Long Bottom Poems
Long Bottom Poems. Below are the most popular long Bottom by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bottom poems by poem length and keyword.
Like a yarn spindle was she
Pear shaped_ bottom heavy
Born with honey colored hair and very fair
Loved by her mother and her father's pride
Life was good in their loved filled little home
Soon another maiden fair
Joined the family clan
Just like an aunt was she with raven colored hair
Blessed with hour-glass figure danity hands and feet
The spindle and hour-glass
Enjoyed hours of play
Dreaming at times of who they would become one day_
Would they marry their knight in shining armor?
Would they become a star?
Surprise of surprises shortly in the future
Another little doll came to the home to dwell
Porcelian Doll dressed in pink with tresses of red
A new toy for the sisters this delicate doll
Light ivory complexion and green eyes so coy_
What would fate issue_lives of successes?
Or would life destroy the sisters with different tresses?
Sponsor: Jeremy Martain
Contest: Objectify me
The top has always been nothing but rough and tumble.
But things really started to get bad when the bottom began to crumble.
Race and gender have always needed to have been handled carefully.
Now it's catching fire because they've been multiplied by fifty.
War and peace are pressure cookers when they are handled by the selfish and the thrifty.
Politics and chaos exist in a pot that is always being stirred.
But now it is boiling over because the definition of rights is being blurred.
A shout is responded with a shout.
Morality is on its way out.
It seems as if stone cold affection is what we are about.
Intervene or the blood lust will continue.
And it will only be but a while before the wolves rule over you.
Empires have come and gone for millennia.
If brotherly love cannot prevail, our tears will flow into Oceania.
And we will be saying goodbye, to the United States of America.
I landed on the bottom of the deepest lake on earth
My will to live had escaped me
Eyes wide shut, tho my spirit remained
Confused in death, much as in life
Green specs of membrous memories floated under my eyelids
Happy thoughts- skipping flat, smooth, dolomite discs
Into Lake Superior, screaming "watch me, watch me"
To mom & dad vigilant on the picnic bench above me
Nodding their heads
Eliciting roars of approval at 7-8-9 skips
Before losing speed, distance and the will to go on
Letting go, travelling to some distant universe
Where another can hold such wonder in their hands
Where another
Can hold such wonder
In their hands
11/29/18
The night was dark,
the night was deep.
I was standing next to the ocean,
listening to your cries as you all were drowning in the race.
I too took a jump into the water so cold.
Soon, I realized I was at the bottom of the floor.
I pushed myself as hard as I could,
but the ocean currents opposed my motions and made me slow.
I prayed to God to give me a second chance.
I again tried reaching up to the surface,
but soon I realized
I would be hated by the same faces.
Once again, I decided to set myself free,
but this time I was tied by my own lies,
hanging by the strings of my own expectations.
And yes, once again, I knew that these were my own creations.
Goodbye.
beyond any horizon lies all reality
energy centred in tantra and chakras
even when one cannot see the light
it remains faithfully by one’s side
glow in the dark he reminded himself
life is impermanent but the moment is here
from root to the crown of redemption
serene and free from distilled solutions
once he prised open that door of change
darkness felt comfortable for the gift of recovery
offered miraculous promises and sober composure
it softened the blow of a dangerous rock bottom
today he received the ability to accept what is
things that cannot be changed by willpower alone
and that faith is a valuable companion
to make any hole shine away from perceived its shadows
When I'm free, I will ride the wind,
I will descend with a raindrop,
I will tumble with leaves,
I will ride on a ray of sunlight.
I will know what it's like to fly,
I will flutter with a snowflake,
I will sparkle in the morning dew
and dive into a waterfall.
I will slide on a moonbeam,
I will sing with angels and
talk to eagles.
I will touch the bottom of the ocean,
I will drink from a silver fountain.
I will look into the eyes of a wolf,
and walk through a mountain.
I will swirl in the morning mist,
rising from the valley,
and the scent of a rose will carry me,
when I'm free.
Remember...Remain Calm, Collected, And Cool...
Matthew Scott Harris...ARG
This, a near imp
possible mantra to apply
when this 2009
Macbook Pro went awry
triggering this enduser
to experience tidal waves of high
anxiety, which besieged this fie
foo fighting dirt po' pa well nigh,
who might need buy
another laptop, yet my
anorexic checking account
on life support, no lie
could not afford, (to sigh
phone even one red cent,
all because ordinary healthy
electrons deployed aye
did NOT see usual expected
predictable apple luck
quiche hun activity via my
left and right eye,
yours truly did not espy
usual kickstarting linkedin magic after
preliminary electronic setup
unexpectedly failed to start -
no idea why
unbeknownst tummy, what
ghost in the machine didst defy
programming code of honor,
whereby pixel display
unexpectedly exhibited "abnormal"
computer behavior -
like a turncoat ally
meaning one hoop wrest
illegally start button signaling
subatomic warfare unleashing - guy
did missiles as taught
during routine training
to turn bot tin down stevedores
loose on the Jobs (dan-g) rather, I
watched slack jawed,
as that very singularly narrow
vertical lined band width
(analogous to a medium black
sabbath tipped magic marker)
did NOT display
prestidigitation instantaneous flash
demarcating binary DMZ
(demon mailer zone,
viz dividing screen in half, -
versus top to bottom array), qua
incomplete automatic
initialization stopped
partway thru automatic preparation,
after which cryptic
error message appeared,
which malfunction found me
bursting with damned tears,
and ready to cry,
(which gush of tear
rivalled Hurricane Florence),
cuz mechanical and/or
application so much
of my creative
write minded person
(reed literary) self choked life vie
ability to live, thus the only alternative
...insane asylum to apply!
--------------------------------
SPOILER ALERT...
postscript: after some fluke brought
desk top in view, the quick thinking
chap attached an external drive to a
USB port, and thus breathed easier
knowing a backup got made.
for years i had learned to hold him down
swore i would never bring him around
dug a big hole and threw him in
never looked back , a new life had begun
gonna live right for you , and the kingdom that i knew
but on that day , just like any other day
woke up to the fleeting thought
of how it used to be , got cought up in the same old guy
the ground was breached , the ole man cried
free at last , i bought the lie
for it was the time my soul would die
and now the old man sighed
i have freely given into this guy
who was so wrong that it felt alright
and now he is taken over
my light is fading slower
in the glow of my redeemer
seems all is lost , from a pit i was tossed
as i looked at this rockey bottom
i realize that i have not forgotten
the creator of the heavens and the earth
by your hand you lift me up
it was you who never gave up
when i thirst you gave me your cup
and i say i need you now
on my knees i fall apart
from this point i make a start
to forgive myself and bury the old man again
with you i finally make my stand
so when he lifts his old guy head
breach the ground of the dead
it is you i will lean on
for the old man was here
now he is gone
i am free
From within the frost-frozen, bare-boarded, shed
within its loosely hung zee-braced door agape
the spring light peeked.
Warming the woodsheds King’s pine planks
toasting the ten penny nails
popping the planks to a toe-stubbing height.
Door slamming dashes through the obstacle course of cord,
tinder, rake and hoe;
to the semi attached outhouse.
Draws half down,
butt bitten by March’s wind;
the two holer waits, lye bucket at the base.
Curled, yellow-brown, newspaper pages from 1890,
the shade of Uncle George’s pipe stained teeth, wiggle in the wind;
as do I when with a holler as
breeze to bottom freeze dries.
A half flashed mad dash to the kitchen door
is halted; awestruck at the gapping door to the kitchen garden.
Raspberry-red, tit tipped rhubarb buds and stalks,
warmed by the sheltered spring sun;
set my mouth to drool.
A waylaid girl child in transit.
Though I'm shattared flat, my soul critically wounded, predicament of my life, this state hinders my whole. The life in me, sucked pinch by pinch, I wish to cry my pain out but tears refuse to depart my eyes
collision and confusion of scattered emotions, traped inside me, the strength in me drained, the strain my faith faced with, how low and heavy is my soul, there's no much in me to bear
the last stroke of light as it passes me by and piece by piece, I'm consumed by darkness, this dark tide of cloud hovering over me, brings blockage and paralysis to my expression, I feel a grave with a lifeless body inside my body, I wanna move but I can't feel my whole body, it feels worse than death, I have hit a rock bottom
#Poetic_Ink