Long Bottling Poems
Long Bottling Poems. Below are the most popular long Bottling by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bottling poems by poem length and keyword.
On the canvas of my life the surface
Started out blank the moment
I was born and came into existence
Just as everyone does then, overtime
As I went through different experiences
The acrylic and watercolors of emotions
Thoughts and beliefs began to slowly
Mix and blend the beliefs that I have
To be normal just to fit in.
A little green here and blue there
Just to add some depth and dimension to
all the worries anxieties and fears.
No matter how abstract the image appears.
Charcoal for the shadows and pastels for the highlights
Sometimes it can be hard to see the horizon line of the
The present moment of every day when the 3 point perspective
Is being drawn without the guidance of a ruler.
Forget bottling up my emotions because no
Container is big enough to hold the vast majority
Of ruminated thoughts that run through my mind
The way to much paint runs down a canvas when
You add water to it.
Since each emotion can be represented by a different color
The canvas of my life is like an abstract painting of every
experience I ever dealt with, every being I ever encountered
and the energy I took on during our interaction.
I once heard that life is whatever you make of it and
You have the power to shape your own destiny.
From an artist perspective, I would say since each
And every individual begins his or her life as a blank
Canvas the paintbrushes we use to represent the tool
And the paint whether oil, watercolor or acrylic are
The choices, decisions, and results that add vibrancy
highlights, mid-tones, and shadows of our lives.
Hey dude, who do you think you can prove?
How much pull will do?
I am a man I interrupt too,
I end-zone when I feel soothed,
at the end of the day-
or just because I moved,
when the cats come through,
and then jump in the room...
Bottling brews,
and make walking the chew-
talking the soup,
raging out on the roof,
catering to the bow,
make it rain up above the snow!
For eye's that grow...
And 'you will take it slow!'
One time or another you will hit your best go-
see it in with your vote,
preaching it after it pokes...
Because limber backs just might drape,
and naughty napes just might take,
rafters may shake as they blow you away-
in a daze,
roamin' around in a craze-
in a maze...
Made up of wave's,
and hile's and hails from the betrayed!
Wondering when they will feel paid,
a price that has some prey.
So gone in the weed of the breeze,
I can now sit and pray for the pleased,
and wait on a wave to come and hit me,
so my drift will ski,
and my boredom will eat.
By: Khomotso Makitla
Wake up and smell the morning mist.
Though the morning offers sunshine and butterflies,
some bring sorrow mourning, I’m mourning.
A lion that hunts its own shadow dies of hunger.
This must be a gift,
being able to fit all my problems in a sealed jar.
Indeed, bottling my pain felt like the best decision
all my emotions numb and dull.
But be careful… I’m fragile.
One crack in the jar,
and screams will echo through the world,
painting it with pain.
Rain, rain, go away
that’s what I tell my tears.
Why do I feel fear, though I’m fearless?
Is my courage just a phase,
a feeling afraid of being caged?
I’m to blame
I paved the way for pain to leave its mark.
I cry a lot,
screaming my lungs out, begging for help.
But I’m a quokka
I smile though my heart is bleeding.
And my knees are proof
that in prayer, I lean.
Even though my life’s rhythm
is out of sync.
Remember me, the cool glass milk bottle. I used to sit on your front porch early in the morning. You could hear me arriving before the sun was up. I am a Bateson Model Dairy milk bottle, beautifully made of thick clear glass. A lot of milk bottles have been replaced with plastic but I am an expensive looking quality original. I am one of the most popular milk bottles in the area.
I came from a small processing dairy in Wingham, Ontario where the Bateson family owned and operated their business for many, many years. Working seven days a week during the very early hours bottling milk delivered from local farmers producing hundreds of bottles for their loyal customers.
Remember the wonderful clinking sound of the milk bottles arriving? Leaving out the empties represents many people’s first concept of recycling. I can remember that relatively traumatic moment when I was replaced with the carton. There was just something really wrong about pouring milk out of a carton because it didn’t have that refreshing coolness of a glass bottle. A cold bottle of milk has a certain integrity to it and the glass retains that. What a shame.
The milkman would deliver me to the door and collect the empties which held a few coins or milk tickets to pay for the fresh bottle of milk. Many conversations occurred on the stoop of each home as the family pet circled for a sniff. My travels around town went from the horse drawn milk wagon to a square van. Sometimes when the van stopped the old dog, Dina would wake up to chase a cat up a tree.
Over the years my shape has changed and my new caps gave me some upbeat fashion. But the quality of my contents stayed true. Sadly, if you show a child a glass milk bottle today he won’t know what it is. I come in many shapes and sizes, the quart, the pint, the half pint, the creamer and many more. The name printed on my side changed little over the years to keep the nostalgia of the small time dairy business.
Now I am considered an antique waiting on dusty shelves in antique shops for a new home. When you see me you may be thrilled to find a bit of history to place on the mantle of your home. You might recall childhood memories of the comforting sound of the milk man arriving at the door with fresh milk so very early in the morning.
You're strong and you deserve
All praise...
For you brightened up my days
And I can't imagine you abandoning me...
I can see our friendship last for a lifetime
I'd do anything...for you
I'd sacrifice my life...for you
I could hike Mount Everest...for you
I'd give you all that you desire
I'd walk into the fire...
for you...don't deny it - it's true
I'd walk on hot coals...for you
I'd do the impossible...for you
It's true...
I'm positively sure that
I love you...
I'd give up my life...for you
You still don't have a clue,
Do you?
You were there for me
In my times of trouble and stress
You were meant to be
My sincere friend...soaking in my distress...
Bottling up our progress
Somehow I'll prove to you
That you're a virtuous, unselfish friend to have
You make my heart thump with buoyancy
You have no clue how fortunate you make me feel
Every time you're hanging out with me...
You tell me that I look handsome -
You have no clue how that makes me feel
Every time you encourage me...
Every time you remind me of how I look,
It makes me beam with contentment...
naturally
Subway, Pirelli, Hellinic bottling company
The Citigroup Inc, Herbal life and KFC
Also the Kimberly Clark Corporation
And Hilton are a disgrace to every peace loving nation.
McDonald's have now pulled out and have stopped trading
Or they'd have been in this poem that I'm naming and shaming
Sanctions will only work if every one is on board
To cripple that evil nation we need to cut the cord.
There are probably many more and I'll add them when I see
They're all still trading in Russia, helping their economy
Haven't these companies got one ounce of shame
They're indirectly helping Russia to bomb, kill and maim.
Show support for Ukraine, show them that you care
Buy your food, drinks and services from alternatives elsewhere
I'll never buy from them again as long as I'm alive
I'd rather die of thirst and hunger rather than see their profits thrive.
A big thanks to those companies who've already severed ties
And those innocent Russians who have seen through the lies
The price of goods will rise but it's a small price to pay
To ensure freedom prevails and Putin doesn't get his own way.
Written on 8th March 2022
Today is one of the days I feel like smoke.
Choking myself.... bottling every feeling,
not allowing myself to breathe.
Covering everything with white ashes,
turning things monotonous...black and white.
I am not kerosene yet.
I am not kerosene yet...it never corrodes,
it forms impenetrable layers…
not allowing a chance for reversal.
Not letting down a breathe,
excluding from every other thing...
I am not kerosene. Yet.
I am not even wrapped in a warm blanket.
I am cold.
I'm cold.
Sitting in smoking temperatures, I am cold.
Frozen. Numb. Insensitive.
Not wrapped in a warm blanket, I sit cold.
If I picked it up
And put it in someone's hand
They would say, it's just a rock, it's not so grand
They'd examine the stone
They'd give it a look
They tell you that to pick it up, wasn't worth the effort it took
They'd have not a clue
They wouldn't see
The rock was special because we found it, you and me
A million other rocks look the same
But it was our find
Upon closer examination, just like you, it is one of a kind
It's the one we didn't pass by
the one we didn't skip or throw
Why is it special, only you and I know
It's all of the things in the rock
That people will never see
All of the dreams put in it between you and me
Dreams of a place so far away
A life shared together
Together with you, the best dream ever
In that rock
Is the feeling of our fingers as your hand reached for mine
Or how your hair blows in the breeze, the beauty sent a tingle down my spine
That rock was there
As you looked me up and down
My soul melts in those eyes, and my heart does just drown
Inside that rock
Is each footstep we took
Or how you knelt for lake glass, I couldn't help but steal a look
That rock has the knowledge
Of this secret date
It also knows that you are my soulmate
That rock holds the sorrow
Of so much time spent apart
Years of longing and aching of the heart
The rock was witness
To silently shed tears
The quiet suffering of bottling up so many fears
Sincere, True, honest love is what it holds the most
Only something as strong as a rock, could hold all of it in
I could try and explain the depth of my love, but wouldn't know where to begin
So I give you this rock
It's silly to look at, and doesn't seem like much
But hold it in your hand over your heart and you will feel its touch
Most people would want diamonds or jewels
I give you a simple stone
But in it is every emotion that we have shared or shown
So it's not just a rock
Its filled with you and me
Everything in it only you and I are lucky enough to see
He was tough, he’d been raised to be big, fit and strong,
To hide any hurt, pain or fear.
He’d prepared for this fight, bottling his feelings,
Living an unemotional atmosphere.
Then the time had arrived, a fight till the end,
He had to win this fight at any price.
His opponent knocked on his door, ready to take him on,
By casually rolling the dice.
He swung to the left and glanced to the right,
Then an uppercut straight to the chin.
Then he kicked like a soldier, a seasoned marine,
And he thought he was going to win.
But his opponent was smart, and took all of his rage,
Took it with one boxing glove.
His opponent she won, so he lay down defeated,
Defeated by that emotion called love.
Flowers grow
Sun is all aglow
I miss you, roaming by my side
Loneliness swallowed me up like a dark tide
I kiss you, something in me has died
Moon has faded
Powers jaded
Ch: Unleash the beast in my heart
Set me free before I break apart
I found you in the wilderness of my mind
I'm bound by the distress of being left behind
I drowned in my tears...I thought you were not my kind
I sense there's something wrong here
Untangle me from the weeds of misery
I shed a tear due to bottling up my fear
Breathe into me your flames of bravery
Try to understand that you're special to me
Wherever we land, we will land safely
So, darling, have no fear
For I am here...I'll be here...
Ch
I've wasted hours and hours and hours of my time, trying to explain my purpose in life
I've tainted my body with the sins I've committed so thoughtlessly
I've thrown away most of my memories of the past to live for the future and face the sting of a cutting knife
I've fainted before your sight and sought for your precious love to bring me sweet serenity
Ch
Flowers grow
Sun is all aglow
Moon has faded
Powers jaded
I miss you, roaming by my side
Where will you abide? Abide?
So, darling, have no fear
For I am here...I'll be here...
I'll be here always and forever
Even though we tread the rocky road of merciless hardship
We will not...no, we will not give up this time, for we've gained a firmer grip