Long Chomping at the bit Poems
Long Chomping at the bit Poems. Below are the most popular long Chomping at the bit by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Chomping at the bit poems by poem length and keyword.
Pleased as punch
This mother quite proud
Flips up her tail
Neighing out loud
Her gait so lively
Her head held high
This bright young fella
Once a gleam in her eye
Unbridled spirit
Feeling so grand
The spitting image
Of his dear old man
Romping through fields
Free of reins
Thundering hoofs
Flying mane
A frisky young colt
Like dad in his day
Who was quite a stud
They were heard to say
Then back to the barn
When day is done
This spirited young colt
Was born to run
Resting for a while
Batteries recharged
Chomping at the bit
A spirit so large
Such unbridled youth
Exuberance defined
This pesky young colt
It's his moment to shine
©Jack Ellison 2012
They crowd around their leader
unqualified, unfit
Vying for some action
all chomping at the bit
They’ve given-up democracy
their morals are all gone
Instead they honor Donald Trump
a two-bit, traitor con
They don’t want an America
with those who aren’t White
They’d rather burn it to the ground
and threaten that they might
They’re homophobic bigots
and condemn those who are trans
Scared of life, scared of love
they punish them with bans
Like preachers, they quote scripture
hang crosses from their chains
But then deport small children
far away, alone, on planes
The MAGA base is poisoned
hating all that’s not the same
Then praise an unfit moron
who’s a fool and has no shame
We won’t give-up our freedom
our vote, or right to talk
Together, we will march as one
resist, and walk the walk
Written by: Vaquero Waddie
----------------------------------------------
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth
when you're chomping at the bit
the Withers of a horse is used
to measure height
Straight from the horse's mouth
believe what he say's
don't fail to wear your Halter
in your certain disipline
find yourself a true lover
one you call your freind
Backing the wrong horse
will have ya'll airing out ya'll's lungs
I could have told you she didn't
want all that kissy stuff
tire of you before
it was over
cause she plumb had enough
a great relationship
has it all
walk trot and cantar
slow when you need it slow
fast when it needs ah-cantar
you'll know when it's right
a smooth steady pace
I reckon all things like this
it the same all over the place
On learning to become a guru...
The following artfully crafted back in the day
(actually poetic endeavor presented below
written a few scant years ago) in response to
unexpected positive feedback received on
the most popular social media platform.
Unbeknownst to this unsuspecting witty mortal,
a reverberation attributed to butterfly effect
linkedin to hotmail twittering Facebook member,
who resides within Bhutan, his dignified volition
accorded me magnanimity titled sage without any
influential collusion from Russians bestowed yours
truly with said honorably distinguished appellation,
which humility of mine humbly accepted without a
protestation, though never would I brazenly adopt
spiritual holiness, yet flattered to share such rare
pronouncements, when unsolicited feedback lobbed
in my direction (way before advent of Information
Technology Revolution) often tendered, kindled, and
belittled this gentle human, sans when bullies slung
byte ting bit torrent loathsome scandalous red zingers
targeting personal vulnerabilities, asper being under
socially withdrawn, painfully shy, plagued with speech
impediment (severe nasality) caused by submucous
cleft client, plus weighing where needle budged from
absolute zero pounds, topped with passive demeanor
susceptibilities conveniently converging to establish
this bruised Earthling ideal choice as scapegoat, no
kidding with dread to endure endless days, weeks,
months...a lifetime channel of opprobrious, noxious,
malicious emotionally demonic, cannibalistic, barbaric
abominable, damnable, horrible diatribes chipping
(dale lee) at what measly self confidence shielded
fragile psyche fast crumbling into grist for hungry
caterpillar, unbeknownst that flight path randomly
followed by a representative of Lepidoptera order,
would ineluctably set very subtly infinitesimal
fluctuations within air (currently supplying biota
with requisite oxygen), also training perturbation.
Patience Young Grasshopper mine alter ego spoke
when yours truly figuratively chomping at the bit
more accurately fretting with anxiousness when
boyhood body of mine underwent metamorphosis
impossible mission to thwart biological transformation.
There are fingers that pick daydreams
along the banks of this blue electric river.
Eels swim with it’s black-magic ballads
attaching a powerful charge to the swell.
Along the banks of this blue electric river
bullfrogs and alligators provide a drum.
Attaching a powerful charge to the swell
the luminous melody gains its fine edge.
Bullfrogs and alligators provide a drum
chomping at the bit for the celestial.
The luminous melody gains its fine edge
as the intention gains traction to build.
Chomping at the bit for the celestial,
you’ll do almost anything to wield it.
As the intention gains traction to build
mountains of stars swirl into a funnel.
You’ll do almost anything to wield it,
eels swim with it’s black-magic ballads.
Mountains of stars swirl into a funnel.
there are fingers that pick daydreams.
Pleased as punch this mother quite proud
Flips up her tail and neighing so loud
Her gait so lively, her head held high
A bright young mama, once a gleam in her eye
Unbridled spirit, feeling so grand
The spitting image of his dear old man
Romping through fields, free of reins
Thundering hoofs, flying mane
A frisky young colt like dad in his day
Who was quite a stud they were heard to say
Then back to the barn when day is done
This spirited young colt was born to run
Resting for a while batteries recharged
Chomping at the bit, a spirit so large
Such unbridled youth, exuberance defined
This pesky young colt, it's his time to shine
Gordon Ramsay decided to pay a visit to Mel's Diner.
When he criticized Mel's food, Mel gave him a shiner.
Now Mel wears an eyepatch because Ramsay jabbed him in the eye with a fork.
He hated Mel's beef and had to have his stomach pumped when he ate Mel's pork.
Ramsay didn't like the waitresses so he told Mel that they had to go.
After years of faithful service, Mel fired Alice, Vera and Flo.
Flo was so angry that she was chomping at the bit.
She told Mel and Gordon Ramsay to kiss her grits.
Ramsay finally had to give up on Mel because his food is so terrible.
Ramsay's job is to help restaurants but he can't perform miracles.
(This poem was inspired by the 'Alice' TV show.)
Oh the things I could have said
During the heat of our wrangle
I kept tact and class instead
Of controlling every angle
For every grenade you threw
I had two more on my belt
I chose to let yours accrue
Just to see how you felt
I took the high road
To say the very least
I could have leavened my load
Your humility, my feast
Instead I kept picking up
The insults that you threw down
Refilling the cup
You would spill on the ground
Hours you must have dedicated
Digging for bones in my closet
You must have left so frustrated
From chomping at the bit
I imagine a jarring epiphany
Leaving empty handed
A truly tearful symphony
Not the way you planned it
Quarreling with a nun
Produced no satisfaction
When your rant was done
You lacked my reaction
Surly you know what I left out
The words to fill in the blanks
The severity of stupidity so very stout
You will walk your plank