Long Nips Poems
Long Nips Poems. Below are the most popular long Nips by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Nips poems by poem length and keyword.
A frozen pulse a synergy and soon she was iced like cold hard glass.
Poor Clea in her purple orchid dress ensconced in a crevice of time,
from the icy tendrils of Ikthalon. Icy winds blow from the bowels of hell
she is rendered still as ice pellets pelt on her weakened body;
He wraps the sun and blindfolds the stars then plummets to earth with demonic intentions to search and destroy.
Along comes an omega mutant " Iceman" with a
hard packed intention to stop the villain from exploiting her.
Radiating intense cold from every tendon and nerve in his body,
he wraps a gossamer fabric round her to thaw her gently from
the frost bites and nips of her emissary, the evil Doctor Strange.
A multi-verse madness of evil it was but as the clock struck twelve
in Time Square, Clea defrosts and sashays forward in her pencil dress.
Using her tele-ported thoughts, she enters another dimension where
Icemen are heroes and Spiderman rules.
This is where the story ends folks. Tune in for a sequel,
same place same time, reporting to you from Time Square.
Aug 7 2022
Deep beneath the twisted root,
Where silence wears a felt boot,
The mother curls in circles tight,
A ring of warmth against the night.
Her brush is draped like silken thread,
A pillow for each tiny head.
With silver tongue and patient grace,
She washes every fuzzy face;
A rhythmic stroke, a tender sweep,
To lull her restless kits to sleep.
She nicks the clay and clears the air,
The mistress of her earthen lair.
When hunger nips at bellies small,
She answers to their whimpering call.
She leaves the warmth of huddle and home,
Through silvered wilds and woods to roam.
She answers every hungry need,
And gives her waiting kits a feed.
But if the heavy foot should fall,
Or shadow loom against the wall,
The mother transforms—sharp and keen,
The fiercest flame that’s ever been.
With bared tooth and a warning low,
She stands between them and foe.
In golden coat and eyes of fire,
She is the shield, a mother’s desire.
Until the stars begin to pale,
And dawn unfolds its violet veil,
She keeps the watch, the sacred trust,
Amidst the roots and cooling dust.
What can make the heart grow fond
I'll give you the tip
Nothing can satisfy your taste
Like Scottish Steak and chips.
Juicy highland cattle steaks will
melt just past your lips
feeding well the hungry soul
That's Scottish steak and chips.
What can put some fat on you
on your frame and hips
you'll never ever fade away
With Scottish steak and chips.
There's no food in this modern world
whether haggis, burgers or fish
that can match the beauty and taste
of Scottish steak and chips.
TV chefs seem unawares
and seem so ill equipped
of talent, skill and feel required
to cook Scottish steak and chips.
No need to be serious
Always poems to make you think
Need a bit of humour
Eating Scottish steak and chips.
When grandchildren ask about the nation's dish
"is it haggis or whisky nips ?"
I'll lean back in my rockin' chair
eating Scottish Steak and chips.
Hook: Want that Oscar Myer wiener.
Not a pretender a winner.
Far from a beginner
pure beef
put that ass to sleep.
They say the way to a man
Is his stomach
and he loves to eat.
Daddy loves to eat.
Sexuality, love fantasies, the drip.
Tasty fruit juices,
of my Daddy's lips.
Putting the cream in my cool whip
doing the dip.
As I proceed to take control.
Working my hips.
Love the way he sucks my tit nips.
Takes the downtown trips.
The way he looks in my eyes.
Lick my thighs.
Like Toni Braxton, making me high.
Emotions can't be disguised.
Boy you got that healing.
Give me such a good feeling.
Watching the mirrors from the ceiling.
Put my body in ecstacy.
Bring me fire and desire.
Like Rick James and Teena Marie.
Feeling the melody ,
of your heat beat
bodies in heat.
Wish I could do a repeat.
Put that **** on D.V.D.
You heard me?
At dinner, Zach asks
about our nation's history, wars.
I say We're taking on everyone, one at a time.
First Britain, then Britain again: "He was the surly English pluck, and
there is no tougher or truer, and never was, and never will be."
Next Mexico: "Death is indifferent to what hide he tans; life crushes men
like flies."
The War Between the States: "Well done, Mr. Cromartie. Time now
for rest."
Most of Latin America: "Not only humans longed for liberation. All
ecology groaned for it too. The revolution is also one of lakes,
rivers, trees, animals."
Then Southeast Asia: "The slight bump the mortars make as they kiss
the tube goodbye. Then the furious rain, a fist driving home the
message: Boy, you don't belong here."
Now the Middle East: "A land to be admired like all lands. Harsh
mountains and deserts, indigenous plants and people, adapted
ungulates, carnivorous mammals."
Can't forget the Krauts & Nips: "Then I heard the bomber call me in:
Little Friend, Little Friend, I got two engines on fire. Can you see
me, Little Friend?"
Nor the Commies: "You mixed up farewell to an epoch with the
beginning of a new one. I put this book here for you, who once
lived, so that you should visit us no more."
The original indigenous people say: "In time wexll become prosperous,
or else we'll become martyrs. The force that placed us here cannot
be trusted."
. ….. … … . .
restless thoughts find her half-awake
covering pain with another slapstick laugh
and insecurities with giant egoistic words,
the hurt is shattering , but no one will know
just another pinch that some music can heal
hiding droopy, dark circles around night eyes
giggle and joke, but how delirious she has gone
smiling along while wrinkling soul inside screams--
the cold wind nips playfully, keeping her company
there’s a light in her mind, but promises not to cry
instead, pretending that laughter soothes the wound
It’s just the season of falling in and out of love,
but It’s been so long ; so long now,
that nights hang between what’s real and imagined
a thin, fine line that takes control of the dark--
one last light on for the restless and shattered
just keep the signs of moon and stars on for a while
maybe she’ll sleep gently once again,
piercing shadows won’t be at the bedside tonight
not with the hint of that in-between edge of flight
like fire and water, opposite lines and dots don’t meet
eyes now aware, clear thoughts embrace her back to life.
©
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CONTEST: Nancy Jones’ Fine Line
center>Flurries swayed on brocade of her white gown
'Twas Christmas eve...year twenty o' nine's frost nips;
A face gleamed as ribbons wrapped around
on spray of orchids clutched by fingertips.
She paced a walk along the chapel aisle,
Rhapsody of music hummed of new life
While he...ordained by fate, parted a smile
Exchanging oaths so warm, man to housewife.
The hallway roused with cheer and merriment
December groom held spouse for rounds of waltz
And best man huffed, “Jill , don’t nag for the rent ;
Sean, always laugh at her jokes with applause.”
Five moons after, a child with her back turned
Lifted wrappers from toy-bouquets, mid- air,
'Twas Christmas... their daughter's flushed grin confirmed
The past magic of wedded bliss; love’s flair!
Ode to my Grand Best friend
My grand best friend, you inspire me this night.
I love the way you look, wallow and run,
Invading my mind day and night, the light,
Always dreaming about the great mock sun.
Let me compare you to a pretender?
You are more ideal, little and charming;
Good frost nips the robins of December,
And wintertime has the mean mixed farming;
So envisaging and enticing your ways;
I love your spirit, attitude and charm;
Thinking of your attitude fills my days;
My love for you is the strong just as your arms;
Now I must away with a gracious heart,
Remember my short words whilst we're apart;
12/22/19
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
I was everything
you desired me to be,
wearing rags,
scrubbing floors
I was slowly erased,
un-mothered
made your whore
When I look
to embrace the sun
I feel my eyes lower
in pure light I feel
my presence shunned,
my steps continue
to graduate to slow
but moving forward
I must to go
if in sleep I forget
to breathe?
please believe
I didn’t want to leave
taking your faces
in the palm
of my hands
with my feet
I'm draw your image
in times sands
my heart once whole
is an abyss of pain,
I am slipping away,
but with each gasp
I'll try to explain,
this husk
made of skin,
is brimming,
overflowing
with life’s sins
You see God
forgot he put me here
he’s not seen me in years
though his presence
"I thought” was near?
over and over I’ve been
pervaded with pain
I've raised my palms
over and over again
I am not done,
though destiny nips
at my heels,
and I'll no longer
be 'nothing'
when in this life
no forever will I feel
Right now
a cigarette stained
moon tilts my sky,
and the firmament
is ripped with stars,
So with this in my mind
I'll end with a sigh...
You should know
I’m not who I am
The one who you see living an everyday life
Being paid for the job he’s doing
Sometimes with pains in his back
Or in his knees
The triumph of stupidity giving him migraine headaches
He who reads the papers and hears the news
And drinks with his friends or alone
And smokes an old pipe secretly so his wife doesn’t know
He who worries about the lives of kids
And struggles to write the unwritten
I am a man who makes his life far from here
Who explores unknown places in the earth
Who nips in the bud monstrous hurricanes
Who holds a tight leash on flooding rivers and spins energy
To light up the night
Who reveals through the cosmos the history of creation
Who helps find the names for new stars
Who takes protons apart like shelling walnuts
Entering through quarks
To get at matter’s secrets
Who can make the dumb speak and deaf hear
Tuning in to the world’s cacophony
Who appears in the path of barbarian hordes
And crushes them
Who destroys wild dictators
The minute they step away from their thrones
And people wake up smiling
Who finds the roots of medicines for each disease
Who undoes the greenhouse effect
Saving the world from global warming
And in the evening
After conducting a giant orchestra
And a chorus of a million children in the Sahara desert
That he has caused to blossom with olive trees and oranges
Returns to his home
To lie only a little bit tired
Near the quiet breathing of his beloved wife.
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