Long Chews Poems
Long Chews Poems. Below are the most popular long Chews by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chews poems by poem length and keyword.
Every drop won't be enough
to bribe a heart that feels so much.
With every well dried to the bone
I forget your face and can't find home.
You warm my blood you'd be my crutch
Just take her place with care or such.
Like rubbing salt into a wound
I pour the fire from its tomb.
and now my chances just seem slim
As she watched this curse suck me right in
Your weightless lips pressed to my head.
pushed me closer to my edge.
You filled me up then drank me down.
Half full of hope for a second round.
Unscrew the skull to find your prize
Then squeeze my neck and hang me dry.
Confide your troubles in me my friend.
These walls will never speak again.
A sweetheart bittered by your taste.
Its all your fault but i won't waste.
You're loyalty to a trusted friend
who drags you to the rivers edge
then binds the boulder around your feet
and watches as you sink beneath.
To breathe your oath of self destruction
the light is bent, your in too deep.
So wield the sword you left behind
and cut the shackles, restraints, and binds.
To reach the surface and find your breath
this is not the way one should find death.
Drop the glass, for hell it sent
Or you'll drown in all that will ferment.
Soothe the fire on your tongue
or forever will your soul be numb.
Soothing are the notes you hear
when desperation's drawing near.
So strum a chord, or hum a tune
for music is what humbles you.
A racing mess, concealed in glass,
Impulsive thoughts on which we crash.
Intoxicate me, as sorrow drowns
You'll kneel before the melting crown.
That exploits your truth, feeling content
then chews your trust without consent.
Repulsive, wholesome, honest actions
multiplied by numerous factors.
Speaking without consideration
the vulnerable target for humiliation.
The symptoms sounding too cliche
ounce for ounce, it seems risque
but I accept your challenge, yet another day.
The road to freedom, faint and blurred
you ask for help, but your words are slurred.
I won't let you fool me friend.
I've fooled myself time and again.
No need to let her see me so.
Without you i would never know
what's its like to want or envy
you'll ruin all life puts before me.
I bid goodnight to an empty shelf
tomorrow anew, bring me my hell.
Scarecrow Addict
Gritted and dusty
Powered by flack jacket eyes
Bootsteps through grey puddles
Flotilla of cigarette butts
Trash kicked aside
In a desert of litter
Seeking the soulless of death
Chattering on split lips
The grimy irk of air
Festoons the rink and rack
The floating black
Sucks unbidden
Horses into battle ridden
Scream through his lungs
Broken weapons
Filled with empty bullets
Enemies in their colours run
Demon angel
Of the iridescent metal
In the bars of sculptured hell
For the hot choke of alcohol
Has squandered his nights
And burnt his will
The vengeance of mirrors
He cannot defy
He has become
The man with the gun
And rabid dog bark
Is the music
The fang gangster rap
Chews on his pride
Coughs back and spits
Too many drugs
To fill his hate
As he seethes through the alleys
The ricochet sound of poverty
Slaps hard at the cold
Whistle through the doorstep
The vicious snide crack
Scavenges his chest
Scarecrow buckshot
Trammels his lungs
And coughs up plastic
Iron girders against shattered walls
Where the whole world threw up
His sick
Chokes on the disgusting chuck up
Of need
So full of promises
But still lets in the freezing winds
To whined up urine stained
In the pallor
The colour
Of his sky
Bandit warrior and loser
This brave young man
Watched this driven and ploughed memory
Eat away
By iron vice drag
Devastate his pale haired wench
Leaving blood trailing on her breast
Pimped
She was
And hate in grey battered uniforms
Drove the callous on
And lifted him from the reeking cans
Of his desolation
Bled him through nights of sweat
And cold turkey chewed regret
The plaster wet billboard and pealing advert
Have no idea
What they have unleashed
Brittle as long dead bones
And screaming head
No longer hates
But still sneers revenge
In tattered loose rags
He staggers from the vomiting pit
Emaciated wolf
The grinning scarecrow eyes of merciless
And the jagged teeth of candle lit
The reek of vendetta
Hangs ever about his lips
And woe betide the gun smith
Woe betide indeed the needles
Wet prick
Nothing left to fight for
Other than
A long dead
Lover
Mindfulness
look deep in my eyes you shall see the karma of my lasting legacy willing to achieve
took a zip line down to my baby's grind sought out peace for a sure fire sweet relief
rolling them bones in the back of the joint have a 5th in my hand you all understand
made my first grand at the tender age of thirteen washing dishes busy as a bee
come and sit neck to me a story of a homeboy being capped in the knee
there's a whole host of rubbers when your in trouble make my Martini strong on the double
just like Fred & Barney Rubble need to keep your head up no its not some set up
wear your Sundays best yes life is a big test but now we rest
flirting with fire blowing it up in the most fullest desire coming down to the wire
music is in my blood just like a cow chews on its cud kinda sweep some things under the rug
there's magic in the music scene rolling out the red carpet like a village queen
living in a land so very mean got one foot in heaven the others in hell
but I got a good story to tell two rappers in the night looking so bad for a fight
one hand on the mic the other on the floor sweep blood off the floor sweeping for more
plenty plenty stop shopping at J.C Penney spinning records the best way they can
soaring to new heights that is their right a good cause to focus filled with cement shoes singing the blues
Freddie Mercury died of aids but he isn't a distant memory folks come sit next to me
there's a promise that's made in the dark coming to its fullest light
bitter sweet liqour the ***** was holding my finger don't call me late for dinner
it's a crowning achievement to stay in the zone you maybe home all alone
try to be mindul stay in the moment when you take a shower feel the warmth on your back
here the birds chirping outside the smell of the perfume scent love the decor of the room
treasure a red rose that was plucked a time before you gave your old lady making gravy
not to shady we meet in the middle playing second fiddle as you may dribble
things come and go but this much I know we bust up the beat to promote the tempo
Flying Saucers, Flake, Bar Six
Country Style, Gobstoppers, Twix
Arrow Bars and Sherbert Dabs
Sweet Tobacco, Lucky Bags
Toffee Crisp and Dairy Crunch
Grand Seville and Milky Lunch
Beta Bars, Loot, Candy Floss
The mysterious chewing gum flavour loss
Golden Crisp, Nut Crisp and Fuse
Extra, Bliss and Trebor Chews
Caramel and Raspberry Ruffles
Drifter and Milk Chocolate Truffles
‘99’ Flake ice cream cones
Zooms and Fabs and Toblerones
Coffee Break, Bitz, Victory Vs
Cadbury’s Special Recipes
Swisskit, Gold Mine, Apple Jack
Tiffin, Feast and Caramac
Welcome, Skippy and Sultana
Nutty, Banjo and Cabana
Chewing Nuts, Cough Candy Twist
Butterscotch and Butterkist
Crunchie, Topic, Fudge, Mintola
Super Mousse, Crazy Joe Cola
Golden Cup, Fruit Flavoured Rocks
(The secret of) The Black Magic Box
Floral Gums and Cherry Lips
Olde English Spangles, Walnut Whips
Kinder toys encased in plastic
Necklace sweets linked on elastic
Butter Mints, Fruit Polos, Yorkies
Sherbert Lemons, Sherbert Strawberries
Bazooka Joes and Liquorice pipes
Lollipops with swirly stripes
Texan Bars and Funny Faces
Mint Cracknel, Taxis, long red laces
Winter Mixture, Rainbow Drops
Jazzies, Kit Kat, Pips, Ice Pops
Toffee Bon Bons, Drumsticks, Rolos
Amazin’ Raisin, Aztec, Mojos
Barley Sugar, Chocolate Limes
Daims that changed their name from Dimes
Jelly Babies, Jelly Tots
Milk Gums, Munchies, Mars, Pear Drops
Coltsford Rock and Anglo Bubblies
Sugared Almonds, Frozen Jubliies
Peanut Brittle, Prize, Ice Breaker
Dolly Mixtures, Old Jamaica
Kop Kops, Wine Gums, Laughs and Treets
Jap Desserts and whistling sweets
Fishermen's Friends and Hacks and Zubes
Pineapple Chunks and Cola Cubes
Everton Mints and Pontefract Cakes
White chocolate mice and jelly snakes
Refreshers, Teacakes, Swizzles, Pacers
Toffee Logs, Fruit Gums and Waifers
Rumba, Dipped Flake, T Bar, Tunes
Fry's Five Centres, Macaroons
Bars and boxes of Milk Tray
Milky Bar and Milky Way
This ‘Pick and Mix’ is yours to share
With all sweet lovers
everywhere.
River Ethiope has swallowed another big
fish
River Ethiope has swallowed another big
fish
She waves her tail large the size of her
teeth
River Ethiope has swallowed a big
fish
Her hungry is a mystery
feed
Her fangs cold like her broad
hips
She is a regurgitating
beast
chews her cods
slowly
she raises her prey up down
up again and down then up
the third time and. finally chews
after some days in the belly
vomit it prey
stiff
stilled
ill
many forgotten souls lie beneath her. deep
River Ethiope has hijacked another student
Like a hawk she dives prickly
On its prey at a glance sweeps like cyclone and steals
At the brink
of her mouth another
Final year scholar she drinks who
Gone to be with the swim
is gone into
thin air only to be seen
days later on
top of her skin white, stiff still
Eyes pop out.
River Ethiope is a. beast
She never get filled
River Ethiope is found in Niger Delta area
Located in Ethiope East, Delta state in Nigeria
This poem is based on a true life story
With close personal experience
In my university days,
Delta State university , Abraka
5/6/2020
The shaking starts as I think of our past together, as the mental
machinery shudders into action, an organic search engine that chews
through the years looking for clues, as my heart shudders in rhythm
I choke on these very words, as they run from my heart onto the page,
my tears, the salty lubricant keeping the wheels of torment spinning
in my head, churning out these feelings that will not seem to abate
Our pain was like an avalanche, crashing and smashing everything
that lived on the mountainside of our life together, until it finally
obliterated the tiny place of hope that we'd built at the bottom
It sits there now, the detritus of a love left out in the cold too long;
frozen to reduce the risk of fire, a fire that had burned out so long
before, that even the sparks of tragedy could no longer set it alight
A wrecking ball of anguish, the agony of two damaged souls clinging
to one another for so long, that they'd pulled the skin off in those
spots where their fingers had clutched at the others battered heart
Perhaps it would have been easier for one to have ripped the heart
from the other, straight away, ripped it bloody and beating from their
chest so as to sooner end this unending flood of torment for both
I cannot bear to look at the smoking pile of emotional debris that
remains, lying atop the memories that were hurtled to the bottom,
to be buried once and forever; only to keep poking out in the light
And yet, I must look; I can't look away, guilt won't let me turn my face
fully to the light; what if/what if, my brain asks, when my thoughts turn
quiet in the night, questions the mind strings like a boolean algorithm
Do you cry still, when you hear the roar in your dreams? Have you
found a new memory to dream of, or are your dreams now, of the other
side of the mountain, where, with hope, a new fire is being lit?
I pray that you aren't still looking, as I am, at the underside of your
soul, searching for answers that may never be found, for reasons,
when there are none but the winds of fate that blew us together
I stand where silence is thicker than bread.
He,
not a man anymore,
but a bruise walking upright,
a shadow that still pays rent to the body.
Loneliness is not beside him.
It is the room itself,
the ceiling sweating plaster,
the window coughing dust.
It pushes through his skin
like cold water in a cracked bucket.
His heart still taps,
like a drunk knocking on the wrong door.
Each beat a protest,
yet the protest already sounds guilty.
To breathe is to sit in court,
to be tried by the wallpaper,
by the squeak of the chair,
by the dripping tap that counts the years.
Time here sharpens into nonsense:
a drip becomes an entire calendar,
a sigh shakes the floorboards.
Even the smallest rustle,
the mouse behind the wall,
falls upward into God’s deaf ear.
And still he remains:
a candle without fire,
burning invisibly,
like the taste of ash in your mouth
after a funeral feast.
I cannot step aside.
His abyss has been nailed into my ribs.
I carry the shame of impotence:
not for sins,
but for what cannot be done,
for the way care turns into theater,
a hand waving at shadows.
The walls pretend to hold him,
but walls are polite liars.
It is absence that chews him,
absence, slow, official,
with a face like an empty chair at the table.
I know this story.
It’s older than stories.
Adam shivering in the weeds
outside the garden fence.
Job scratching sores in the dirt
while the sky locks its jaw.
All exiles line up here,
every silence rehearses its lines in his throat.
So I do the only trick left to the living:
I stay.
Presence,
as a badly tuned prayer.
Presence,
as rebellion without slogans.
Witness,
as the last coin we have to spend.
For what remains
when hope folds its tent,
when meaning slinks off into the dark,
when words smash their heads
against the stone of despair?
Only this:
to squat beside the abyss,
knees stiff, hands useless,
to whisper without sound,
that even here,
where loneliness is stitched into the fabric of being,
life still stutters,
not entirely alone.
Christmas has it's candy canes and chocolate Santa Claus doll
Easter with it's Peeps and jelly bird eggs can get a little dull
But do you recall the greatest candy Holiday of all...
Through the dark of night guided by a dim flashlight
going house to house with an earnest plea
As your hand clutches your treasured bag
disguised and masked to fool all
Haunted by witches goblins ghouls monsters, pirates
and a pink fairy, you step up to each door and knock
As it creeps open an over joyful adult in an ill fitting costume
waits for your magic chant of "Trick or Treat" before they add
to your heavy bag, bursting with candies you eagerly
flee to the next houses garnished with morbid and spooky
decorations to add to your sweet booty.
Finally your inner time clock tells you to weave your way home
through the darken street crowded with costume children and parents
and the dreaded teenager lurking to spot a stray and steal their candy
But you had a plan route and made it home safe into your locked room
upon your bed you spill forth the bounty of a nights loot
Root beer barrels and candy corn
circus peanuts and licorice give to mom and dad
For you got a Whopper and Reese cups a Kit Kat or two
Mike and Ike and good ole Baby Ruth
Snickers, Heaths and Junior Mints
What a Pay Day looks like a 100 Grand
Twizzlers and Skittles and Lemon Heads
Starburst and tootsie rolls overflow your bed
Nestle Crunch and Krackle and a 3 Musketeers
Hershey Kisses and Sweet Tarts to share
Wax candies and Milk Duds and jelly beans
Airheads with jawbreakers makes you scream
Snickers, Butterfingers and Lolli pops
Twixs and Milky Ways and even a box of Dots
Smarties and Zeros a Hot Tamale or two
Jolly Ranchers and Chuckles and Sour Patch Kids rude
Blow Pops, Runts, Nerds Laffy Taffy on my bed
M&M's, Stripes gum and a Mr. Goodbar
The greatest Halloween haul by far
So many gums and jellies and chews
chocolates, marshmallows and gummy bears too
Halloween a sugar treat for every dentist and kid
That night I slept with my candy in my bed.
Good morning Poison Squirrels,
Today I am going to address your bowel problems
My class groans.
We don’t like to think about them.
We are teens.
Your mouth chews up food, right? Asks Mr. Lee.
Our science teacher is way too cheery in the morning.
One student out of thirty-one nods.
Mr. Lee focuses on her.
Saliva lubricates the food then sends it down the esophagus.
He draws a saxophone-looking cartoon on the board.
Muscles of the esophagus propels the food into your tummy!
He says this with a flourish, and shakes a couple of red pompoms.
One girl laughs. Same girl.
She must be gunning for an A.
Your stomach muscles breaks the food down into smaller pieces.
Actually, turns it into a paste much like poi, it is called chyme.
“Why don’t we call it poi?” asks a student who never is interested.
“That’s an interesting question!” Mr. Lee says.
“A very interesting question.”
A small giggle starts from somewhere.
He gives me a sharp look, and I realize it was from my throat.
“Sorry,” I say, not meaning it at all.
He nods.
As if I was serious.
Maybe I can still keep my C
“Next we have the small intestines,” says Mr. Lee.
He has continued to draw on his cartoon.
Does anybody know what organs add the digestive juices?
“OOOOHHHH!” someone says in a disgusting way. Dang it! It was me!
“Liver?” Miss I-shall-get-my-A says.
Science guy nods.
“Anybody else?” He asks hopefully.
“Heart?” our other class clown says.
There is a shriek of laughter.
Actually, several.
Now I wish I had said that.
Mr. Lee is not looking quite as happy.
“Pancreas?” Another brown-nose yells out.
Mr. Lee nods. “And Gallbladder,” he adds.
The drawing looks almost done, and he is getting toward the bottom.
“The large intestine is next,” he says.
“Anybody care to guess how long it is?”
“Seventy five feet?” the clown yells out.
We all laugh.
Mr. Lee is looking a whole lot less happy.
We finally get down to the part where the rectum evacuates.the waste.
I wisely put a hand over my traitorous mouth.
there are those that think they have a
one-on-one relationship
with the faces on their screens,
they draw conclusions from looks that
they give the camera & things that
are said in fleeting interviews---
these individuals secretly want to be
on the other side of the screen,
standing in front of the mic &
not behind &
when they get a bit too engrossed in their
delusions,
they start to speak about
performers as if
they knew them, as if they knew what it
was like to live a lifestyle, as if they
had an idea as to what it was like to
devote all the energy &
torment to the art &
to swim in it,
to walk in the fire---
with all the habits,
with all the self-destruction that comes,
with all the rage,
with all the attempts at
obliteration, with the great great
egos, with the narcissism that
chews away the structure of the
body, with the reflection in the stream
just begging you to
drown
down
dead &
these people praise
all their lil’ fictional characters
when their favorite performers
hang up the drugs,
they close their squinted eyes &
hail the images of the characters from
their lil’ fictional books,
when they feel that their favorite rockstars
are “healthy” now,
because, quite frankly,
they have become mundane, spent &
useless.
i want my favorite artists bleeding,
i don’t know about you---
i don’t give a **** if they get happy,
if they find the “one” &
they pop out a few rugrats,
move up to the goddamned country &
place their guitars, their paints,
their PC, electronic boards, etc.
all up on the shelf so they can
waddle round
for a restful walk in the grass---
their art always begins to suck
once they start to bathe in their
wealth &
they always start to bloat out & get
fat,
once they replace the drugs with
“love”---
how easy it is to forget the terrors
that you began to speak out against,
how easy it is to lose grasp of that impetus
that made you scream in front of a
mic in the first place,
when no one questions anything you do
anymore &
the red carpet gets rolled out
even if you are just going to take a
****.