Long Biscuits Poems
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Cuz while ya steel got
moxie, don't nix chance if only a dot
before death finds
flesh rotting alot.
A self-actualized fringe benefit
as I racked up
orbitz round sun -
with increased measured,
(albeit neglected) ragged, and
shot thru tattered (turn shroud) -
regarding chronological yardage
brought to my dimming wattage -
sputtering third eye blind, sans
hindsight surveying extensive
emotionally frenzied groveling with
a lifetime penitential wreckage,
whence urgent critical (update)
foisted upon formerly entrenched
hermetically sealed voyage -
sequestered self wrought fallout,
viz long stretches of
time irretrievably gone with the wind
found me averse toward
commingling with village -
peopled within sin king
precincts of Lake Woebegone
joyus kneaded livingsocial
natives, now visa
vis (nee this past
and present atheist)
discovered the healing power
of powder milk biscuits,
when accommodated within Norwegian
bachelor farmer vicarage),
qua pained obligation now
imposed kickstarted mandate
to pay dying wage
clearly written along,
the sub weighted psyche walls
(over time) easily read
across my wrinkled visage,
where former cumulative
years of existence
pitched yours truly
figuratively teetering upon
precipice of abyss gave vantage
written in telltale creases
countenance spelling umbrage,
against me - asper tonnage
schlepping psychological Matthew
Scott Harris "baggage,"
wrought from decades
worth of uncultivated tillage
cuz n'er did I gather rosebuds...
during prime mortal teenage
stretch, thus present
day agonizing suffrage
yawning chasm miserably houses
bleak (Dickensian) testimony,
sans recovered anorexic
(NO...NOT... NEVER
bulimic), but feebly
endured desultory stage
punctuated quasi (moat)
towed riddled rattle trap ship
of state into deadly scrimmage
defies propped up
moxie succombing unrelenting
weathering, unforgiving savage
nasty, brutal and short sabotage,
wherein futile - short
changed growh opportunities
forfeited developmental stage
opportunities introverted
vehemence doth rage.
Impossible mission, nonetheless
eschatological, diabolical, critical...
dire straits betokens armageddon.
Come Tuesday, November 3, 2020
mandatory voting obligation to oust
horrible malevolent commander in chief.
Spanish and English writing on border wall
bespeaks impending apocalyptic windfall
weapons of mass destruction concomitant ashfall
brinkmanship ticks doomsday clock, hence the call
muster civilians and military troops coup to marshall
tuckered bands overthrowing pathological
megalomaniac haint your
homegrown garden variety apprenticed screwball,
Née commandeer of human abuses free world oh God
this exclamation ejaculated yours truly house atheist
runs ruinously, reprehensibly, rampantly roughshod
scaring out bejesus within winkin blinkin and nod
land of powdermilk biscuits and raw bits promises
to become ground zero predicated boneheaded clod.
Atrocious, cantankerous, egregious,
grievous, ignominious... dispensing
most every venerated, ushered, touted,
sacred, revered, pronouncing
progressive amendments dead
on arrival blithely shredding to tatters
hard won reforms since Fred
Flintstone days of yore shelving
codied, ratified, sanctified... shed
jeweled important legislation,
plus Russian musk cows to wed
Putin on the ritz.
Blasphemous, cantankerous, deleterious...
execrable folly... doth seed
subsequently begetting and breed
anarchy, chaos, hell, plus helps
foment pernicious, ominous,
noxious, malodorous... misdeed
pitting one against another creed
internecine warfare, where liveried
troops don and trumpet
(auld) alternative energy
fighting gear powering, i.e. ac/dc freed
one or more dirty deed
done dirt cheap reducing at lightspeed,
the hard fought/won democratic
inalienable rights purportedly guaranteed
by United States constitution,
(though oft times bias, i.e. reed
anti semitism, charade, facade...) heed
trample equality, morality, universality...
making mockery (attested bleed
courtesy flagrant historical extant bigotry,
chicanery, depravity... greed).
Hence, I step off figurative soapbox
dodging any lobbed missiles or rocks
no surprise bullied by same jocks,
who tormented me during high school
probably tattooed, pierced, and bald of locks
unlike yours truly, he sports self
as aging pencil neck geek
wearing non matching shoes and socks.
The 28th of April; I'll always remember that day
It was very overcast and the sky was quite grey
That short journey to the vet I will never forget
And when I think back to that day, I have no regret.
He was such a welcome member of our family
A playful cocker spaniel and we named him Ozzie
He loved to go for long walks out in the country
When he saw us with his lead, he'd go off in a frenzy.
I thought he'd take off when he started wagging his tail
The weather didn't faze him, be it ice snow or hail
I would mumble about the weather under my breath
But he was loving every minute although soaking wet.
We'd get back from our walk and I'd rub him down
You could see the joy in his face and never a frown
Then after his dinner he'd lie down for a long snooze
Out of all the dogs in the world every time him I'd choose.
He was eleven years old when he started to fade
I lost count of the many visits to the vets we made
We must have given him every medicine and pill
But we knew in our hearts that Ozzie was quite ill.
0ur family got together to discuss what was for the best
Reluctantly we all agreed that we should put Ozzie to rest
That terrible morning arrived, it was just another day
All he could do was sleep, he was just too ill to play.
My wife came home from work and I carried him to the car
Then drove slowly down to the vets, it wasn't too far
We went inside and sat down and no words were said
And I tried not to think that soon Ozzie would be dead.
It seemed like a life time then a nurse called us in
I carried him to a side room; the vet was waiting
The vet reassured us that he wouldn't feel a thing
We were both biting our lips to stop us from crying.
We'd brought his favourite biscuits and fed him one by one
And just a few minutes later our playful Ozzie was gone
We stayed with him for a while and then left him there
I know now it was for the best because we did care.
We got home it felt empty no one to greet us at the door
And I missed seeing him where he'd often lie on the floor
Its been three long years now but I'll never forget
That Ozzie was one of the family and not just a pet.
(Ozzie left us on the 28th April 2017)
Written 8th August 2020
For All Pets Go To Heaven Poetry Contest
Sponsored By Constance La France
I have waited for so long to share this impromptu song, I have created it myself, the day when I heard that my mother was dead; I am still trying to process it, but I cannot see where the story fits;I was twelve and my brother was fifteen, three years separate us apart and the day she died my entire world came apart.
She was all that I had to keep me for being, sad and the call that she made when she was on that date was the biggest mistake that she had ever made. It was easy for them to trace the call and find her location abroad, I didn’t know that was the last time I was going to speak to her or I would have told her that I loved her and my heart would be at ease.
Everything happens so fast and here I am exiled in the dark, living in a strange country estrange from the royal family, and the people that I love so dear cannot take the time to celebrate my signature line with me. Everyone is busy and they cannot adjust their schedule to join me.
Here I am all alone celebrating the games anniversary without a crown; I wish my mother was around she would have driven out all the fear and smile; she was so bold and I loved having her around, but now I am a grown man but every time I think about her it makes my spirit sad my heart starts yearning for thee.
I have tried not to think about it, and I kept wondering why Paparazzi did it, I have a strong inclination to open up the case to put the conspire to bed and reveal the truth of how my mother died .
Was the accident meant for her or was it meant for the company that was with her, it was arrange and the probe was not in vain but the act of adultery in broad day light would have ended in a sacrifice. I still cannot see were the story fits, pull the puzzle apart and shine the light into the dark.
I can still see the procession moving along and my brother and I walking behind the horse driven casket; how much that memory haunts me and tarnishes my childhood prosperity .If I had to make one wish that would be to see her alive again and I would thank her for making that heartfelt sacrifice.
I have composed this Impromptu song and I want the royal family to sing it with me, to erase Dina's painful memory.
I have never gotten over it and mercy has spared me from going over the cliff. Tell my father to come and see me and have biscuits and tea with me.
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.
Self quarantined misanthrope pitched into purgatory wham!
Ably cane resign eternal damnation (mine)
courtesy devil specially engraved telegram
prestidigitation found me vanishing shazam,
without a trace I disappeared in thin air voila
Earthly travails atop horns of dilemma ram
into me buttucks pitching yours truly ma'am
hoisted by my own petard sheepishly wool
ewe (red dully) bull heave human bug eyed
recalcitrant specimen (me) nonetheless lamb
basted skewered (think shish kabob) log jam
succinctly described helplessness to preserve
ultimately repurposed into green eggs and ham
harmless recluse no more valuable than flotsam.
Grant simple wish to withdraw into hermitage
coronavirus (COVID-19) just desserts we wage
us *****sapiens on trial across web world stage
severely misappropriating Earthly resources rage
understandable Gaia she pointedly reminds adage
inescapable comeuppance whereby our civilization
written off as atrocious, hellacious, malicious, page
poisonous primates essentially, dismally, yes clearly
bollixed, failed, leveraged, & tortured planet I gauge
hell in a handbasket ironic tragicomic fate wise sage
of yesteryear did prognosticate now we scurry hither
and yon, to and fro Smashing Pumpkins immortalize
metaphor likened each one of us as rat locked in cage
bajillion eons ago once upon a time our noble savage
ancestors levels playing field now new bacteriophage
relentlessly pits twenty first century civilization doles
microscopic organism (battling unseen enemy) voyage
around sun fraught tooth and nail powder milk biscuits
a Prairie Home Companion ruse buzzfeeding courage
for shy people (yours truly) communicating message,
albeit urgent to revamp paradigm to live social - nsync
with eco friendly coda allowing, enabling, & providing
liberty and justice for all living (colorful) things hostage
at mercy of self proclaimed superior beasts above average
with intelligence, yet rendering oblate spheroid garbage.
No major inconvenience incapacitates rather humdrum
bard (rarely bored), I wanna pitch headlong into scrum
no need to scream and shout, cuz I speak softly to mum
(Mother Earth) reassuring, she inevitably bests hoodlum
standing arrogant, boastful, deceitful comfortably numb
oblivious when day of reckoning delivers offal maelstrom.
Rats in the cellar, squirrels in the tree,
things aren't the same as they used to be.
When I left for school with my li'l lunch pail,
I didn't expect a penguin to swallow a whale.
Such an injustice, I've never seen,
a cantaloupe falsely imprisoned a bean.
It's unheeded screams, uncontrolled laughter,
when it's trolls that live happily ever after.
Doors off their hinges, pancakes are stacked,
biscuits are burning, windows are cracked.
Termites in the baseboards, rabbits that fly,
pigs that regularly take to the sky.
Voices that whisper, mad dogs that bite,
winds that go howling and look for a fight.
Wrapped in cellophane, mixed in a blender,
taped up in cardboard and returned to sender.
Rainbows and ravens, kaleidoscope dreams,
leafless branches, gallows lit by moonbeams.
Music boxes, pink ribbons and bows,
tags come on packages; tags come on toes.
Curtains lifted, sick, unsavory scenes,
gear wheels in gear wheels run strange machines.
Dissected, disowned and double-downsized,
unaided, unacknowledged and unrecognized.
Puzzles, conundrums that cannot be solved,
water plus turpentine make witches dissolve.
Pimentos are diced, harsh words are spoken,
nightmares are jumbled; eggshells are broken.
Lost in the doldrums, eyeballs protrude,
walking on blisters, a horse latitude.
Spineless jellyfish, lackeys and flunkies,
silver tongued vultures, branch swinging monkeys.
Experts and pundits, paid authorities,
Kool-Aid in canisters, down on your knees.
Bishops take pawns, the fat lady sings,
fires ablaze on black nights with kings.
Shattered stars, fragmented stones,
shining splinters, bleak, burning bones.
Songs without meaning, songs without words,
sung by unseen phantoms and silent birds.
Refrigerators with pictures nobody knows,
eyes staring back, no answers disclose.
Spiders and spinning bicycle wheels,
buffalos, bandits, and slippery seals.
Electric toothbrushes, electric chairs,
lethal injections, pushed down the stairs.
Pieces on the floor, a sad state of disarray,
the gift you've left me is insanity's bouquet.
You stole my cookies, pilfered my cat,
laughed at me roundly and turned me down flat.
Mice it in the attic go chitter chatter,
have I lost my wits or gone mad as a hatter?
We crossed the streams where the fool's gold gleams as we joked and told our stories
And each man spoke of his love and home when work's all done this Fall
When the work's all done this Fall
We hadn’t made it halfway up with Bill still trailing badly
When Johnny said to Pete and Joe let’s stop here and eat dinner
We'd be home in time for supper
Slide Whistle Ike said a plan I like presents itself most handy
So I went back down to round up Bill my beans and biscuits waiting
My beans and biscuits waiting
I turned my mount back down the hill an eye peeled for Bill’s pony
When it caught my eye upslope in the bye near a shaking quakie standing
A shakey quakie standing
That’s where my knees like the trembling trees moved in the breeze a whisperin’
But it wasn’t the wind left the bone and skin above my boots a'shakin’
Surely, I was mistaken
Young Bill had tied his horse to a sapling down where the trail was bending
And climbed up high framed in the sky behind him dark as midnight
What happened to the daylight?
A ghastly glow surrounds him so like embers from the Devil’s campfire
His eyes and face had greatly aged and he smiled like the rage of the Talon River
The raging Talon River
For there stood Bill on that cursed hill his eyes ablaze like lightning
Astride a stream that'd turned to steam under where Mad Bill was standing
Right where that Bill was standing
It hissed and moaned and turned the stones I swear to molten metal
And swept more stones that broke like bones as they tumbled down the mountain
That wretched cursed mountain
He was on a ridge above the boys still laughin' with their dinner
They couldn't see for a line of trees hid their eyes from doom impending
All Hades was descending
I shouted up, "Joe grab the boys and ride to where I'm standing!"
But he couldn't hear me and my desperate plea was lost on that black mountain
That black and burning mountain
Then Ike first heard that sound not found this side of the river Styx
And he barely had time to shout the names of his saddle mates and home
"Home boys! Head for home!"
But there was no time to clear their mind and comprehend what's coming
For who could know what terrible blow upon them was descending
All Hades was descending
________________________________________
I remember, I remember my garden of joy,
It gave me great happiness when I was a boy
At the bottom of the garden was a delightful stream,
When alone, I would sit beside it, meditate and dream.
In the garden stood an ancient apple tree,
In the spring time its coloured buds were a joy to see.
In the autumn the russet apples were harvested in,
Our neighbours also enjoy surplus apples from our bin.
At summertime my two friends would come in and play cricket,
Game stopped when the batsman knocked the ball into the thicket.
On summer evenings Mum or Dad read us a story in the eventide,
Other children came in, lemonade and biscuits mum did provide.
Subject to weather mum packed a picnic on a Sunday afternoon,
To meet the local villagers, to gossip, farmers sold their eggs, that was a boon The villagers would meet, discus each others fortune, on the village green, There all the local gossip everyone could tell or glean.
The young ones played football, cricket or handball,
The girls often beat the boys, that did not go down well.
Some times in the evening Dad would take me down to listen to the local band, Some music I did not like, some I thought was grand.
I left home at twenty one to work in the city,
My little village is now a small town, what a pity.
I have photo’s to remind me of my happy past,
With an expanding world villages like mine will never last.
Freedom foremost, and the will to fight
to keep and protect our natural rights.
Nightclubs, jello shots, disco balls
mechanical bulls, beers cold and tall!
Baseball, football, and basketball games,
crazy rodeo riders on horses untamed.
Books by the millions, more than can be read,
and knowing anything can be by anyone said.
Burgers on buns, potato and tortilla chips,
yeah, those are American, born in Texas!
Satirical cartoons, radio and TV,
the magic that was Hollywood, as it used to be.
Ragtime, Bee-bop, Rockabilly, and Jazz
Swing, R & B, movie soundtracks, and Bluegrass.
The warm blanket of country when feeling cold,
the power and fury of rock and roll.
The grind of hip-hop and of rap…
on second thought, we apologize for that.
But funk gets things all out of control,
and who can say no to harmonious soul?
Stream locomotives, tracks narrow and wide,
flying machines that soar through the sky.
The glorious art that is the western,
and old Las Vegas, the moral tester.
The miracle of southern barbeque,
the burn of moonshine, or Mountain Dew.
Soft ice crew and greasy-fast French fries,
the expectation that politicians lie.
Liberty in law deeply enshrined,
muscle cars driving of the right side.
Suburbs, cabins, farms and guns,
and every legally available type of fun.
Forests, combines, and big chain-saws,
as well as full equality before the law.
A vast landscape, awesome to see,
an undying faith in our families.
Art from great down to lackluster,
recalls, vetos, and filibusters!
Checks and balances on the powerful,
we invented the internet, so things are never dull!
Mountain bikes and rollers blades,
fried chicken and biscuits, porterhouse steak.
Diners, dairy bars and fast food,
we walked on the friggin’ moon,
and built the only probes that escaped
into the void of interstellar space.
I could go on, I am tempted to,
but I think I’ve made my point to you,
And when young fool have yelled there fill,
reject their nonsense talk of “guilt.”
All nations have screwed up, it’s so
but perfection is something man never knows.
This nation still tires to confront is sins,
and brings forth profusions of great things.
The scales upon which we are weighed,
are ever clear in what they say:
When it all is said and done,
America is made of awesome.