Long Bathe Poems

Long Bathe Poems. Below are the most popular long Bathe by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bathe poems by poem length and keyword.


Eminem Protege 2

Eminem Protege 2

Don't care what you think
 I need Ten Shrinks an Ten Pens Full Of Ink
 To Let my Inner Wisdom Tink
 Colder Than Ten Penguins In A Rink
 My Spirit Fitness & Physique at it's Peak 
Adrenaline Obese 
Extinguished to Concrete
 Out the Pyramids Extinct 
Into this Physical Dimension as A Sphinx 
Face of a Beast of a Lynx
 Idiot Beliefs placing limited reach 
on my limitless fatigue 
My Old Image Obsolete
 I stole Potion from Ten Witches An Ten Wishes
 from Ten Genies an Ancient Magicians
 an Buried the lamps in the Ditches
 while I summoned Ten Fighting Spirits
 of Venegance as My Apprentices
 I Opened my Sealed Syllabus
 to Reveal my Ventriloquists 
Just left Hells Kitchen with Skin Itching 
with Skin Blisters open Skin Pigments
 Stealing Lucifers Instruments
 to Use them Against Him 
To appear as Glitches
 against the System
 I cook Hot Meals with Mittens 
an make him taste the Illness 
I'm Inventing
 But only an Sample for Interest
 for His Taste Senses
 cause Hells angels can Sensor the Sizzling
 I'm Fly like Ten Twin Pigeons
 with Eagles Precision
 I'm a Scientist but I ain't writing Science Fiction 
with Knowledge that would leave Einstein Winded
 I been Fighting for Living 
100 percent Percentage
 an no less than a Percent difference
 Still Power in my Engine
 to keep the Ignition Driven
 You can't Compare to these Rare Characteristics
 the Judgements from your Conscious 
is InTolerant to my Unresponsive
 Mental Doctrines 
Im use to Antagonist 
Real Hebrew who's a Zionist
 False Prophets who Diabolic an Jewish
 Judaism Created with Iron Fist
 in A Luciferian Science
 of Enlightenment 
Jewish Hybrids Of Pirates
 Stolen Israels Environment
 I ain't Racist
 Just apart of a Nation
 Created
Created Generations to Generations 
Heritage Invaded
 an Culture Undertaken
 Perpetrated
 by The Synagogue of Satanist 
my fire been Penetrated
 the fire in the eye of the Tiger formulated
 stripes on the tiger Blazing
 I'm Judahs Inspiration
 an Judas Envy Craving
 But I'm not Babylons Patriot
 Bablyonion Doom Waiting
 Doomsday
 when the Moon Change
 The Wolf Rage 
Waging Spiritual Shade
 against Ravenous Wolves in Sheeps Wools
 is Game
 Sharpened Tools 
my Sword is Shaped 
Cut open the Wolves
 an Bathe in the Pool 
of Blood til It's Drained 
I'm a Prophet in the Apocalypse


The Mystique of the Lady and the Unicorn

An invisible string was created from the beginning of time,
it is wound around my horn, and bound to your heart
Invincible.
Each time your heart beats, you tug at this string,
drawing me closer to you

You are unaware of this, I love you
yet I fear and resist you, dear Lady
Not only have you captivated me, but my fate is in your hands

I am the last Unicorn in existence

Kings and nobles desire me for my horn, 
for it can purify poisoned wells
and they know only you have power over me

Sweet virgin, all I ask is
one song  to enchant my ears
one glimpse of your precious smile
one kiss from your ruby lips 
one whiff from your perfumed dress
...a single stroke from your gentle hands

and I shall dream of you forever

Betray me not please by handing me to the men

Let me lay my horned head on your lap even just once…

then set me free


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You are Testing me my rear precious unicorn, 
every King has offered more than our beauty holds.
Unfold I will hide with you in a placed to protect us from every face.
Avoiding your poisonous horn, in which I fail to feed my soul with your purity.
I will move you from this revolution in which has troubled the monarchy.

Medieval strings of power to catch you~ your the last of your kind. 
My Unicorn you are the medicine, the symbol ones seeks to rule darkness.
With passion I hold a belief that your horn can heal illness, 
your strength will carry on.

Every time you returned to drink the waters of a no man's paradise,
I reach out to touch your radiance once a year.
Your horn can cure plague, rage, rabies, fever's and more!
Become my host let me wear you in this mystical amulet.
I will wear you as my jewelry while you lay your head on my lap.
My Unicorn of purity, I will never tell the ingredient and secrets we share,
as we got lost in each others stare.

I will ride with you and never betray your existence.
Together we will gather the fresh fruit and CORN~
My precious unicorn my virginity is your dignity.
Bathe with me throughout my immortal long and healthy life.
I'll sing you a song good night.

Ali-corn you are the weight in gold, all emperors, will fall at my feet.
One kiss with my red ruby  lips!

I "guarantee" you a gift only we both see.

"If you'll believe in me, I'll believe in you!"  



**a collaboration with pd ^_^!

Premium Member Sassy

She was alone in the pen at the end
visibly frighten
Shaking like a leaf
wanting reprieve
So young a volunteer stay by her side
If she could she would of cried
It was free adoption day
and the dogs knew they were on display
Barking loud and clear
someone take me out of here
But she so shy and scared
she seem to need so much love and care
The little dog spoke to my heart
so with her I did depart
Adopting her that day
she was bewilder and afraid
A friend  drove us home
I held her so precious to own
She cling to me so tight
Celeste her name seem right
Calm and peaceful and shy
With my two old boys would she survive
Finally at home we arrived

Ghengis waiting at the window was barking with joy
for his master was home such a happy boy
I placed her in a fence area and closed the screen door
I let my boys out and they were shocked and floored
What was this new dog and why is she here
I let them be together but the boys showed fear
She tried to sniff them but they ran away
I realized of her my old boys were afraid

I let her in the house and she began to run around
the scare little dog was nowhere to be found
Within five minutes she evolved from Celeste to Sassy girl
she was so overjoyed in her brand new world

I had to catch her and bathe and clean her good
Gave her a treat she was home understood
She ran and jumped for joy and with the boys tried to play
but each time the fat boys would run away
Now Kublia who wants to befriend every dog a stray
whenever they are at the fence between it they do play
They bark and run along it, sniff and wag their tails
but with little Sassy Kublia heads for the hills
And mighty little Ghengis with anger always on display
with his new sister Sassy he shys away
It was so wonderful for Sassy to come out of her shell
I thought it would be weeks employing all my skills

She slept with me that night laying next to my side
the boys fled under the bed stayed there to  hide
Sometimes she softly whimpers as the boys run away
It will take time before the old boys get comfortable enough to play
We were three bachelors living in our house alone
now we have our Sassy girl to make it a home
She is sweet and funny and has energy all day
Lively and cute she's in my heart to stay
My new big puppy is our Sassy girl
upside down she playfully has turned our world.
Form: Rhyme

I Can Never Comply With Fastidious Hygiene

I can never comply with fastidious hygiene

Try as thee most persuasive person might,
he/him, she/her,
they, them... can never wean
yours truly always objected
being told when to bathe/shower
particularly when puberty
found yours truly a tween
and my mother (deceased eighteen
plus years - sess her bowl),
she exerted authority

and told her "take a bath,
or no supper"
analogous to a queen,
strict disciplinarian to boot
who wedded her king
(my late father) at age nineteen
the latter (day saint) quite keen
nevertheless both experienced
love towards each other
and tricked out their progeny

(myself included) with halloween
getup, I vaguely recall Amelie Beth
(their eldest daughter -
older sister of mine)
donned as an angel
lighting up night sky, an empyrean
permanent heavenly fixture
popular through Byzantine
epoch, which blinded
her brother (me),
cuz yours truly, the devil in disguise.

Here I sit scores of decades
now edging closer to the edge of night,
and approaching those twilight years
remembering protesting vehemently
(way past the bewitching hour)
not wanting to wash myself
in the tub (water frigid cold), I write
how mother dearest,
whose presence I wanted to smite

this puny progeny
grappling as a neophyte
whose Lilliputian stature
(when a prepubescent)
a over five feet in height
who when constantly
teased courtesy bullies
ran back to ma mommy
whose son totally affright.
If employed in social services field, why
the above might justifiably
smack of insubordination
hashtagging me as Pigpen thereby
wharf fare prompting me
to cleanse myself diving off a Quai
in an effort for Peanuts gallery
to accept yours truly well nigh
but unfortunately
getting mistakenly captured
as a prisoner of war

forced by Japanese to construct
two parallel bridges spanning
the river Kwai
as part of Burma Railway,
also called the Death Railway,
for the many lives
lost in its construction,
but my daring do,
(and boyish good looks)
found yours truly
whisked away to the island of Hawaii,

where hula dancers  
choreographed, entranced, and finessed
their seductive routines
a native lass smitten courtesy 
one wily word wizard
whose courage bucked up
after munching powder milk biscuits
taken as mistress 
helped beget our daughter, 
who became apple of mine eye.
Form: Rhyme

To You, Tainan-I

In the beginning it was just a smell 
a smell i could not quite make sense of
a smell that the city was, a smell that the people in it were

in the beginning it was just a smell
a smell that dragged swarms of people of their homes
onto the streets, into the trains, into the strangers’ eyes and their uncharted territories 

slowly i realised 
all cities are, first, smells to the outsiders 
and Tainan was smell sound taste touch to me

there were moments when i felt
this city is just people, so many of them; how beautiful 
that i do not know any of them, yet i know them all

sometimes i would think if i emptied the city of all these countless faces 
and bodies jostling with each other, what would remain of the city? would it still beat if i put my ears into the hearts of the depeopled Shennong Street
at the dead of night?

i came to Taiwan for the same reason
that a Vietnamese, an Indonesian, or an American comes for,
to chase my dreams, to become more of me,

instead I became it

it wasn’t as easy and quick as they make it out to be; 
it took time, for love has its own mysterious ways 

i started to embrace Taiwan and its culture
huge numbers of scooters and cars
Everyone follows the traffic rules 
wait patiently for the green signals
one in Tainan city never feels pity
city buses and t-bikes are the best friends of a wanderer in the city
people are always helpful,
they adore you as they adore ‘hello kitty’;

small parks almost at every half a kilometer
elderly people like Mr. and Mrs. Wang use them for exercise
sometimes the parks provide sweet beds to the homeless;
i often use the underground passage of the Tainan train station
i look at the people sleeping there
they have made their small worlds in the underpass
they eat, they sleep, they chat with their neighbours
people look quite strange and funny without boundaries around them

their small worlds haven’t yet known the ways of the boundaries, the frontiers; these people are happy in heavy rains and in extreme cold, are they happy?
     Tainan has a home for everyone, i guess

when I feel bored, i go to the sea
and bathe in the sounds of its waves lapping against the shores
sunset-platform lets you enjoy the majestic sunset and calming breeze born of the boundless deep

_____to be continue in part-II
© Litan Dey  Create an image from this poem.


Prologue 4



      Then she French kissed LizPiggo and publicly scolded the young Chinese server for not making extra sale? 
The young lady scribbled her phone number on 
napkin and gave it to Gus looking over her shoulder 
to the old hag seeming approval. Along with phone number it read, HELP!
Gus thought to himself, maybe the spirits were 
speaking through this girl, wanting the help 
only he could provide. He winked a James Bond 
kind of wink and strolled out like he swallowed 
one of his grandmother's pills. 
Which he went ahead and did.
  The ride one block to home was arduous. 
Both stomachs full. LizPiggo was wailing 
from inside the backpack. I have to shiiiit! 
She whined. Oooo the backpack isn't big enough, 
she explained, as a warning. Gus examined the 
sturdy zipper and his options, he only had a pair of binoculars for peeping on the neighbor lady in 
there which would be easy to clean. 
He set his mind on greater things. He needed to do a seance! 

Gus stood there in his urine and realized two things,
number one he was already hungry again and two
that LizPiggo ate the leftovers. And three,
"I can't have a seance on an empty stomach. 
That's how people become possessed! 
Not gonna happen. Not to this guy!"
Gus had been meaning to try the other Chinese 
restaurant down the street. This would be the perfect opportunity. He was somewhat not filthy, so he 
wouldn't have to bathe. He stole 50 dollars from his 
Great Aunt's purse, for just such an occasion. 
It was like destiny or something. Gus imagined all the possibilities on the way. On how things were lining up for him in a non coincidental manner. First the hunger, somewhat not filthiness, then the money. 
It seemed fate had waited long enough. Would this 
be the day he transformed? He didn't know. 
It certainly appeared that way. He looked around from the corners of his eyes, to soak in the day's possible 
signs. Non chalantly, so as not to seem like he was begging for the powers that be, to crown him.
Once and for all!
Before long Gus had chained his bike 15 times 
around the golden dragon that harbinged the 
storefront and he made his way inside cautiously 
expecting a hag ninja to spring out of a planter 
or bench or maybe, there she was directly behind 
him with a scale to weigh him and his pockets !....
art
Form: Other

Nature and Me On the Riverside

When I appear there Nature seems to 
Dance and dance and dance, 
When I disappear she is prone to 
Weep and weep and weep. 

Withdraws all clouds from sky to set a 
Splendid scenery, 
So that me rising from the river 
Afresh may there espy. 

Whether it sun or shower or snow or 
Storm, when I arise 
To set my arms, the setting Sun 
Certainly will be there. 

Women who go to the river for bathing 
Choose my choicy time, 
So that there they may bathe in warm and 
Yellow sunshine time. 

Now here a plant blossoms and blooms and 
Soon another there, 
Here Spring is reappearing, with her 
Bring all beauties back. 

Nature is dancing with her rhythmic 
Steps and divine smile, 
Why can't I row a boat here swaying 
To and fro on waves? 

The valleys wear their flowery carpets, 
And the mountains are 
Once again clad in colours, such this 
Sylvan scene is set. 

White cranes are there always on serene 
Haunted islets sit, 
Or stand by whiter cows there grazing 
O'er the lushy green. 

Suppose some Beauty glance and dance in 
This wild atmosphere, 
Then surely that's a dance to see, when 
Mother Nature dance. 

So Nature takes the pen out of my 
Hands and writes for me, 
May that there me, the clouds and cranes and 
Cows and waves witness.  

On cloudy days, practically there will be no sun to see. But it was my insistence that when I rise up after bathing in the river and look up to the sky, the sun should be there in the western horizon for me to worship. If it is a heavy raining day, I will select the time to go to the river according to when the rain will have a possibility of abating. Even on the heaviest raining days in the east, nature is benevolent enough to uncover sun at least for a few seconds. I will select this time to rise up from the river with my eyes closed and fervently wishing for father sun to be there when I open my eyes. With closed eyes when we look westward, standing river fresh, I don't know what makes it happen but the sun will always be there though sometimes be for only a few seconds. It is like this life-giver listens to fervent wishes of his off-springs and grants them.

A Poem By P.S.Remesh Chandran. Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books. Trivandrum. 

Read more about our views on poetry and about our various poetry editorial services, kindly visit http://poetryeditservice.blogspot.in/

Can My Small Voice

Here we are again
With me with my small voice 
smaller still than it was before
Reaching deep into the darkness to find you 
to give you my hand and tell you that you are not alone
Here we are again
 with me believing with all my heart and soul that I can help you
my voice cracking and you can't hear it
 but my heart's so strong 
Reaching out 
so tired
 so weak and yet so willing to reach for you
even in my own fatigue and age 
 to reach out for you
 to let you know you're not alone
 it's going to be okay
everyday is such a miracle 
do you not see
 if you look for  how beautiful the morning is
How incredible it is at end of day
 the sun sets 
and this beautiful sunset
is it not more beautiful than you can believe 
is it not worth living for
 just to see it
I didn't 
I don't want to ask anything more from one day than a beautiful sunrise and a beautiful sunset
 and
 that I did I do something
 I got off the couch I did something
I accomplished at least one thing that I really wanted to accomplish in any day
That's how you survive
You get up and do one thing 
One thing at least
 that makes you proud
Dishes, laundry, paint something, fix something, help someone, clean something, brush your teeth, wash your hair, anything
and then go on 
one step at a time 
one day at a time 
not like the alcoholics call it but just believe in every single day
Give thanks for your pillow
Give thanks for your sheets
Give thanks for your water
give thanks for showers
 do you know  people used to only bathe once in awhile in cold water in big tubs...do you have any idea how incredible it is that we have hot water and you can stand in the shower
you want to give up life and yet the reality is if you just stand in the shower in that hot water you'll feel so much better and if you think about how much you should appreciate it
 that
that alone is enough to get you through at least one day
Please get through one more day
And then each day is brand new...just one more thing...do just one more thing you can be proud of as the sun sets
Do you over and over cause I think you are incredible
I think you are beautiful
I believe in you and my love has no end
Just like love is supposed to be
Somewhere out here in cyber security space
God gets to say just what he wants to 
I love you

Son of the Morning Star, Or Custer At the Little Bighorn

Historically accurate, narrative poem

25 June, 1876 - Valley of the Little Bighorn

Nothing stirs this June night, not a summer’s breeze or a breath of life.  All is eerily quiet, and on yonder hillside, shroud of darkness and death descended, lay ten score men and more, naked, mutilated and dead, strewn grotesquely white among their horses slain, as bulwarks of flesh against the Sioux in vain.  Stench of death everywhere, the din of battle no longer there, said to have sounded like snapping threads in the tearing of a blanket, albeit their frenzied volleys found mostly air.

Swept away like chaff by a vengeful Gall, from Finley Ridge to Calhoun Hill, the men of Companies C and L were first to die, then next to fall was Company I.  Further down the ridge on a death pocked hill, gathered around their commander in a desperate band, remnants of E and F with a Fugitive few were the last of the soldiers to stand.  Mortally wounded, bullet through breast, a brevet or coffin had been his request.  Down upon knees begging no quarter, revolver still firing the latter he receives.  As the death blow falls, so also falls Son of the Morning Star.

From out of the smoke dust and din, only one from the Command emerges to return home again.  Look!  Up on the hill there is a stirring, amongst the shadows and gun smoke yet lingering, a solitary figure to life still clinging, is struggling to reach the river refreshing to bathe his wounds and ease the pain inflicted by humans gone insane.  But of the day on that hillside far, of the carnage and death he did see, of the smoke and the hell and of a fallen star he would no-one ever tell, for he was Keogh’s mount, the valiant horse Comanche.

Earlier that day much like a cavalier Knight, Custer with his 7th arrived spoiling for a fight.  Into the valley of the Little Bighorn they rode, battalions deployed to sweep left and charge to the front, while his columns of four detached to the right.  Further ever further was pressed the advance, in to the jaws of perdition where they hadn’t a chance, to keep the appointment with destiny on that hillside far and eternal night for Son of the Morning  Star.

No, nothing stirs this June night, not a summer’s breeze or a breath of life and across the valley up on yonder hillside, all now is eerily quiet.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Self Portrait---A Dreamer, a Schemer

I am one breathtaking moment
I am one who is lost or alone
I am one raindrop, or one flowering rose
I am a distant star or a meadow lark
Or one dark cloud that hovers on the horizon
I am many memories from a long ago childhood
I am many tears and many sorrows
I am many rainbows and many seasons
I am many reasons to sing a love song
Or tell a story, or share the laughter, or feel the glory
I am all the colors of our world
I am all races, all creeds, the scattering of seeds
I am all words unfurled into the light
I am all the broken hearts and hopes lost in the night
I am all the hurt, all the anger, all the joy, all the love
I am all who believe in God above
I am all who doubt, thereof
I am all who laugh, and sing, and wail and shout
I am unleashed with wild emotion
I am heartbreak, and devotion
I am humble, I am proud
Soft as a whisper, the shape of a cloud
I am the stepping stone to healing
I renew by sharing feelings
I am a few unbroken rules, a few enchanting jewels
I am the ember, I am the spark
    -----------  the poet in "me" who dreams in the dark
~
   -----------  but this is the real "me" who schemes in the dark
I am the neighbor, who brings you soup
I am a tomboy, I am a friend
I'll lend an ear if you are troubled
My favorite food might be ice cream
A double scoop, I beg you please?
I'll bathe the dog, I give good hugs
I rub their backs when they are ill
Good music fills my eyes with tears
Love hula hoops. Loops in my ears
Toss a ball into a hoop and ride a horse, (I have for years)
I like to wear my denim jeans, occasionally I'll wear my lace
Brunette, of hair, my mother's face
I make mistakes....... I won't forsake you
Don't buy me a crown, I'm not a queen
But I am keen on my clean house
I'll not judge you...don't hold a grudge
My husband declares that I'll not budge
But I can make some awesome fudge
I'm small in size......my eyes are blue
I'm not a prize..I'll blow a fuse
I thrive on loving, I'll love you too
And I can fix most things with glue
I can stretch a dime, make old things new
I love antiques and have a few
I've paid my dues.....with ups and downs
One ordinary girl........from one small town
This may be more than you want to know
But that's scoop, ..... I'll say adieu ....!





______________________________________
For Frank's Contest: Self-Portrait
Form: Bio

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