Long Bit by bit Poems
Long Bit by bit Poems. Below are the most popular long Bit by bit by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bit by bit poems by poem length and keyword.
Here on the edge on the mad verge,
A snapping ledge as words emerge.
Clear as old fears in plain worry,
A passage dear that binds folly.
Hear the hoarse sounds that pound around,
A common ground for thoughts unsound.
Heap odd troubles with crippled mind,
A fine double as crazy finds.
Odd this preview of slimy rot,
A fancy stew of crimson plot.
Dance with the wind and toss that fear,
A surprise win to find glimpse dear.
Sit still to see what sight fails well,
A hint to be so soul can tell.
Play is the prize that zest knows best,
A timeless slice of ample fest.
Pray if you must to gather wit,
A truth to trust in mellow fit.
So bit by bit a tune most strange,
A sure poise sits to utter range.
Feel memory dance melody,
A fantasy of comedy.
Think of the times when mad things rhyme,
A surreal mime wrought in quaint chimes.
Here on the verge of pique this urge,
A poignant merge of comic purge.
Leon Enriquez
18 April 2017
Singapore
Chasing the wind and butterflies
Blowing dandelions and watching them rise.
The feel of soft grass beneath tiny feet
Not yet knowing the feel of defeat.
Growing up
Mud puddles to jump.
Catching fish in the nearby creek
Playing games of hide and seek.
Growing older
Standing shoulder to shoulder.
Reading books by flashlight
Giggling with friends all night.
The excitement of a boyfriend
Dreaming of dances and football games to attend.
The crush of a broken heart
The feeling of your soul being ripped apart.
Slowly, bit by bit
A decision to not quit.
Watching clouds float by,
Makeup to apply.
Listening for a horn to blow,
Always on the go.
The end of school days,
The catching of bouquets.
Finally, the decision you must make,
Which road do you take?
Chase the wind and the butterflies
Or try to grab everything before your eyes?
She once floated through the world
like sunlight in motion--
a butterfly… bold and free in the sky.
Now her wings are in pieces,
scattered by hands
that tried to hold her close to the ground.
She feels again the freedom of flight.
The warmth of wind on her face,
the quiet joy of being free.
So she tries.
Even with trembling wings,
she lifts herself once more.
But the unkind see her light,
and stretch out to hold her back,
just to watch her stumble.
A tiny thread inside her
keeps her pieces from scattering.
Her heartbeat is soft but strong,
softly telling herself she can go on.
When she cannot fly, she walks.
When she cannot walk, she crawls.
But she keeps moving.
Even when weary - she moves bit by bit.
Her wings, though wounded,
still glimmer beneath the scars and
their beauty undimmed by jealousy or hate.
Someday, she will climb higher than ever
and no one will be able to hold her back.
Someday, the sky will open,
and welcome her in.
And she will lift herself—
slow, trembling, breathtaking…
wings spread wide,
strength held together from pain.
And those who look up
will see her and know:
even the fallen
can fly again.
written 11222025_DMK
Godzilla likes to terrorize
And bring fear in peoples lives
When he took an anger fit
Tokyo destroyed bit by bit
Fiery eyes full of hate
Not one second he would wait
To start tearing down
A big city he has found
And used as a fun game
While hotness and red flame
Rage out of his mouth and nose
Temper rises as he shows
His ability to cause
A lot of suffering and loss
To whoever's in his path
His postalness is growing fast
So run as far as you can
This monsters getting out of hand
And wont stop anytime soon
His enjoyments spreading doom
As he goes on more rampage
Using Tokyo as a stage
To perform a play that will
Go on cause he likes the thrill
Trust
Trust is fragile, yet so strong
In relations must belong
Of value beyond all worth
Than all the gold on the earth
Trust has high inherent risks
Often puts one in good stead
Should hidden motives exist
Relations eulogies read
Trust, like an old China plate
With hundreds years of use
E’en by King Henry the Eighth
Will always fail to abuse
Flip the plate high o’er and o’er
Handle with careless regard
Find it shattered on the floor
In hundreds of broken shards
By miracle, the pieces found
And glued in place bit by bit
Never will it be as sound
As before that careless flip
So with trust, and it is true
Abuse and misuse it, friend
It is a day you will rue
Will n’er be the same again
Rest for a while as ideas come,
Wear a true smile that simply sums.
Ideas can paint that sparkle here,
Pressure can taint that awkward sphere.
Wait as you sit for words to come,
Yes bit by bit, a message sums.
Take heed and shape the inner voice,
Harvest fond grapes where wit tints poise.
Look beyond things when pulse dictates,
Let surge and fling frame what pulsates.
Word by word mint a verse that works,
Thought colours hint in hurl and jerk.
In a few lines, let pictures tile
As thought defines a breath worthwhile.
Leon Enriquez
15 February 2015
Singapore
When darkness falls, and shadows creep,
When fears arise, and doubts do seep,
Keep on trying, never give up the fight,
For in the silence, a spark ignites.
Inch by inch, it's a clinch, they say,
Don't lose hope, for every step's a way,
Bit by bit, you'll reach the top,
Where the air is thin, but the view is never stopped.
Mistakes are lessons, learn from them, then move on,
For in the journey, wisdom is won.
Fall down seven times, get up eight,
And rise with strength, though weary, and irate.
Be humble, and you'll never stumble,
For pride goes before a fall, and humility's a gentle rumble.
Don't listen to the pain, for no pain, no gain,
Is the mantra of those who strive, who push through the strain.
Sometimes you need to stand, when standing's not easy,
When the weight is crushing, and the road's not breezy.
This life is full of ups and downs,
A rollercoaster ride, with twists and turns, and humps, and bumps.
We don't sleep when we're tired, but when we're done,
For the finish line's the goal, the victory's won.
Use your vision, to show the way,
Television, a tool, to display your mission, day by day.
Don't look back, focus on the prize,
For the past is gone, and the future's wise.
Play hard, work harder, and never give up the quest,
For success is not final, and failure's not the best.
Don't be afraid to fail, for failure's not the end,
It's a stepping stone, to learn, to grow, to mend.
Motivate yourself, push through the pain,
And rise above, to heights you've never gained.
Pull your socks up, untie every knot,
Kneel down, and pray, for many battles are won on knees, and thought.
The sky's not the limit, for the sky's just the beginning,
As long as you're breathing, there's hope, and a chance to start winning.
Let your eyes see, where you're heading,
Let your nose smell, the sweetness of life's offering.
Let your ears hear, what concerns you, and what will move you forward,
And be mindful of your words, for they can either lift or destroy, and either way, they'll be your reward.
Drops of moisture from the sky
Cause a sad tear from your eye
Falling like heartache and pain
Leaving the biggest bad stain
In your life that will not quit
Tearing at you bit by bit
Cracking pieces off a heart
Young and stupid, you weren't smart
To let go when things went wrong
Innocently strung along
Pulled in two different directions
Both your heart and mind detecting
Opposite views never knowing
Which way that you should be going
As you struggle with the choice
And competing on which voice
Is giving the best advice
Trying not to be enticed
Your mind is saying he's no good
Getting out, you really should
Before you are in too deep
Hurt by another sleazy creep
But your heart is not convinced
Love is knocking you off balance
Weakness fills you every time
He is looking in your eyes
This debate can never end
Until the choice to defend
Your mind over hearts opinion
Which was very slowly killin'
Your emotions being stable
Now you are stronger and able
To move on smarter and wise
Loosening the gripping ties
That were binding you so tight
Until you finally saw the light
“Route 66” (Part 2)
The Wicked Old Witch stalked her, flying above
on her revved up battered old Peugeot Stick made from
twigs and oderous putrifying brown crud.
Up to this point all silent, the ugly old hag now cackled her passive abuse,
“You may have those Red Shoes Dot, but what matters to me you dim-witted dove,
is that, I now possess forever,
what you truly “most” Love.
Dot was dying bit by bit from the inside, but her fierce Warrior Spirit,
kept her soul burning with pride,
her head held up high,
however, at this point in the story, she wished she had a big gun loaded
with sharp deadly bullets of Bromargyrite.
Dot ignored the covetous old hag, pitied her, that much can be said,
you see, her brother the mindless Scarecrow, was bolted up tight, locked in a cold Tin Shed -
(punishment, his crime: “no brain in his head”);
Dot continued to soldier on forward,
kept up her Warrior’s stride
and thought of the moral in that story about one’s own bed,
there was nowhere to hide.
Dot now thought to look down at her magic sparkling shoes,
Ruby Red,
thought clicking them twice but what was the point,
all that was Home was now dead.
Dot took her eyes off her feet, with eyes now open wide,
she stood stock still, she noticed with pure horror,
clearly understood -
Toto, whom she loved “Most” of all
was missing, no more by her side,
nowhere to be seen
in this dark nightmarish neighbourhood.
A Lion came out of nowhere emerged from the mist,
Somewhere a tawny owl hooted “Who? Who? Is this now a tryst?”
He was holding his tail and a deck of Queens Slippers,
He purred ever so nicely, “Where to now Missus?
I’ve got your back. I’ll stay true.”
“How hard can that be,” he thought, “to dissolve all of her indigo blues?”
Somewhere in the background all foggy
but right on track,
ACDC was playing, that song,
you know the one,
“The Jack”.
(Lovejoy-Burton/Dec 2017)
Huddled little kitten sat on the hot porch and waited for the day
To bring her something fun to do, perhaps a leaf or a bit of fluff
She was notorious for finding joy in the simple things.
She did not have long to wait. A piece of string blew past.
She chased it with a feeling of pure happiness.
Capturing it in her paws, shredding it bit by bit.
Glad her day had started as it always did with enthusiasm.
Happiness, and hope in her heart. She was a kitten after all.
Being positive something fun would happen was her game.
And she was a terrific player, fully excited to sit and wait for the next thing.