Long Cough Poems
Long Cough Poems. Below are the most popular long Cough by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cough poems by poem length and keyword.
The rivers cough,
Their waters grey and sulky, with exhaustion,
Bitting at the banks that once held,
Children's laughter.
The lethargic trees wear ashes like armour,
Leaves brittle, whispering warnings
That no one ever listens to.
Drifting smoke climbing like a their,
Stealing the Blue from the sky,
Painting the sun in dull bruises,
Where we pretend not to see.
Even the wind carries a taste of metal and sadness;
The birds sing quite than ever,
There wings heavy with weight
Of a world forgetting how to breath.
Yet somewhere beneath the ground
The earth still hums softly,
Waiting for hands that will not choke it;
For mouths that will speake
Before the last river sleeps.
here we are
in bed sick together
all feeling bad because i gave this bug to you with no flyswatter
we both call in....thanking God it's Friday
we cough....we hack....we sneeze....we watch old cartoons
inevitably, we remember that there is a world and a monday and we get up and take medicines, fix soup, and pour vitamin c beverages
i wish we had some brandy
you wish we had some tequila
tomorrow the ceiling would have been a funktified trampoline
yet we suffer and have fun making ourselves cough violently due to loud laughter
the crazy thing is....it took both of us to get sick to realize that we have not been here since hearing our respective 'your hired's
you grab my hand and i intertwine mine in yours in unison
we shake our heads and reach to give each other an tissue with aloe and vitamin e
we blow our nose in the name of love, and the feeling is so wonderful
time is standing still like she is being kind to and sympathetic towards us
we take advantage by pulling out some board game that we have not played in ages
as usual, you win numerous times to my one
from there we do things around the place that dust has made a permanent home out of eons ago
sneezing like mad in the name of reconnection, we find each other and love again....and the reasons why....
Pretty girl dancing on stage with an edge.
Hiding softness with cold eyes that look dead.
Costumes and glitter a mans fantasy.
Not the person she thought one day she'd be.
Daddy's little girl that was yesterday.
Today she's Lost in the rolls that she plays.
She looks in the eyes of the men as they stare.
Dancing and giarating swinging her hair.
Feeling the beat as she moves to the song.
Trying to believe she's doing nothing wrong.
Hoots and hollers they say take it all off.
Dirty old man at the front with a cough.
Dancing for money she has bigger dreams.
At home all alone her tears fall in streams.
A few more months maybe another year
Yet look at these girls that are still dancing here
Lies so convincing one day they will stop
Pouring out dreams never reaching the top
To me banana leaf is not cheap life providing lien
It serves me with certain safety like heavenly dish of earth
Dark venom fallen down in its safety embryo of oxygen
Venomous snake spreading burning meteors on heart
Breathing afraid of excess sneezing, cough, fever, headache
Unseen venomous flowers giving honey and aroma of death
Tasteless deaths do not allow to be near tearing lungs of air pack
Bloodless killing hands moving around the world with cursed math
At present for the stainless amorphous killer-
Truth forgetting to love
Love forgetting to be sympathized to life
Life forgetting to breath independently
Vulnerable life digging out the river of orphanage tears
30.03.2020 Chattogram
(To be sung to Cruella DeVil from Disney's 101 Dalmatians)
Pollina DeVil. Pollina DeVil.
She ensures that her pollen
Makes you feel ill.
She wants you to buy
Her allergy pills.
Pollina. Pollina.
She loves seeing your
Money fill her till.
Payments to Pollina DeVil.
She's found a way to make
And spread fake pollen.
She loves to hear you cough
And see you sneeze.
Your red and itchy eyes,
More products you will buy.
High pollen counts
Floating in the breeze.
This selfish skunk,
She markers her map.
She plans where to hide them
Then set off each trap.
This villain must pay
The peoples compo bill.
Pollina. Pollina DeVil.
When the wolf applied nicely
If he could come in,
The pigs replied thricely he shouldn't.
Then they scratched at the hairs
On their chinny chin chins,
And tightly bolted the door so he wouldn't.
But wolves, when out shopping,
Are not easily put off,
Even faced with the risks they are takin'.
This one ignored the wheezing,
And the nagging, rasping cough,
In his lust for ham, pork chops, and bacon.
First, he blew down the straw house,
Then the one made of sticks,
But by the third he was straining and grasping.
It was a veritable fortress
Of well-mortared bricks,
And emphysema left him panting and gasping.
With one last mournful howl,
The wolf knew he was done
And lay down in the driveway, embarrassed.
The pigs regained their composure
And called 911,
But when the cops came, the wolf claimed he was harassed.
The argument raged
For an hour or more
'til the cops gave them all a citation.
Still gasping for breath
As he slunk from the door,
The wolf was stopped by a squealed invitation.
"Wolfie, oh, Wolfie, please won't you come in?
We'd so like to have you for lunch."
And he would have gone on and ignored the appeal,
If he only knew that "ragout de loup" (pr. rah-goo duh loo)
Was the entrée, but he had no hunch,
And he was not one to pass up a free meal.
When a wolf's sick and hungry,
He might let down his guard
And do dumb things a wolf shouldn't ought to.
But for pigs, it's expedient
To get the final ingredient
Required for a tasty "wolf stew".
The wolf's huffing and puffing
Couldn't even come close
To the pigs' stratagems and devices.
After seven martinis,
It still hadn't dawned on the dope
That intelligence wasn't one of his vices.
If he'd had more brains than brawn,
This poor wolf might have known
That the pigs never meant to surrender.
They'd no more need to fear or hate him,
They knew the booze would marinate him,
So when they served him up and ate him,
He'd be quite succulent and tender.
If this tale has a moral, I'd like to propose
That "three heads are better than one" be selected.
In this case, not the one who worked the hardest,
But the ones who worked the smartest,
And as the little piggies guessed,
The wolf was the perfect luncheon guest.
Of course, their table manners weren't the best,
So they still made pigs of themselves, as expected.
Mommy, you carry me in your womb,
not knowing that it'll become my tomb;
mommy, on a cigarette you constantly puff,
and I, too, inhale the smoke that makes you cough...
I sense much loneliness, even though
I can't see you and feel the sadness of your day;
why does smoke make you reject love,
the tenderest love you should have for your baby?
Your lullaby isn't heartfelt and sweet to make me sing,
there's a sourness I can't easily explain;
most mothers are happy when they conceive,
why aren't you excited, delighted and really glad?
My desperate plea you can't hear, because this voice is too low
for you to hear it and give up that bad habit;
I want to live like others babies and drink my milk and grow,
but you're not concerned and moved by it...
Even your teeth have turned yellow and your breath smells,
smoke makes all your clothes sting as your brittle hair loses sheen;
how can I survive, if you continue to clog your lungs?
I breath what you breath...I cough when you cough, and sometimes bleed...
Mommy, I will have the same beautiful eyes that you have,
that reflect the color of a spring sky and softness of a calm sea;
mommy, live and let me live and hear my desperate plea,
many uncaring mothers have died and taken their unborn to their grave...
Cpoyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
They say back in the day; we live in more intact homes.
Now We are Broken and shaken, wondering where the bacon is.
Being crucified by the world, but my family threw the first stone.
Secretes remain secret, and help is in the distance.
God is our only reference, but it is hard to grasp him in our presence.
So what are we left with?
One another?
We are so quick to get at each other's throats.
We put our own value on life and money.
How is it that our world so rich but our country so broke?
I have been living in the fire.
Overcame the cough; now we are beginning to choke.
Mix a little something in my coke, just for me to cope.
Taught to love God and money
The world is full of honey.
Always do what's best for me, and only God could judge me.
But I'm still being judged by my cover. And we are not loving one another.
Sleeping in this world as our home gets further.
For once, I want not to get looked at based upon my color.
Am I asking too much, my brother?
The future is ours, and we have to help one another.
The cycle could end now!
Unless you want to remain broken.
-OneLove
Standing in front
Of the place
He felt
A faint breeze
Skimming
The streets
Ankle high
Swirling dust
Reaching up
Stinging his face
Reminding him
This was not
Wind blown sand from
The ocean.
He came from a
Place like that
"...seashells by the seashore..."
Tired
He packed up
Headed out
Straight down the highway
Took the high span view
Over the George Washington Bridge
And saw the misty outline
Of Manhattan ’s
Gray turrets
Piercing the clouds
Brightly colored banners
Everywhere
And soldiers in armor
Beckoning
Him
To come with
His dreams.
Stepping back
He looked
Up and down
The streets
Nothing moving
Nothing to see
The dream
Within
Still
Burned
White
Self taught
He spent
Long nights
Searching
For the right words
And solitary days
Practicing
Until his fingers cramped
And bled.
At the clubs
He met some ladies
Had some fans
When agents stopped
Calling
He stayed
When the others
Slipped away
Leaving behind
Empty backpacks
And borrowed shoes.
The place fills up
Lights dim
A stray cough
Punctuates the silence
Alone on stage
He eases into the mike
His voice carries the song
The audience leans
To hear
Words meant only for them
He connects
With them
And they with him
The Devil is in the room
The club is transformed
After all those years
His chance is now.
Acid reflux ~ 7:00 post meridiem September 24th, 2019
Ah... nothing more enjoyable than acidic gastric fluid flowing backward into esophagus, resulting in heartburn, disrupting pleasant dreams, nor unsure how successful literary endeavor crafting poem regarding aforementioned will yield.
While deeply asleep
during late afternoon siesta
above name named date/time,
yours truly immediately awoke
with a start, at strong violent
urge to upheap
I made little or no bowed peep,
but sat bolt upright stock still
tear ducts activated eyes
as if ready to weep.
Sadness less pervasive than fright
since reverse peristalsis uncommon
within body electric regarding plight,
which analogous volcanic eruption
albeit bubbling magmatic flow slight
reverse peristalsis found yours truly
on par with fire breathing dragon ar
goo ably momentarily nonplussed -
while dry cough minus gushing lava
gratefully only smoldered before sim
ring upper gastrointestinal tract did
allow, enable, and provide mouths
full of distilled water quench sudden
unquenchable thirst relieved result
ant unpleasant aftertaste (no pun
intended), yet distilling humor helps
me weather, manage, cope... with
unexpected physiological fee nom
mina - shot straight up within digest
heave tract, and did lament this rick
hitty packet of muscle and bone aft
times susceptible to disheartening
woebegone news afflicting this non
Norwegian bachelor farmer, whom
if the missus cooking triggered bout
unleashing bit torrent of unsavory
plate tectonics, perhaps indicative
of continental drift shrunk down to
miniature, where fault in thee stars
must be held in contempt of court
if for no other reason, I just wanted
to incorporate said phrase, tip here
me got some legal lear'n, when truth
Philly admits he seems to know less,
the he learns, which prompts me to
posit emphatically that ignorance iz
equivalent to bliss, thus presenting
quandary how kin this pronouncedly
reasonably intelligent garden variety
*****sapiens unfetter himself with
cumulative knowledge without reek
horse to invasive surgery such as...
prefrontal lobotomy, or te deum down
smarts some unknown cyber surfer(s)
could easily misconstrue as vainness,
smugness, quintessential pomposity?