Elizabeth Taylor
The bombshell beauty of Marilyn Monroe
Bardot, Betty Grable and more

The newsreels, the cartoons, the travelogues
And the giant blockbusters of the time
Sure was a lot for twenty-five cents
Plus popcorn and a drink for a dime

Ah! The Golden Years of Hollywood
Great musicals like “Singing In The Rain”
“An American In Paris” with Gene Kelly
Sure wish I could go back there again

Hollywood's Golden Years

Ah! The Golden Years of Hollywood
And those old black and white movies
Some were cinematic disasters
But some you could call quite groovy

Even now, my heart skips a beat
When one appears on the late night screen
I choke up a bit seeing John Wayne
As he swaggers in and out of the scene

Today with its technology and trickery
We don't know if people are real
Or made up computer animation dudes
To me, it seems way too surreal

Take me back to the Spaghetti Westerns
The gangster films of Cagney and Bogart
The newsreel of the day plus a cartoon
Loved them all, that was cinematic art

The stunning sensuality of Ingrid Bergman
The glamour of a young Liz Taylor
The bombshell beauty of Marilyn Monroe
Bardot, Betty Grable and more

The newsreels, the cartoons, the travelogues
The giant blockbusters of the time
Sure was a lot for twenty-five cents
Plus popcorn and a drink for a dime

Ah! The Golden Years of Hollywood
Great musicals like “Singing In The Rain”
“An American In Paris” with Gene Kelly
Sure wish I could go back there again

Crushing

Hey boy, I’m crushing on you;
Why is that so hard to admit to?

You once said you were under my skin,
I guess it’s time to tell you I’ve fallen;

I hear your voice when I’m all alone 
2 am wanting to grab you through the phone; 

Wishing I could roll over and get a hug,
when I’m with you it’s never enough;

All night long, silently calling your name,
my heart my dreams have no shame;

Looking in your eyes is a punch in the gut,
ambivalence is a painful choke up; 

I was wrong to look backward at a fire
When I see you? Pure desire.

Hey boy, I can’t stop crushing on you;
You knock the wind out of me
when you walk in the room.

Contest: I’m Crushing on You
Date: 4/7/19
Sponsor:  Julie Leigh Rodeheaver

Miss Understood

I hesitated
Sorry I brought up the subject
I choke up
But he insisted
So I blurted it out
In the end I bared it all
He listened
He said he understood
And sympathized
I didn’t buy it but
It felt good to tell him
The weight off my shoulders



AP: 3rd place 2022

Posted on March 8, 2019

Sweet Seashell Queen

sweet seashell queen
just had surgery to remove a tumor off her brain stem
today she celebrates her 6th BirthDay
whatever she wants is the law of our world
i almost choke up thinking about how brave she was
hell, she gave me hope, encouragement, and inspiration
i tell her she can go in the water....but not too far
she replies by saying, 'i am on vacation when i am by your side'
she then puts the most beautiful seashells in my hand and rests her head in my lap
we listen to the waves for hours
she falls asleep....and i fall even more in love with this amazing little girl
when she wakes up, she asks if we could go and get the blue bubble gum ice cream
i remind her that it is her day and that she is the sweet seashell queen
she put the seashell crown i surprised her with just before we headed out back on 
with a snaggletooth smile she says with her head slightly tilted to the right 'OH YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!'

Ineptness Ineptitude

Ineptness / Ineptitude

The pen has become the tongue from which I speak.
Ink, the saliva, the driving force behind my words.

Paper, the wings upon which they take flight,
uplifting my thoughts, elevating my ideas.

Thoughts and ideas that might not have
– ever come out of my mouth – seen the light of day.

Grounded !, nothing taking wing, a voice that does not sing,
never expressing a thing, with any kind of proficiency,

clarity, depth of understanding, enlightenment of meaning,
as I stand before ?, choke up !, all coming to a screeching halt

– my train of thought, my boxcar of words end with the caboose.
All gets lost, before the moment lives, my death !!!

The death of all I set out to accomplish, but never doing.
This, my tribunal ???:

B. J. “A” 2
February 25th 2004

Hollywood's Golden Years

Ah! The Golden Years of Hollywood
And those old black and white movies
Some were cinematic disasters
But some you could call quite groovy

Even now, my heart skips a beat
When one appears on the late night screen
I choke up a bit seeing John Wayne
As he swaggers in and out of the scene

Today with its technology and trickery
We don't know if people are real
Or made up computer animation dudes
To me, it seems way too surreal

Take me back to the Spaghetti Westerns
The gangster films of Cagney and Bogart
The Three Stooges, Abbott and Costello
Loved them all, that was cinematic art

The stunning sensuality of Ingrid Bergman
The glamour of a young Liz Taylor
The bombshell beauty of Marilyn Monroe
Bardot, Betty Grable and more

The newsreels, the cartoons, the travelogues
And the giant blockbusters of the time
Sure was a lot for twenty-five cents
Plus popcorn and a drink for a dime

Ah! The Golden Years of Hollywood
Great musicals like “Singing In The Rain”
“An American In Paris” with Gene Kelly
Sure wish I could go back there again

© Jack Ellison 2014

Tick Tock

i look at the walls around me
bootleg-moonshine shadows dancing
a waltz atop nighttide's stage
yet i am empty of my own emotion
alone, covered in reflections of us.

i still smell your scent
linger in every deep breath
within this humid air
and i choke up another piece of me
as the hands of time rape me 
of all my colored thoughts
i now dream in black and white
in a room dressed the same.

the clock laughs in seconds
mocking raindrops on rooftops 
my eyes cry the same tune
over and over again
as time becomes my enemy

i can almost hear your footsteps
tracing the stairs, approaching me
they fill the voids within my heart,
momentarily, yet it beats no more for love
than the clock on the wall,
it's just there the same
tick tock, tick tock...

memories fade with night



Verse a Favoured form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand


Sandra Adams  9/11/13

The Inner-Most Thoughts of a Dandelion

I am a dandelion and my world is a big meadow.
I'm growing on a cliff-side, I like to live on the edge.
Just blooming away, soaking up the sunlight beaming at me.
Needing a purpose so I can be everything I was made to be.
I was handcrafted, not a mistake. 
I was placed on this earth, on the edge of this cliff to show others that I'm not afraid of heights.
To show all the people that ever put me down for being a weed,
That I was made for a reason.
Maybe to choke up plants, sure. But this weed has feelings too. 
The burrs on my stalk hold me down. These furry things, I don't know what to make of them.
I seem to grow more and more and I can't get them off of me. 
I'm trying to grow higher and higher but they're holding me down from my potential.
I see my fellow dandelions,
they're naked and happy.  
Nothing holding them down.
They keep telling me about this breeze. A strong wind to prick the burrs off their stalk. And then an idea comes to me. So now...
I'm just waiting for a strong breeze to come pick me up and cast away all my fears and worries that I call dandelion seeds.

The Silence Is Lulling

Numbness wraps itself around my beating internal organ, blood thickens to a high viscoscious pulp, lungs choke up, air becomes a luxury, I am brought to my knees with a sickening thud I fall to my side defeated I let out a last gasp for air the world turns upside down I see darkness I feel my thoughts quieting my body motionless on the cold, Grey pavement I admire its cracks running along itself and thank it for allowing it to me by resting place i feel the light within me dimming and all is silent at last

Love Is Not Enough

When I first met you,
my hope and aspirations rekindle
as I approached you,
my heart went into captivity,
which made my body to be full of activity,
your soothing voice was reassuring,
which made me feel more alluring,
then later my aspiration and dreams
varnished like a mirage in the desert.

I dropped all, so as to remain viable,
yet,I was rejected to be accepted,
I tried to remove this great tumor,
yet it lingers,it lingers like weeds
that choke up the young plant in a vine
Even though it is mundane,
which has not been ordained,
I still love you,
but love is not enough.

I closed my eyes to wake up
to see a new damsel,
but the old one persists like  an epiphyte,
The feeling is great,
the emotion is intoxicating,
Yet,this enigma remains with a stigma,
I am confused and bemused,
As my feeling is being abused,
Yet!,love is not enough.

Love As It Relates To Baseball

I stand on the plate with the sun in my eyes
the pitcher is ready, a fastball he flies
I swing just as hard as I possibly can
love says "strike one" as I try it again

I choke up on the bat, pull down on my bill
nodding my head, a new pitcher on the hill
it hurls past my chest, just missing my heart
love says "ball one" as the clock again starts

it's the seventh inning stretch, I need the relief
I brush off the dust, no way will I retreat
the coach saunters over, giving a pep talk
as the lines are redrawn on the infield with chalk

the board shows each tally, each inning not close
no intervention from heaven or its holy hosts
and I shut the book on yet, another losing season
I'll still play the game with faith in the reasons

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