Long Bitting Poems

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


City Fire Sparks

A scratching at dusty glass from piano keys

In a lace attic catacombs chests
bathed in blue panic 
room stained window

Hiding from the tell to show
away bitter clown faces without
makeup to disguise frowns
from smiles 

Glass of Rose wine in hand 

Half black and white 
harlequim dress worn
like princess Di

Bitting down on fretted untuned
strings

Yellow taxi clock running outside
in a traffic jam carpark

Great expectations Dickensian
clambering down unsteady 
unsafe ladders

Floor by floor at breakneck speed
scissors running in hand

Final destination paused

Star's

City , Sparks , Fire 

Takes me back melancholic
reminding me what it was
like to be a torturous teen

Dreaming of wanton love
and how fragile youth is


Nail Biting

I have been systematically bitting
my nails since I was 6 year's old 
so I am told

Sometimes way down past where
the skin begins and blood starts

And it hurts so much I can't even
pick stuff up

And yes I know it's a filthy habit and
it really hurts

I have somehow never been able to stop

So what is the explanation or only
conclusion to be gained

Am I in fact a sadist do I love pain 

1 thing is most definitely for certain
I must quite obviously be stupid
because I know what I am doing 
to myself

And even despite all this I still won't
be stopping any time soon 

Nailed it

Choked sky

The rivers cough,
Their waters grey and sulk,
With exhaustion bitting at the banks,
That once held children's laughter.
The lethargic trees wear ashes like armour,
Leaves brittle, whispering warrnings,
That no one listens to.
Drifting smoke climbing like a theif,
Stealing the blue from the sky,
Painting the sun in dull bruises, where 
We pretend not to see.
Even the weak wind carries a taste, of
Metal and sadness;
The birds sing quieter than ever,
There wings heavy with weight of
A world forgetting how to breath.
Yet somewhere beneath the ground the
Earth still hums softly,
Waiting for hands that will not choke it.
For mouths that will speak before the last
River sleeps.
© Frdos Azad  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Sat here lonely in the dark

Sat here lonely in the dark
Mood so low, iv lost my spark
No joy from the little things
My mind black when the birds sing

Always stuck on what to say
I wish this illness would go away
Bored as can be, concentration zero
How do I go from zero to hero?

Can't say the words I want to say
They come out jumbled anyway
Insomnia hitting hard
I wish my life was like a hallmark card

Trying to watch TV to unwind
It's so difficult when your stuck in your mind
Withering away piece by piece
I have so much I need to unleash

Bitting a stick to stop the agitation
Any loud sound is an aggrevation 
Hospital or wait that's my choice
Death feels like something I could rejoice 

Darkness follows even in the light
The body always in fight or flight
Cortisol low, body breaking 
The rest of my life is mine for the taking 

Sat here lonely in the dark
This relapse has really left its mark
Another weekend of trying to survive 
I am still grateful I'm alive

But when the darkness takes over 
It leaves my mind to over exposure 
Dark thoughts flood the mind
My life becoming hard to find

Sadness is a dangerous feeling
It's your whole life it is stealing
Sat here lonely in the dark 
Bipolar really has left its mark

Come find me if you must
I'll be in the window turning to dust
Another weekend battle to fight
Fight it I will with all my might

Sat here lonely in the dark
Come and find me if you must
© Gogster Dw  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Loving Myself

Loving Myself

I miss him playing with my toys.
I’m alone now in my bed looking 
out my window at the silver stars. 

My hand stroking them while my mind is
 
remembering, remembering. 
He used to teased by kissing  
them. 
 
He knew their secret places.
He would talk to them while our bodies
Glistening with moister ready, ready.

I with anticipation waiting, waiting.
My toy’s hair moist with oils of love, 

thinking how he used his mouth. 

Cleaning matted hair “tasting the sea’s bounty”, 
As he used to say. 

Feeling him inside my juguete and the
Tingling, the itch please hurry.  

Wanting him deeper, deeper oh heaven above!
  
Now bitting them,  Yesssss, he’s almost 
here.

Fingers deep rocking and twisting until erupting
with waves upon waves soaking his bounty. 

Red golden stream flowing from my volcano
releasing stored hot magma just for him.

I fall asleep knowing he will return whenever I
want.


Dead of the Corn

Said through clenched pallet cleft

Straight right out of left field 

Came the wind a calling for a
sacrificial sacrifice

To appease the dog god's of war
straining and bitting to be unleashed

Upon the fallen led astray and breached

From some or other unknown entity
but quite obviously sent from high
on up

If for no other reason than to make
the numbers of today's death count up 

Why on earth I do not know that wasn't
part of the deal

The deal was simply this if you don't
or are not prepared to choose amongst
and between yourselves

Then we will simply have to go ahead
and do it for you as you see we currently
are

For if you build it we will come and the
price for coming is

Dying dead then death not everlasting
breath

Choked sky

The rivers cough,
Their waters grey and sulky, with exhaustion,
Bitting at the banks that once held,
Children's laughter.
The lethargic trees wear ashes like armour,
Leaves brittle, whispering warnings
That no one ever listens to.
Drifting smoke climbing like a their,
Stealing the Blue from the sky,
Painting the sun in dull bruises,
Where we pretend not to see.
Even the wind carries a taste of metal and sadness;
The birds sing quite than ever,
There wings heavy with weight 
Of a world forgetting how to breath.
Yet somewhere beneath the ground
The earth still hums softly,
Waiting for hands that will not choke it;
For mouths that will speake
Before the last river sleeps.
© Frdos Azad  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Praying Manny

Look at olé Manny over there.
He's been praying for grown back hair.

Hair back 
Back hair

Hair is neither here nigh under where.

At night we pray for tight'ee whites;
Following morning awaken by a huge wedgie wearing panties.

Shake it off and tone it down. 
Take it easy now, now. 
Hold your horses there pray full man.

Eating tiger sporting a lions mane feeding heads.
I said, I see I said, I taw a pudgy fat hippy cat rocking dreads.

Looking like a praying mantis crossed with a giraffe.  
Bitting your toungue, covering your mouth; trying not to laugh,
You see poor olé Manny with a blank look of dismay. 
Holding tightly onto his toupee on another windy day. 

Even today, he continues to pray as he slumps in his chair.
And people just don't understand why because Manny is amazing with or without grown back hair. 


8~21~16
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Majesty Queen Elizabeth Heavy Lies the Crown

Hear Yee , Hear Yee

Elizabeth "The' Queen

Here she lie's dead in state entombed
in saintly grace

Her smile as is her likeness of she no more

Send her forth victorious in resplendent
elegance riding sidesaddle upon an 
equine train bitting on the bridle 

To spirit her soul away duties levies paid
in full to all bar none subject come 

Rest in peace , rest full well , rest in
everlasting ease complete 

Blow the trumpets way up on high
let the bugle's cry and pipes a
pipes a play

Unfurl the pageantry and banners of all
ages fly the royal standard at half mast 
all around the 4 corners of her Commonwealth 

And pray let her know she is in no
small part sorely already missed 

And sadly I fear will be for many a long
year to come 

So God speed your Majesty on this your
final cavalcade 

From reign to grave

As surely he awaits 

Most patiently an audience with thee

Your Queen ordained keeper , leader,
defender of the faith 

She who's head deemed worthy to be
placed underneath to bear the heaviest 
burden of the Regal Crown

Pillow

Pillow :
Cotton soft and oh so warm
Here I will wait for bitting dawn,
For my bed is cold as winters night,
No comfort will i find tonight.
Don't let anybody tie you down with the illusion that they still care
Or that they've changed
Or that they'll never love anybody as much as they loved you
Because those are just other ways to get you to wake up with regret clawing out all you've ever stood for
And when you try to get out of that pit that they made to devote themselves to keeping you in there
You'll realize that you were nothing but a pillow to them
Nothing but a cushion
Something to use when they get pushed down
A step ladder to bring themselves back up
And finally you'll understand why you left in the first place.
By Aliza Kashmala Kiran
Form: Narrative

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