Long By inches Poems
Long By inches Poems. Below are the most popular long By inches by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long By inches poems by poem length and keyword.
Burpsey that's my name,
Burping is my favorite game!
Burps are my art,
Better than a fart!
Burps are my fancy.
Forever with a grin,
They find away,
My teeth can't hold them in!
I open my mouth and out it roars,
My burps can knock you to the floor!
I can let out soft little burps,
To tease you along.
Short tuney burps,
Almost a song!
Unfortunately,
When I get home,
My burps and parents don't get along!
My mother pleads,
My father grieves.
"Can't you shut the door?"
At diner they will say,
"If you're going to burp,
Please go away!"
I try very hard to hold my burps in.
But I know when it's time,
The burps always win.
The burps are so fierce,
They're not allowed in the house.
As sounds escape from my mouth,
When grandparents come to stay,
"Bad manners", says my mom.
"You put me to shame!"
I have no one else to blame!
When my tummy begins to growl,
Bubbles forming in my throat,
I run for the door,
To let the burp out!
Blew the door off its hinges,
Left the light hanging by inches!
I ran outside,
Lucky to be alive!
Went down to the lake to make my escape.
Ducked my head in the water to let the burps relate.
Unknown at the time,
I saved the fleet,
From whales that where hungry and ready to eat!
Burped out an SOS,
When a baby fell to the ground!
Rescued a cat hanging upside down,
My burp righted him up and we got him to the ground!
Now folks are glad that I am around!
Is it fair that youth is beauty
That the best we can ever be
Is before we are twenty three
Why can't a wrinkle be sexy
Who says grey hairs are icky
Contact lenses are too tricky
Comfort and ease of eyeglasses
Tri focal eyeglasses
But why, but how, when
Did youth escape and old fogey begin
The burden of life's responsibilities
The worry of offspring indeed
The need for success
The desire to impress
That weather our smooth silky skin
Into worn leather feel rough and thin
Tooth loss and baldness
Nose hairs and body aches
Disease and numbness
Hot flashes and body shakes
Dimming of senses
Enlargement of ears
Shrinking by inches
New things are fears
Tired blood and blue veins
Forgetting whats her name
Corns and bunions
Yelling at them youngins
Jello instead of steak
Maalox replaces milkshakes
Eat dinner at four asleep by nine
Can't believe the speed of time
Is it fair that youth is beauty
Why can't being old be better
Then aches from change of weather
To using a cain instead of raising it
Gumming a steak until you can't spit
Just think how sexy you will be
If you finally reach forty three
Lets change our perspective
Not be so narrowly selective
Enough of the smooth shapely firm
Cute bouncing buns we had and yearn
Let's hear it for the pale faded
Wrinkled saggy way nature made it
Posteriors of the more mature crowd
On second thought without my glasses
Youth is beauty
Enjoy while its yours
McGee's oldest son, graduated from school
But McGee wished he had more ambition
Instead of a doctor, a Lawyer or Cop
He became an astute, dietitian
But, all in all McGee was still proud
And happy his son was now home
Took him out to the pub for a meal
And a pint with a nice head of foam
As soon as McGee's butt hit the chair
Said the Barmaid "I'll take your order"
"For me a pint and a good Irish stew"
But his son, orders salad and water
McGee taken back, said "What is this now ?"
"Now Dad just let me explain,
Red meat is a poison that'll kill you in time
It gums up blood in your veins"
McGee thought a moment, then whispered quite soft
There's something, my son you should know
"I think you are right, cause I'm dying by inches
From something I ate long ago"
His son was alarmed as he grabbed McGee arm
"Please tell me---- for heavens sake"
"It's hard to admit but I'm sure it was it
A slice of me own wedding cake".
HERO'S DESTINY
Love is hero's destiny, though a blind faith
But a noble cause,
A dedication without premeditated consideration
Which leads to a pleasant misfortune.
Love is hero's destiny, though a mission impossible,
A proud and brave feat
But a phase of dying by inches
Which makes the casualty born-again afterwards.
Love is hero's destiny, though a life time voyage
But a fatal experience
Which could lead to a fatal catastrophe with injuries
That could claim a life or exert lasting scars
Love is hero's destiny, though a voracious appetite
But a perpetual starvation
And worrisome moods if penniless
Which is an impulse to invite intrigues.
Love is hero's destiny, though a whole time job
And a transportable disturber
Which create a never ending suffering,
A death in harness and what not.
Love is hero's destiny, though a phenomenon undefined
But a lost fool's paradise
And also proud sensations like ******
Which enslaves or elope with the mind:
It is a flowing river and there is no way out.
May heavens bless the true lovers with solace and comforts!
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright ©2013.
—After the Reasons Are Gone
The morning held its breath.
Cold iron rail of dawn,
air tasting faintly of dust and leaf-mould.
Somewhere a gate complained;
somewhere water counted stones.
I stood where the path once decided things
and now only stood.
The sun rose wrong—
a cracked egg tone, pale yolk leaking
through thin cloud,
light smelling of metal.
It touched the roofs, then withdrew,
as if remembering an appointment
elsewhere.
I felt it on my knuckles,
then not.
Wind moved the hedges by inches.
A bird rehearsed and stopped.
I adjusted my sleeve;
the gesture meant nothing
and meant it fully.
Then a bus passed.
In its window,
a damsel’s lucent eyes
met mine—
and the glimmer sparked
like a live wire
brushed by accident—
brief,
and already too late.
The bus kept moving.
The eyes did not.
They traveled farther than the bus,
carried a heart with them,
and let it slip out—
light,
unclaimed—
onto the road beside me.
By then the sun was gone entirely.
Only weather remained:
coolth on the tongue,
the faint oil-slick sheen of asphalt,
my breath learning its own pace again.
I bent, not to retrieve anything—
only to see
what stays
when nothing calls it.
Some weird stranger came up behind me
with a machete and lopped off my head
It rolled away,
down an embankment,
landing in a ditch of wet soggy leaves.
It was cackling that crazy laugh I have when I am nervous,
not realizing it was dead.
I ran after it, and plopped it back into place,
but it had lost some neck muscles, and it fell off again.
I chased it as it tumbled across the highway,
missing a black truck by inches. The weird stranger
was running in the other direction now.
I could not see him go. My eyes were gone.
My soggy angry head was yelling at me now.
“You are dead stupid!”
This made me mad, so
I kicked it into the back forty.
Then I stomped back up the
hill, determined to catch and
kick the weird stranger.
I will teach him for making
me dead.
Sins of a father
While younger we were running, to what we did not know.
Quick to love, fast at play, a canvas white as snow.
But as we grew in knowledge and taller by the day
cracks they began showing, a chasm in the way
you fought for us how you knew how, working to the bone
I never said I wasn’t grateful for providing us a home
What I needed was a sounding board, someone who could hear
Someone who would take the time, to lend me just an ear
Instead I felt I walked alone, I made my own mistakes
Some choices led to chaos, and others tranquil lakes
What hurt me most while suffering and feeling all alone
You made it all about you, instead of picking up the phone
I’ve tried many times to build, different styles of bridges
No matter how far I got, it seemed I always missed by inches
With nothing built upon your bank, from what I could see
Yet still you spoke on my behalf, as if you knew me
I have other things to build now, I too have kids at home
I too have neglected them, by working to the bone
The cracks I see them coming, though the chasms not yet here
I pray that I can close them up, by listening while their near
Patience is a virtue, one that I rarely saw used
I must now forge another way, there’s still too much to lose
The sins of the father, are passed to the next one
I hope with mine I bridge the gaps, and grow old with my son
Wrapped around both my lung
There's an empty space for someone's arms
To pull me into the most loving hug
Gentle and Safe, the kind that makes you warm
I wish you would notice the necklace I wear
Glinting like a heartbeat in the sun
I never take it off, I swear
It's from my great grandma, miss her a ton
There is a barrier, I'm locked in a room
Laughter surrounds me but never reaches
I desire it but can never consume
It rings in my ears like siren screeches
Somehow silence feels heavier
When you wish it would just say your name
People say it gets easier
But I don't think the weight is the same
I press my silver cross where your eyes should have been
Did you even notice I noticed you wear that shirt every Thursday
If I stopped caring this much it would feel like a sin
You ignore every detail while I watch that shirt fray
That girl with blonde hair, her perfume lingers like betrayal
The smell aches in my chest
It leaves this permanent trail
It lands on her blouse but where is the rest
Your breath fogs up a window no one looks into
You draw a messy heart to replace the one missing
Only this one doesn't beat, to be fair only few do
As the fog fades it's like the cold and dew are kissing
The streetlights pool on each sidewalk
Yet every bit of gold misses me by inches
The buzzing draws you in like a stop sign says stop
Every heavy step wakes you up like someones pinches
The puddles catch me in half light
Like proof I exist, but barely
When did your own existence become the most haunting sight
I miss when I felt I was flying like a fairy
Now I just fall as slow as a feather
Yet the weight could crush ships in the sea
Crashing down like waves in harsh weather
I can't even explain what I perceive
A fresh start, a new day, a sun I have never seen
I bounce out of bed, clearing the dog by inches.
She has no idea.
We run toward the front door to feed the cat.
There are new butterflies out there, ones I have never seen
Crisp, clean, yellow and orange autumn butterflies.
The hummingbirds are gone.
The forest is losing her leaves.
The day is magical; I feel a hopefulness I never felt before.
Today is the first day of the rest of my story.
I can throw my old chapters onto the road
To be smashed by trucks.
This is the first day.
My first day.
My heart begins to dance
Starting this second I begin my new book.
This morning, my yard was hopping
with squirrels and rabbits busily shopping
for pine needles, berries, and cones,
perfumes, oils, and sweet colognes,
to entice partners for this evening's bebopping.
The fox said to the wolf in a huff.
"We're making this problem way too tough.
You take that goat, Sandie,
and I'll take that lamb, Randy.
And we'll split Porks, if that ain't enough."
There was some tumultuous to do
in the pouch of mommy kangaroo.
The twins were jumping and springing,
doing summersaults and singing,
making mommy kangaroo ~ so blue.
Tiny birds scooting across the street,
hopping on their three-toed, little feet.
A car misses them by inches ~
they'd be dead if they were finches!
Tiny birds! Get off the street! Tout sweet!
I chanced on a cat as big as a bear
who was all covered in grizzly, brown hair.
He was cornered by a mouse
as big as a house!
And guess who there was trembling in fear.
"You look like a million bucks
in your elegant white tux,"
said the ravenous wolf to a lamb.
"But though you look pretty in it,
don't think for a minute
I'm not gonna eat you, cuz I am."
Two smart crows peck at a road-kill cat,
plucking bits of liver, lungs, and fat.
Crow one inquires of crow two:
"How's this feline tasting to you?"
"Much finer than last week's sewer rat."
A third of the ducklings is three,
waddling behind Mama Shérie.
If a duck is a bird,
and three is a third,
how many birds do you see?
Life in this big old fishbowl
was never quite completely whole,
till Wally the walrus
came to dwell among us,
and gave this fishbowl some soul.
Oh, kiddies, please be alert!
Here live dangerous dragons that squirt
all manner of green ire
and orangy hell fire,
and if you get hit, you’ll be hurt.