Long Bill Poems

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


Alive and Me

I think no one lives. 

If everyone decided to eat an ice cream cone-
Maybe it would be easier. 
Back in summer. 
I remember that sometimes.
The next summer?
Everything will be ok. 

I think no one is alive. 
I stay in my room. 
There’s not much to do. 
Except clean my room. 
But don’t clean it. 
Anyway…

There’s something called night time. 
We shouldn’t eat pizza at night. 
So shaking, and hushed. 
I didn’t clean my bedroom.
But I embraced a slice of pizza. 

There’s something called morning. 
Another morning goes by. 
Counting the mornings. 
By drawing chalk lines in my brain. 

I think no one lives. 
They just stay. 
In their homes. 
Or they leave. 
Their homes. 

I think no one lives. 
I left my house last week. 
It just seems, 
Fuzzy now. 

I think no one lives. 
In this apartment. 
But I get the bill, anyway.


Premium Member DWELLER OF OUR HEART

DWELLER OF OUR HEART
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poem written for and submitted to “Dweller of Our Heart Poetry Contest,” Unseeking Seeker, sponsor, August 3, 2025
Line of Inquiry: “the essence in us is the same as the essence of the sun
Sunrise: 
Standing on the cliffs and looking onto the horizon
I watch the sun melt like a promise

Closing my eyes and taking in the warmth, 
I feel the pulse of light, a vibration stirring my thoughts:

What is the sun but a promise, 
a blazing heart that beats for all?
 
What am I but a similar *promise,
a possibility in God’s plan?

What is God but a promise, 
a pulsation connecting us all?

I feel His heartbeat, the pulse, 
of the ancient and divine.

I share the same flame as the sun, 
that essence binding me to Him.

Therefore, I am the sun, and the sun is in me, 
a celestial mirror, a holy unity.

My spirit rises, a luminous thread
binding me to the universe. 

My heart, now a flaming orb, shines light into the darkness
illuminating my path and showing me the way. 

Afternoon:
The day lengthens; I ascend like the sun
with a pulsating heartbeat, the divine within my soul.

*Note: “I am a promise, I am a possibility,” title and words of a popular Christian hymn written and produced in 1975, Bill and Gloria Gaither, songwriters.

Premium Member Don't Forget the Cream

Lately folks, my mind has been somewhat dusty,
I "think" I heard of some new kind of disease.
Plus, my cognition has been somewhat rusty,
I keep forgetting where I put my keys!

I'm late!, I'm late!, for a very important date,
But...I don't remember with who or where.
I can't explain why my brain makes me wait,
I just know sometimes, I feel like the "March Hare!"

I can't find my keys, I can't find my wallet,
I remember my age, but I forget the date.
I can't find my...uhh, what do you call it?
It must be some hereditary fate!

When family drops by, they won't tell me why,
And, more to the point, they forget their manners!
Won't clean up their mess, Hell, they won't even try!
It makes my brain quake, like that dude in "Scanners!"

Well, y'all know how much "Uncle Fred" loves to drink,
And for an added bonus, here's a tasty treat.
He tosses the dirty butt wipes in the sink,
Or, forgets to put the lid up, and pees on the seat!

My "Siblings" announce: They're here for a week!
But, they forget to tell me, I'll foot the bill.
Plus, their dog "Crotch" has a permanent leak,
Then leaves his "Bark" on the wall and the sill!

"Ole Grampa Gus," yeah, he makes the biggest fuss,
He hides candy in every crevice and nook.
While he makes life "Hell" for the rest of us,
He's spouting out scripture from the "Good Book!"

I'm not even going to start on my "Mom!"
The grievances are many and way too long!
Like the time she slapped me before going to Prom,
"Don't mess with those "Gals," they don't know right from wrong!"

Thankfully, "Dad" died over thirty years or more,
Ah, those little graces in life can't be beat!
He'd come home plastered, and bust thru the door,
Then I'd have to deal with another busted seat!

Yep, the more it advances, the more I agree,
This isn't such a bad thing, sporting this disease.
I'll be right back, after I take a good pee,
Hey Darlin'...how 'bout one more cup of "Dementia" please!
Form: Rhyme

Make confession, better make no confession

Love, friends and friendship became a puzzle  for me
This puzzle that I could hardly solve became a tragedy 
That I found myself in the middle of the puzzle. 
At first I thought solving the puzzle would be easy 
But the more I thought about it, the harder it became 

Confess, don't confess but confess came from all sides
And choosing among the three seemed impossible
Being friends was really cool but my heart wanted more
That I could hardly spend a minute not thinking about it
And I believed love was better but friendship became a barrier 

I approached a friend and he told me to make a move
Moving to another friend she told me not to as
She believed friendship was better than Highschool romance 
Which is childish and faints faster than expected 
Contrasting to childhood friendship which lasts until old age. 

Old age is a dream of mind and a nightmare for your heart 
And our hearts never lie and Your heart is heavier than you know 
And only confession can off-burden the weight. 
A beautiful whisper startled me, my friend true lovers are friends
And lovers are partners, confession will weaken the bond
And patience pays off a bigger bill than impatience

Premium Member As Easy As A-B-B

FINDING LOVE IS NOT AS EASY AS ABB 

It’s hard to find love in your twilight years
I've got a blue rinse,
but still seek a prince!

It’s hard to find love when you’re past your best
I’ve got aches and pains,
and varicose veins!

It’s hard to find love in this small care home
All the men are old,
doddery or bald!

It’s hard to find love with few men around
Had my eyes on Heath,
he had his own teeth!

It's hard to find love when choices are slim
Ted is such a hunk,
sadly he's a monk!

It’s hard to find love as I walk so slow
From my zimmer frame,
I shout out his name!

It’s hard to find love, when men don’t respond
I’ve lived here a year,
perhaps they can’t hear!

In time I found love, my children went mad
My husband’s named Bill -
cut kids out my will!

As Easy as ABB
Sponsor Nina Parmenter
12/30/18
Form: Rhyme


That Was Rock and Roll

Bill Haley gave us 'Rock Around The Clock'
showed us music in a different way,
Chuck Berry sang 'Johnny B. Goode'
and Buddy Holly said 'That'll Be The Day'.

Elvis went to 'Heartbreak Hotel'
and came back as the king of pop,
Jerry Lee sent us 'Great Balls Of Fire'
while Danny and his group were 'At The Hop'.

The Everly's were saying 'Bye Bye Love'
Bobby Darin was out 'Beyond The Sea',
Little Richard was with 'Long Tall Sally'
and Lloyd Price thought he was 'Stagger Lee'.

Paul Anka introduced us to 'Diana'
Del Shannon told us of his 'Runaway',
Big Bopper talked about 'Chantilly lace'
and the Rolling Stones said love 'Not Fade Away'.

Eddie Cochran took 'Three Steps To Heaven'
Don McLain made 'American Pies',
Roy Orbison was still lost 'In Dreams'
as the Platters sang 'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes'.

When the music began to change
jazz, blues and rock and roll,
got more electronic and louder
became rock, heavy metal and soul.

There are a lot more I could name
but I guess I'll just call them the rest,
It's a long time ago but I'll never forget
Rock and Roll for me was the best.
Form: Rhyme

How Floe Nice Tubby In the Throes

How... Floe N'ice Tubby In The Throes...
(breaking free of writer's block)

Asper this instance,
     when a dearth of ideas 
     like a charred bait oven
    finds me looking Bach
at drawing board and/or the clock
as if inspiration
     can be found teasing out
     whimsical child like spontaneity

     recalling hickory dickory dock
rather than exacerbate
     mental paralysis, akin
to an invisible vice grip,
     which tension eventually 
     far worse than bill
lee esse ness, which former 
     grips with irony my chin,

I try release sing restraint and chill,
ready to whip out power drill
not surprised finding sawdust,
viz of course after numbing skull
     sticking head in deep freeze
     or mounting temple
     on dry ice, without 
     receiving nary a cavil

lack of creative noggin fill
intense concentration
     invariably heats up "thinker"
     as if being scalded
     on a barbecue grill
(which fixed attention),
     never ever engenders
     positive flow of ideas,

     but absolutely ideal
     for reducing a mole hill
from a mountain
     nonetheless within ma mind,
     before long prolonged
     cessation to brain 
     storm induces ill
humor succumbing into

     torturous mental state
(fall of the cider 
     house rules usher),
     non poe whet
     tick dark age,
     whar ah felt jill
ted loom min hated
     with panic ready to kill...

mice elf (Stuart Little),
     cuz dem lil
cerebral cogs and wheels
     malfunction for more'n a mill
yen times prompting
     to scout graveyards
     for fresh corpse, and
     if results rendered nill

jet over to Doctor Frankenstein,
     even if aye gotta
     hightail to Trans sill
vein ya, unless....
     perhaps ye kind reader twill
donate yar viable gray matter tummy
     (right after ya die) denny ya will
almost be im mort till!

Premium Member Ballade of Eternal Bliss

Here the sun shines soft and warm—
Caressing all in vales and on hill—
It gives a glow to every inherent form—
And reveals for every eye a thrill.
Of here they never get their fill—
For this is Bliss, an endless treasure—
Where our dream is the Lord’s will—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.


The garden is a lush, green platform—
Big blooms with the fluffiness of chenille—
Songbirds’ music raise a storm—
Their feathered robes fill the bill.
Wings spread they fly away at freewill—
Along the curvy course of the river—
They seek the Lord’s grace with skill—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.


The dream cottage, fancy for the norm—
With a stone paved path to the doorsill—
A neat little shelter from the storm—
Has a spice garden for basil and dill.
And there’s a gazebo for time to kill--
For when gardenwork calls for leisure—
Or even for the blessing of a drizzle—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.


To some this vision may instill—
A yearning for the bliss in nature—
But the Lord is sovereign still—
And God rules by His divine pleasure.
Form: Ballade

Premium Member Wit on the Wing

INTRO
  From Little Lucy Creek up to Signal Hill
  The cry of the crow cracks the morning still
  Since the first smoke wisp curled round his bill
  That crooked smile hides his secret still

The cardinal wakens wise old eyes
When the blues of the jay match the evening skies
Since feather took flight it's been no surprise
Bones yearn to bend lest they ossify

Since feather found bone in an iridescent way
That old rainbow rogue holds mysterious sway
He'll harry the sparrow and harass the jay
Likely stay that way til the very last day

BRIDGE
     The class of the order is the genius of the genus
     The keys to the kingdom of the family tree 
     Round his neck like the locket of a beautiful Venus
     But cunning is the gem of his jew-el-ry

OUTRO
  From Crooked Creek down to the old stone mill
  The river of life holds its mystery still
  The water may tumble but the tale won't spill
  Til the last sand fills up the crooked bill
Form: Lyric

Your Love Kills

Your love is so mighty, it slays us all
Feels like my face is bein' shoved into a wall
It's like bein' driven right off a steep hill
No one's any match for your invulnerable will

Your love kills (2x)

On the battlefield of relationships,
You've got the trigger within your grip 
Nothin' will stop you from taking that hill
You're commander-in-chief of a love that kills

A love so strong,
It can hardly be managed
While all around you
Feel the collateral damage 

In the house of fear that quivers and shakes,
There's no extra room for the space your heart takes
The deed is paid but there's always a bill
We inherit the debt of a love that kills

Your love kills (4x)

Now that the fun's been taken out of it --
You tell us where to stand and explain just how to sit
And you've got us all waiting near the windowsill
For the first ground burst of a love that kills
That air raid siren weren't no drill
That was the death knell of love that kills
Form: Lyric

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