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during talking to this young lady
i looked on her quiet fondly as a friend
still stunned when she kissed me
i stepped back with shock
yet looking at her in a softened heart
i felt for her looking into her eyes i said
stop sweetheart as i looked at her
inside i was crying
so long since i heard them words
i love you
putting both hands on her face
saying looking into her eyes
you are so very sweet
she never saw inside what them words meant
i saw in her eyes hurt
feeling so ashamed
i hugged her saying
never give your feelings away
so easily to a man you barely know
you began pleading
saying you knew me for ages
it was only in the space of shopping
i felt ever so bad
wishing the ground to swallow me
so much going on in one's head
finding it hard to cope
then you began telling me
that for months you had been watching me
as we spoke once a week on the rare occasion twice
always smiling sometimes
coming up behind me
playfully giving me a fright then laughing
all this time i saw you as a friend
during the conversation
she began telling me
each time i entered the shop
she got butterflies
i felt so sad heart touched
honestly did not know what to say
beyond flattered
at that moment i felt broken hearted
i did not want to hurt her
she began saying you are always so nice
i love speaking to you
waiting and hoping to see you each we
smiling lost for words
each time after shopping
always headed to her till
she always smiled beautiful
each time she saw me even
among'st a crowd
her look would single me out
at the time one never noticed
to wrapped up in everything else in my life
there was no room within
my heart that time
to let you in
in fact i love the company
inside emotion
i shut completely down
flattered she kissed me again
honestly it tasted beautiful
i stopped her
deep within the mind one was hurting
with shattered love deep inside
please darling i said
i do not want to hurt you
try to understand my is not right
never mentioning hospitals
making one feel heartless
you began promising me
the very world you live in
inside i could feel a crying emotion
my mind in bits and pieces
barely living walking around
blind to everyone in my own hurt
the scars were still attached to feelings
of emotion that was not dealt with yet
i was a million miles away in a different space
now i see a lot clearer this is on story i will write
continued angel 3
sensory grass
tickles your toes
soft pokes
every word is a stroke
of a blade
not a brush
a lawnmower in the distance
breaks the silence
what the hell…
the smell of fresh-cut grass
and the moisture
that lingers on its smell
you know…retains it
(like the soft and cushy handprint that
stays in the grass
in the shady part of that corner in the yard
turns the white shoes green
amongst the hedges and the borders by rocks
by that long-ago planted snowball tree
and all the love you had to give while you planted it
…rubbed the lamb's ear,
said a prayer and wished it the best of luck)
but here, now
take a nap in the sunshine
under a clouded sky peacefully
on a blanket
the winds brushing by
the rays beam through
and warm that blanket
your worn-out blanket
with scents of lingering past summers
of far-off beaches and sunscreen
dusty and musty
yet beloved blanket
(different kinds of loved-upon)
but here, now
the breeze on my toes
and the breeze on the grass
and the breeze on my face and my hair
stealing my woes
keeping me cool
my eyelashes flicker
a lazy dream of greens upon blues
upon dandelion yellows
shining
until you awake
slightly alarmed
to a busy bee
buzzing by
blinded by beauty
my tears trickle down the corners of my eyes
bleed down my cheeks to my lips and taste salty
warm and salty on my tongue
warm from the gold
of that hot-blooded sun
and the sensory experience
grateful to be alive
to soak it all in
through the skin
can you feel it?
it was a lovely dream
the smell of sweet grass
how bits and pieces float on air
tickle the nose
sweet and bitter tasty on the tongue
whisking away depression blight
peace rises
higher and higher
like barometric pressure
elevating mood and lighter weight
reflecting on purpose
reflecting on mood
through transcendence
but here, now
you can just
be
tingling sensations
just
be
feeling overcome with peaceful power
power to
just
lie
still
and enjoy the senses and dreams
that the grass brings forth
you’ll wake up
remember details
and reflect upon paper
close your eyes
and reflect upon paper
an outward pour
can’t you feel it all beaming in the sunlight?
in the mood
in the barometric pressure
in those blades of grass
breathtaking striking
blades of green grass
my god, aren’t we blessed
—American writer
______________________________________________________________
It still hurting alot
Mother, it hurts so much
methinks my head is about to, I can
fathom that thought of my head will o
explode, bits and pieces of me scattered________________t
around for all to see the shiny in's
of me because of my denied dues
not to be like autumn trees and
thrush of life's breaths shedding
whites off my hair expose its amber
If I surrender will I get my summer,
our talk that soured will sweeten
the hour? Query on hold. Hold, 'tis
aching yearns for its light skin tones
some shade, some toning to
hide. A walking dead
they'll see--weird, beach
sand, I face yet ere me
a challenge be ca ut io us ly
taken out thy sullen pose fates
a wild, wild guess, be my knees subtly
repenting. Nay, not knees, essence. A noun, trickery. Shall I count the days spent within your tummy,
Mommy? Oh very well I will clean my room until the
day comes when I raise my hand and that all five fingers, you'll see thee racist who had emerged in my mirror of late, and cast then shadows just out of sight seize d--arrested in plain view by America's finest doing bet review to say
that justice is well seems to be in order
from what I see,
there are fingers of
contempt and to my
mirror grip negativity,
I offer thee the pleasure
of my knee, lest my feet get
in the weigh ..., of a deserving
kick, one goes awry like a brat such as I.
And those that were wise spoke among themselves
They took note of the darkness
spoke of things past and things yet future
they collected the news
the times and the seasons of men
they watched carefully for the time
to fulfill what was foretold
and yet it was not the time
but only a little time did each possess
What will they do with this time
but few living at the time found the Lord's Glories
he was one who lived "in the trenches"
not just fighting poverty but "poverty in spirit"
he not only touched them but he loved them
It's difficult to take my eyes off him
the depth of his beauty of soul
draws me like the herds to water
as I seek to saturate myself
with the looking at him
and the wisdom of his words
Choice words here about all that dogma
if you are missing just this one thing
it doesn't even hit close to the excellence
manifest in his nature, and I want
to explain it , clearly so
we among ourselves can understand
Where among men can you find such loyalty
no one can even purchase the like of it
nor has anyone been so completely
committed to the benefit of others
You don't hear it said often about those here
"He was incorruptible" , irreproachable , thoroughly just
without prejudice , and could aptly expound on the "wisdom of the ages"
yes in the trenches "not killing people trenches" for war
but where those who needed him could find him
I have been searching for the "like of him"
I have covered every quadrant looking for his fullness
bits and pieces , bits and pieces
and not even I with all that I have known
can display such expanse of attributes
so wholly desirable , that all the disputes of dogma
are drowned in his essences
so clear is the vision of him
and transparent his motives and activity
why would anyone exchange this pattern
for something far less valuable?
I want to slate my thirst and be saturated
bathed in the love of him
I want to commit it's energy into all my cells
and yet the circumference of it's vastness
exhausts me . I can only look upon the glory
of such a person and be mesmerized
by the shear depth of his exquisiteness
of whom I could never be worthy
to look upon such an incorruptible nature
All rights reserved © 2015 C Michael Miller
Poetry of Providence?
He came into your life from afar
At first he stood and watched from a distance
He whispered not to you but to another
Then he stepped closer to call forth-another one
This one like you
Sorrow called forth Nanator and with him your soul
He faded and tainted your most precious gift
He reached out to fleck my wings with grey too that day
For that day he nearly filled the well again
Still he had barely begun and his work grew ever closer to us both
This time he whispered to you from a foot away
Thus thrice he reached out to call forth another
Yet each time ‘twas I who wept for our suffering
For no tears have fallen from thine eyes in many years
Still Sunder gave you something in return for all he had stolen
Didn’t he . . . didn’t he
For all the bits and pieces of your soul
You were given something so dearly precious it hurt to have it
And now you lament with a voice to be heard
By the few who were to know the one buried so deep inside
The few to be loved and to love you
Desolation knew this would be so
So he whispers to you often now and from afar
Knowing that you cannot help but to listen and to grieve
With your new voice
Though it rarely rises above a breath to be a whisper
It sings of your great disenchantment
Your disbelief and your faith in the void
It allows you to cry
To tell the tale and story of your greatest sorrow
Within you there lies a faith of something more
And the desire to see
And cause the light to glimmer within another’s eyes
One whose life could carry your hopes within them
To lend your strength to
One who might have all that you denied yourself
For these long and many years
So heavy upon your shoulders
And yet this can never be and this is what despairs you so
For none to follow you
None at all
Never
Never”
And thus she spoke to me plainly
To show me my loss of faith anew
So in her despair in her sorrow
My unbelief breathes again
My search for desolation reborn
For this knowledge too great to bear
Thus I fled and so it was
I ran
A great many years
I hid myself deep within
Beyond the reach of sunlight and the eye of the moon
And in the darkness
I tore out all that caused my pain
I read everything again
To see
And to know
Why it was I had
So long ago embraced wholly my unbelief
It started when I was a child
I was a kid with a gift
That no one understood or recognized
Instead of loved I was picked on and ostracized
However I blocked it all out
But little by Little its all coming back
Like layers of an onion
That held me tightly wrapped
Bits and pieces of my memory
That were hidden away in code
Deep within my mind a door was closed
I?ve reached in to remember because my life is now in jeopardy
All the emotional and sexual abuse that I closed off to survive
Has been staring at me sabotaging my life
This life is not what I have dreamed and I am dying inside
And if I don?t face the truth of what was done to me
Then I will surely become the monster that I despise
And as the tears bellow up
I again take another breath
Like soot in a fireplace and a hair ball in a cat
I cough up the toxic memories
As images flash through my mind
With my face in the toilet I begin to cry
My body begins to stiffen as nausea rises to the top
I then begin to wail from deep in my chest
It?s a hideous cry that sends chills down my spine
As I grit my teeth and hang on for dear life
A thought runs through my mind why.. why.. why.. why.
I?m tired of the black outs
I?m tired of the fear
I?m tired of the loneliness that have held me prisoner here
I?m tired of the pain and suffering that has come in my parents name
I?m tired of all the trauma and I?m tired of all the drama
I?m tired of the neglect that?s been perpetrated on my soul
Keep your hands off of me, keep your beliefs away from me
From all the mental abuse and all the negative remarks
And you still don?t see how you?ve damaged my sensitive heart
I?m tired of hearing all the denial
I?m tired of hearing how there is nothing wrong with you
I?m tired of you blaming everyone else but you
I?m tired of hearing how you hate this and you hate that
I?ve tried for years to heal this wound
But it seems to have spread to my nephew too
I don?t know what else to do
I even ruined my only serious relationship to get revenge
In my mind I justified their crime
From all the bad advice and all the dysfunctional decisions
And I thought I was reversing everything
When I vowed never to get married and have kids
But that sabotaging act has done me more damage
As I purge my mind of all the memories bits and pieces that still infuriate me
I remember being on the phone with her in our last conversation
and in the background I could hear what her new boy friend was saying
Threatening to leave and reminding her about the things I?d done
Then you claimed I had not changed
You said I was still very angry
I said under the circumstances how would you feel
If the only love you knew was being decided upon a moments notice
No more chasing
No more memories
No more wishing you?d come back
No more you, no more me
Last page, End of story, close the book and don?t look back
Then suddenly another memory a psychic gave your mom advice
She said you were going to have to choose between two lovers
But that moment in time had no rhyme and we just laughed it off
But as I reminded her of that time I could hear fear through a fateful sigh
then suddenly everything in my mind began to flicker
Like a candle blowing in the wind
My mind my soul prepared to let go
Like an addiction that feeds off the regret
No more chasing
No more memories
No more wishing you?d come back
No more you, no more me
Last page, End of story, close the book and don?t look back
Another reel of my memory plays
Like sitting in a dark room with a tv on and remote in hand
Skipping through the channels
And watching each clip
She said I have to call you back
but I already knew what the answer would be
It was in her voice when that moment became a reality.
She buckled under pressure and I was out of the picture
No more chasing
No more memories
No more wishing you?d come back
No more you, no more me
Last page, End of story, close the book and don?t look back
Our break up was resentful
Unfortunately it was all based on a lie
And for six years she hated me
However she never really knew the truth why
And as one last image begins to float away like a balloon
I see the engagement ring and the party
I see what could have been, should?ve been but is not going to happen
I see you on face book with two kids and an illegitimate husband
No more chasing
No more memories
No more wishing you?d come back
No more you, no more me
Last page, End of story, close the book and don?t look back
TwentyFabelThree
TwentyFabelThree
Viewpoint Of The Fish
.<
Invariably life is surmounted and over come with obstacles designed to amuse
the abusers among the men the users of the clay to mold the old and make them
pay for unimagined hurts inflicted by society when for all the world to see the hurt
inscribed on them my enemy is nill and voided null and jointed separately
intended to become a monument of mediocre missing intentions faltering
commotions ending in so much incidental indentations of the misery of
man. "Well-informed people know it is impossible to transmit the voice over
wires and that were it possible to do so, the thing would be of no practical
value." - Editorial in the Boston Post (1865) This has always been attributed to
Thomas Alva Edison what he Rally said was this “To invent, you need a good
imagination and a pile of junk.” Referring of course to the poetry list of the
CharlaxAndroidSevenOne. The small boy was angry at us the fishermen we two
were men and strong and using bits and pieces of the little ones to catch some
larger for the skillet to add to beans we needed FISH and not just minnows we
could eat. “The fish feel pain” is what the boy said “just like humans do.” “NO”
both the eye and my friend agreed “they do not feel the same as you as eye as
we.” My friend became morose and actually tossed his minnows back and eye
grabbed all my pieces of the fish that eye was using just for bait and tossed as
far into the pond as fish could fly away from me the boy was not so easily undone
and mollified he wept and my friend tried to help him to get over it and frowning
eye was sorry for the day and beans we ate and beans we stayed and then eye
dared to make the complaint. “BOY is crazy we need to eat.” If you want to add to
this meal old man just go to the field and gather up some green onions eye have
plantered them in haste but they are long enough for yew to eat today. Hurriedly
eye rushed between the raindrops to get at the vegetables and then we
smashed the beans and made them into refried. The onions we ate as aside
dish was full of skillet mess
wait
my fabels is long but iff ewe love mee ewe will go now to part two
How could it be!? I was sinking deep in sin, choosing a life that was never made for me.
I grew up in a Christian family, in a household filled with morals, values and we lived happily.
Many of you know bits and pieces of my story. I want you to know that my soul slipping behaviours brought me no glory.
It all started when I was neglected and abandoned by the one I loved the most.
I couldn’t understand why and I still don’t know, but it is no fun when your best friend becomes a ghost.
Consequently, I grew cold, bitter, devastated, and torn with each passing day. I was hurt to the core and I could feel my soul slowly slip away.
When I tried to make sense of what was happening then, I thought to myself, “I’ll quit being the good guy. Let me get even!”
After a while I was determined to ‘live it up “not knowing that I was only hurting myself. My life started to spiral out of control and it seemed like there was no defense.
Why did I search for love in all of the wrong places? Why did I break the hearts of innocent faces!?
I thought all men were evil because I thought I didn’t deserve what had happened to me. I cried many nights, threw many pity parties.
I am happy I survived in this period of time because I would have died and not see my Saviour divine.
But I thank God for praying parents who gave me a good Godly heritage. My slippery soul reflected on each and every positive message that I have heard throughout the years. I could no longer act as though I didn’t care.
A caring network of friends offered valuable support. I was not alone. I pledged to share my story as a praise report!
I became determined, this time, to stay grounded in my faith. I bumped up my prayer life and saturated my life with the Word of God; I had to rid myself of hate.
I recommitted my life to Jesus Christ who cleansed and made me whole.
Sometimes God allows the heart to break in order to heal the soul.
I never doubted that He would help me to let go of all the hurt and pain. More importantly, I learned to forgive myself and the offender because there was more to gain.
I am who I am because of what I’ve been through. He delivered this soul slipper and He can do the same for you!
...He struck with the gunstock, smashed the man’s teeth,
then dropped the weapon and ran hurriedly,
Indians saw him, three of them gave chase,
he dashed for the woods in a deadly race.
Around him the woods were filled with the yells
of men and women, fleeing like himself,
cut down or captured, to be sold as slaves
up north in Quebec, where war captives paid.
He tripped over roots, he ducked behind trees,
and ever behind him came their swift feet,
for hours he ran, his lungs howling,
yet still he heard the bastards following.
But there were less feet now, two sets of them,
he heard ragged breaths coming from both men,
he heard words that he could not understand,
bits and pieces of the sound as he ran.
He came to a stream, rock-choked and rapid,
behind a large boulder mid-stream he hid,
and picked up a rock the size of his foot,
against a musket it wouldn’t do much good.
But by the creek’s edge he heard angry shouts,
between the two men, there could be no doubt,
they were arguing from the tone of their words,
were they thinking this more work than its worth?
One threw up his hands, started walking north,
the other cursed him, and walked down the shore,
looking for tracks, still focused on his prize,
how near Ned was he did not realize…
Until Ned leapt out, hurled the rock at his head,
it hit and the man slumped to the riverbed.
Ned sprinted for him, slammed down with both fists,
then jerked the brave’s head in a brutal twist.
The man went lax, fell into the water,
Ned took his gun, his knives and his powder,
waited not a moment, kept going south,
as fast as his battered frame would allow.
He reached Fort Edward come the next morning,
other survivors had come, trickling,
hundreds of souls dead in the massacre,
the British claimed Montcalm had broken his word!
News spread quite far of the great treachery,
cries of horror at the French perfidy,
in the colonies it was soon to be said
that a surrender would just leave you dead.
Montcalm himself was soon in a hard place,
his native allies saw him as a disgrace
tor trying to temper their victory
many of them left, his numbers did bleed...
CONCLUDES IN PART V.