Long Bottle Poems

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


Premium Member The Pepperman and One Hell of a Circus

I OPENED A DOOR TO A CIRCUS EVENT.
A VERY BIZARRE CIRCUS EVENT.
THE RING MASTER MADE HIS WAY TO THE CENTER RING,
ESCORTED BY 2 LOVELY YOUNG LADIES,
GLITTERING IN NOTHING MORE THAN DIAMOND DUST.
GOOD AFTERNOON LADIES AND GENTLEMEN,
BOYS AND GIRLS FROM AROUND THE UNIVERSE.
WELCOME TO MY CIRCUS OF IMAGINATION.
WERE THERE ARE NO RULES AND REGULATIONS.
I AM YOUR HOST, THE DAPPER RING MASTER.
BRINGING YOU JOY BY SUPPLYING DISASTER.
LOOK HIGH ABOVE THE CIRCUS FLOOR.
WHERE YOU CAN SEE A DRUNKEN WHORE.
SHE'LL ATTEMPT CROSSING THE WIRE,
TURN AROUND AND COME BACK.
YOUR GUARANTEED TO HEAR A GREAT SPLAT.
WITHOUT FURTHER ADIEU, LETS SHINE THE LIGHTS.
TO INCREASE THE DANGER MAKE SURE THEY'RE BRIGHT.
LET'S HEAR IT FOR THE CIRCUS BAND.
STAND UP AND SHOUT AND GIVE THEM A HAND.
I COULD SEE A WHISKEY BOTTLE IN HER RIGHT HAND.
IT APPEARS TO ME SHE COULD BARELY  STAND.
WHEN SHE TOOK HER FIRST STEP IT WAS ALSO HER LAST.
THE HIGH WIRE ACT WAS OVER THAT FAST.
THE CROWD JUMPED UP AND STARTED TO ROAR.
THE TIGHT ROPE WALKER WAS DEAD ON THE FLOOR.
THIS IS HOW THEY STARTED THE SHOW?
I THOUGHT TO MYSELF. I THINK I SHOULD GO.
I WAS HEADED BACK TO THE PORTAL SLASH DOOR,
WHEN I HEARD THE RING MASTER DOWN ON THE FLOOR.
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN A MAN EATING LION.
SAW A MAN BEING DRAGGED WHILE SCREAMING AND CRYING.


Premium Member Ya'Ll Come Back

In those early years, growing up in the country
Walking barefoot, on old gravel roads
With neighborhood friends, a dog or two
Pulling a wagon of pop bottle gold

We were pirates, marauders, searching for treasure
In the ditches, as we walked, to the store
In simpler days, with much simpler ways
Soon, to pass in, to folklore

It had an old screen door, with a long squeaky spring
Which greeted you as you entered
Slapping shut behind you, with a distinctive,  CLAP!
Bringing the storekeeper front and center

While the old man figured, what was already known
We each grabbed a little paper sack
Just like 49'ers, digging for gold
We mined the penny candy rack

The thick gray planks, were buckled from age
Some held by a single nail
A few odd chairs, scattered about
Hosts to many an exaggerated tale

So many memories from that old porch
Telling stories and eating ice cream
Counting the cars, on the passing freight trains
Each one, hauling a different dream

Over a half a century, since those boyhood days
 But I can still hear that clicketty-clack 
Still taste the penny candy, see the old man smile
Hear him say," Thank you and ya'll come back.


    by Daniel Turner
Form: Rhyme

Forever Valentine

14th of February a day dedicated to love for centuries 
A day shared across nations and countries
For so long this day held no significance 
For what seemed like forever until you came along and made a difference

You became the roses I wished I would receive
You became the Chocolate kisses I would move mountains to retrieve
You became every love letter I hoped would be for me 
You became the message in a bottle while I was lost at sea

I believe it was for love like ours that a man gave up his life
If we lived in the 1970’s I would plead the mater for love to pronounce you my wife
A love so rare and ravishing it should be written in the paperbacks of Ballantine
14th of February a day I devote to you, be my forever Valentine
Form: Rhyme

It's In the Jeans

The young man stood at the bus stop waiting for the bus
Along came the sexiest looking young lady he ever saw  
She had on tight, stretched blue denims that marked her curves
Her shape was as the Coca Cola bottle as the saying goes

“Hi princess, can I be of any assistance to get your jeans off
I can imagine it will be a challenge for you without some help”
Smiling and blushing the young lady pass her hands over her hips
Letting the young man imaginations run wild like wild stallions

The bus came and he let her go up ahead of him, like a gentleman
She went into the nearest seat, he sat beside her claiming his territory 
“So, may I come home with you so we can discard this intrusion to your beauty?”
“Well, since you ask so nicely and you are such a gentleman, of course you may”

They got off at her stop and she led the way to her apartment’s door
His eyes never leaving her blue denim clad sexy voluptuous curves
What a treat I have tonight he thought, I will make her want me over and over
I will slowly peel off that tight blue jeans while kissing every inch of her

“Can I get you something to drink,” she ask.  “Yes, may I have a cold beer please?”
He sips his beer, she her tonic wine, while they try to get more acquainted 
With every word he says he draws closer, destroying the space between them
Finally he touches her, peeling the jeans away, the prize within his grasp

He is kissing her all over her face, lips and neck.  Not looking from the face down
Suddenly he looked to where his hands were busy.  Hello!  He is thinking.  Where 
are all the curves?
What is this I am seeing?  All the loose skin kept in by the tight blue sexy denim was 
hanging
Things did fall apart, all pun intended, because the young man ran like the devil was 
after him
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Capturing Freedom

I tried to capture this freedom
To capture it within a thought
For a time it seemed to hover 
but freedom wasn't what I got

It seems my thinking lacked feeling
True freedom I couldn't explain
My mind it became a prison
This freedom was locked in my brain

By the morning I lost my mind
I felt it slipping from my grasp
Freedom found it's true expression
When it was released from my past 

It seem that freedom is simple
It doesn't care what others think
It can't be found in a bottle
It can't be poured out like a drink

Once you have tasted its flavour
There can be no going back
Open the door just a smidgen
Freedom will provide what you lack.


Inspired by Peter Duggan.
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member Sordid Soul


Wilting in withering light
I'm afraid I lost the will to fight
Demons dance in the abyss
Between us monsters a soulless kiss

Impurities fill my mind
Perhaps how I'll be defined
Burn them like tea leaves
Nothing will be left for the thieves

I sing of all that could have been
Before the bottle and before the sin
Deep inside is the hero held down by this weight
Damned by a black fire fate

No deity ever sought to save me
So this tainted soul is all I have to set free
It brings me pain but I don't seek pity
Because the truth isn't pretty

In my hand is a blood filled chalice
Which I gaze upon with serene malice
Truthfully it's to hide the malaise
As I ready myself for the blaze

Wilting in withering light
I'm afraid I lost the will to fight
Demons dance in the abyss
As I meet the flame's fateful kiss

Two Lovers

Can these true lovers ever meet?
Can these Two lovers ever meet?
When they are trapped in an enchanted bottle
What I like
Is not her type
What I need
She despise
Open up eyes
And she see an hideous me
I ran away
I am now a tree
Can these two lovers ever meet?
Can these two lovers ever meet?


Can these two lovers ever meet?
Can these two lovers ever meet?
I said mean things to break her heart
Acted like a moron from the start
Talk about politics
And all those things that men do
I thought I was wise
I never knew I was a fool
So now i am sober
I just want to be cool
Can these two lovers ever meet?
Can these two lovers ever meet?
Form: Rhyme

Fartastically Yours

"Fartastially yours," he says as he shoots them out like a gun 
I pinch my nose in disgust and then I speed out like a bullet 
"honey I went hard as a rock," he whines, " think I lost a ton" 
sticking my head out the door, " it must have been the mullet,  
"Fart-tastic, Fantastic " he croons,  " hurry go get the skillet " 
we can cook them and feed them to the Browns, hon ...

Theres a knock at the door and I open it, its Louise Oh God ! 
from the bathroom he hollars " honey let her in, its fine " 
"I've come to borrow a bottle of wine" she says, "for Claude"
sorry Lou, my husband is unwell and we drank up all the wine 
sniffing around she asks " did you cook rotten fish Adeline?" 
yes I did but now Jerry is in the can and its not a good sign 

"Fart-astic Fantastic" he muisicalizes, " "fresh as they come"
I sigh and then I close the door, then I lay dead on the floor 
he giggles n' shakes " oh the things that come out of my bum
that night I open a can of beans,  " think I'll even the score" 
the next day it is I who is tootin' it out with putrid air hums 
Fart-tastic, fantastic" I  chant as I vibrate, my musical door.  

September 22, 2021 

Sponsor	Chantelle Anne Cooke
Contest Name	Fart-tastic
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member These Old Boots

These old boots, they've sure been around. They don't know where their goin' but they sure know where they've been. Drinkin' Corona and dancing with a Mexican Senorita in Jaurez, the smell of perfume and Tequila fill the air. Gracias for the good time, but these old boots got to go. Hitched a ride on an old cattle truck to El Paso, my Stetson blocking the sun and hiding my bloodshot eyes. Throwing cow chips at an old wooden fence, I count the $100 dollars I just made at the slaughter house, the foreman said "you work like that you'll make good money boy". "Thanks, but these old boots got to go" I said. "That $100 dollars sure went fast", I told the deputy as he unlocked the gate at the jail sitting in downtown Amarillo smoking a Marlboro with my thumb in the air, thinkin', these old boots got to go. Tired and weary, I got a motel room for $50 bucks I made on a sway-back horse in a low-class rodeo outside Albuquerque but don't remember much about last night other than the empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the table. Dippin' in a can of Kodiak, I'm thinking to myself, these old boots got to go. That Budweiser sure did taste good after bailing hay in the snow in Durango, as night fell pickin' my guitar as the cowgirls on the dancefloor cut a rug. I thought to myself, the good times don't last forever so these old boots got to go. I've been a lot of things' and nonthin at the same time, money in my pocket and a liquor bottle, I roll on down the road like a tumbleweed blowing in the wind. Back in big sky country, the prairie grass sways in the breeze casting shadows on my tombstone. Hard work and hard drinkin' caught up to me, but I had fun y'all, these old boots got to go...........

Premium Member Pure Inspiration

There once was a feline who howled and whined
Resembling a babe bawling in its prime
All the day and night long,  it shrieked and cried
They told me of the psycho cat’s demise
~~~
Then there was a virus that brought us down
Left hearts floating gently through evergreens
Tossed our spirits all around this small town
Sabbatical dreams after quarantine
~~~
From seas ran liquid deep, silent and free
Beckoning the shore for more composure
Freeing souls to reach out to the morrow
Eerie boardwalk creaks near the white sand beach
~~~
Falling softly through the warmth of sweet faith
Music whispers to my ear from wind’s grace
Singing secrets so clear I feel muse’ praise
The label I hide on the wine bottle
~~~
Pure Inspiration!







Collaborate with me Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Rodrigues 
September 16, 2020
Form: Verse

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