Written by: Vaquero Waddie
----------------------------------------------
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth
when you're chomping at the bit
the Withers of a horse is used
to measure height
Straight from the horse's mouth
believe what he say's
don't fail to wear your Halter
in your certain disipline
find yourself a true lover
one you call your freind
Backing the wrong horse
will have ya'll airing out ya'll's lungs
I could have told you she didn't
want all that kissy stuff
tire of you before
it was over
cause she plumb had enough
a great relationship
has it all
walk trot and cantar
slow when you need it slow
fast when it needs ah-cantar
you'll know when it's right
a smooth steady pace
I reckon all things like this
it the same all over the place
There are fingers that pick daydreams
along the banks of this blue electric river.
Eels swim with it’s black-magic ballads
attaching a powerful charge to the swell.
Along the banks of this blue electric river
bullfrogs and alligators provide a drum.
Attaching a powerful charge to the swell
the luminous melody gains its fine edge.
Bullfrogs and alligators provide a drum
chomping at the bit for the celestial.
The luminous melody gains its fine edge
as the intention gains traction to build.
Chomping at the bit for the celestial,
you’ll do almost anything to wield it.
As the intention gains traction to build
mountains of stars swirl into a funnel.
You’ll do almost anything to wield it,
eels swim with it’s black-magic ballads.
Mountains of stars swirl into a funnel.
there are fingers that pick daydreams.
They crowd around their leader
unqualified, unfit
Vying for some action
all chomping at the bit
They’ve given-up democracy
their morals are all gone
Instead they honor Donald Trump
a two-bit, traitor con
They don’t want an America
with those who aren’t White
They’d rather burn it to the ground
and threaten that they might
They’re homophobic bigots
and condemn those who are trans
Scared of life, scared of love
they punish them with bans
Like preachers, they quote scripture
hang crosses from their chains
But then deport small children
far away, alone, on planes
The MAGA base is poisoned
hating all that’s not the same
Then praise an unfit moron
who’s a fool and has no shame
We won’t give-up our freedom
our vote, or right to talk
Together, we will march as one
resist, and walk the walk
Pleased as punch this mother quite proud
Flips up her tail and neighing so loud
Her gait so lively, her head held high
A bright young mama, 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 time to shine
You say you’re waitin’ on that beer
Well, they got one girl workin’ here
So go have a chip and some dip
Just relax, she’ll be bringing
You say your gin and tonic’s late
It seems that you’ll just have to wait
She’s been running around like a clown
Just sit back, keep on singing
And if you don’t want her to quit
Now stop your chomping at the bit
You see, the situation’s clear
They just got one girl workin’ here
Achoo, Achoo
Miracle Man
9/7/2024
I rise each morning chomping at the bit,
because allergies are giving me a near fit.
As I blow, and I sneeze,
I breathe with a wheeze,
I’m glad it’s nothing that I can transmit.
DRIVEN INTO MADNESS—The ELD
(Psychological impact of the Electronic logging Device)
Here I sit,
feeling like I will go insane –
Time has become a prison,
the clock is a ball and chain,
I’m wide awake –
and I need to go!
But as I watch the clock,
it still says, “NO!”
I’m being driven into madness,
without moving from this place;
Chomping at the bit,
I need to start this race!
Since people are not robots,
can clocks make driving safer?
Are ELD’s also defective,
because they are working against human nature?
My aunt was chomping at the bit to read my poems
I was not enthusiastic about it because some were about her
And not terribly flattering
She would not let up so I finally shared my site and my pen name
I held my breath as I watched her land at the one that was all her
Oh, I despise these kinds of people she said.
Vindicated through her non-recognition of herself,
I gave a loud low sigh of relief.
Oiled and polished tack
golden coat, white mane
16 hands of raw energy
freshly groomed
chomping at the bit
snorting in anticipation
snow falling lightly
reins firmly in hand
slow canter across
snow blanketed field
steam rising from
my powerful steed
hawks circle overhead
red fox watches
absolute peace
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.)
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
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
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
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)
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.