Long Tippy Poems
Long Tippy Poems. Below are the most popular long Tippy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tippy poems by poem length and keyword.
I’ve fu**ed up your nervous system again
And I don’t want that for you
I will leave you be
I can’t hold you while you run
It’s a fool’s errand to hold so tight
I will accept it
I still feel tethered to your heart
You can’t let me go but you are gone again
I will cut you loose
You will never choose my steadfast love
I have no choice but to choose myself
I will love me
You are turning me into an avoidant
Leave me alone to my melancholy isolation
I will hide
I used to stand on my tippy-toes for you
Now I’m abandoned for my vulnerability
I will lose hope
I miss being happy while shining in your eyes
But my shine is dimmed by your resistance
I will fade away
I feel like I’m playing a cruel game
But I don’t know the rules
I will stop guessing
I’m going to leave on a high note
But that note is silent
I will mute my affection
I understand you now, but you won’t ever know
You won’t speak to me in this space of yours
I will stop waiting
There’s an accountability verse that needs to be written
The resentment builds in your stoic silence
I will be quiet
And now I grieve the loss of you
I quietly long to hear your voice
I miss you
high on life
the tippy top
a star
aglow
Dayspring
of everything
a candle
lit
timeless
and
perpetual
the earth
received
HIS
great worth
placed
in
a mother’s embrace
a babe
how dare
we
lick our fingers
and
extinguish
eyes so bright
as if
we alone
could
create a star
of
our own
^
V
small
ones we are
0 seen 0
from heaven’s gate
0 angels 0
preview our nods and knees
0 do we 0
follow through
as the years go by
0 do we 0
steeple or fold our hands
0 and 0
ponder our destiny
star light
drips
from the candle
on high
do we catch
the flame
LooK at mY CAT
And he licKs
I caN't fiX
With a tiP oF my HAT
Or a CrucifiX
CandlestickS CandlestickS
DaRe I flick at the wicK
With a prettY PrettY stick
Or my finger tiP
LikE a TricK
Oh so QuicK
WithOut TemPuRR OnlY RAGE
ThaT mY CAT
YoU KnOw mY CAT
CamE Screaming from HIS Cage
From his Cage to his StAgE
I could WAGE
or disengage
EiTHER oR
I cannot say
Can I Say???
I cannot say
So — I
TiP aNd I toE
I tippY tippY toE
I tiP tiP toE
PrettY HappY TippY TOE
'CuZ mY CAT
You kNoW mY CAT
My SuPeR Trippy CAT
ScAred oF ALL
Ten FeeT Tall
ShAdoWs DANCING oN thE waLL
On thE waLL
PorcelaiN DollS
"What'd I See?"
It's whAt I saw
ThAT mY CAT
YoU kNoW my CAT
WaS
- drippiNg
-- suGaR
--- from
---- His
----- paW!!!
Contest-- Voices.... by Silent One 12-08-2018
3rd place
Contest-- Wonderstruck by Robert James Ligouri 11-28-2021
Honorable Mention
Where are my shoes? I can't find my shoes!
Where have I put them? They're impossible to lose!
OMG, I'm ashamed! This is awful! Don't tell anyone the news!
--Whew! Now take a deep breath: I've found them with the booze.
Oh, no! Not my hat! Oh, drat! I simply can't have lost that!
My purple-pink alligator hat, the one that's cockeyed and flat.
Where could it be? It's not in the wine vat or under the doormat.
--Whew! Inhale and exhale: It's perched on top of the green velvet cat.
What's this? Ee-gads! My wedding ring's not on my finger?
Where in Heaven or Hell did I possible fling her?
Doggone it! It's not inside my life-size replica of a honeybee's stinger!
--Whew! OK, calm down! I see it: on the tippy-tip-tip of my hummingbird's
dinger.
O, Dear! Whatever can the matter be? Do you think that I'm losing it?
That I've got Alzheiimers, Dementia, or I'm Inspector Clousseau-ing** it?
Not a chance, my precious darling: Boot your brain and start using it!
Once you remember I'm already 99 1/2 years young,
You'll be glad that the green velvet cat in the purple-pink alligator hat
Hasn't yet got my tongue!
--February 07, 2018
__________________________________________________________
**Peter Sellers rather insane, comic character from the movie, "Return of the Pink Panther, c. 1975.
~ A Storybook Princess ~
She dreams of princes, princesses and balls
A little girl on tippy-toes, not a meter tall
O, the frilly lace gowns she fashions
Stitched with threads of heartfelt passion
A little girl in dreamland enthralled
Daylight's full of pain, tests and probes
From her lower spine to her temporal lobe
Hair shorn, she bears it all with infinite patience
As they wheel her from station to station
For at night she's a storybook princess
No matter that in daylight she winces
Asleep, her bed's her castle, wedding-bell topped
Where dreams last forever, never stop
Entered in 'All Yours (Feb. '21) Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
1799 c.e.
Invading the privacy of Egypt’s estate,
Napolean and troops on their tippy toes,
Sweetly snatching the Rosetta Stone.
Turning it over cartouche style,
Lusting to surround Josephine, in battle.
Their royal names forevermore, amore…
Jean-Francois Champollion joined the duo in bed.
His hands glided, over three parallel scripts –
Hyroglyphic, demotic, and Greek; translation exotic
1978 c.e.
Princess Leia, a 3-D hero hologram
Parlayed with charming communication
She held a saint and a rogue in her sultry hands
Present Day in the bedroom of his royal highness
Egyptian tomb exhumed, enlightened, laser projected -
No protection from the spirit of matrimonial melee.
Dutifully terrified, damsel in distress; holographic mistake.
No big surprise - I ain’t gonna lie
I'm still fightin' back your goodbye
Up late again - drink in my hand
Convincin' myself we're not just friends
Makin’ the best of the situation
Tippy toe'n through this tribulation
Tryin’ not trip up on the truth
But what the whole thing comes down to..is.
I'm stuck on yesterday - no I’m not ok
I'm caught up in the used to be's - the should've beens won't let me breathe
I want it back again - the way it was back when
I know you moved on - but baby I just wanna stay
Stuck on yesterday
I know it's best to just let go
But my heart keeps on holdin' on
When you had the best - then all the rest
Are just chasin' your footsteps
I'm stuck on yesterday - no I’m not ok
I'm caught up in the used to be's - the should've beens won't let me breathe
I want it back again - the way it was back when
I know you moved on - but baby I just wanna stay
Stuck on yesterday
Whoever said it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all
Never had to look into your eyes and feel this kinda fall
I'm stuck on yesterday - no I’m not ok
I'm caught up in the used to be's - the should've beens won't let me breathe
I want it back again - the way it was back when
I know you moved on - but baby I just wanna stay
I know you moved on - but baby I just wanna stay
Stuck on yesterday
Come wrestle with a gator!
Said the poster at the fair.
With tape around its mouth, it looked
Pathetic in its lair.
Yet in a cage adjoining it,
A tortoise ambled 'round,
Its movements sure and steady,
One foot lifting off the ground.
With claws extended, it appeared
To glide on tippy toes;
Its ancient eyes gazed straight ahead,
A true reptilian pose.
The children leaned and stroked its shell.
It didn't seem to mind,
Although I'm sure it would have liked
A stroke from its own kind.
That tortoise kept on moving,
Though perhaps to help prepare
For a coming-soon encounter
With an unsuspecting hare!
It’s back to school, hip hip hooray
I’m so glad to be back today
I’ve got my bag and all my books
And practiced intellectual looks
Today’s first session is Miss Hughes
She’s five foot three in low heel shoes
Slim as any girl I’ve seen
She’s something like a beauty queen
The blackboard is a little high
But five foot three means ‘my o my’
She takes the chalk and there she goes
Stretching up on tippy toes
And goodness how my ardour grows
It’s stockings, not just pantyhose
I nearly see her ‘not-to-mention’
Which gets my absolute attention
She says, ‘Can you see, at the back’
I’m feeling my composure crack
I feel my heartbeat getting faster
She turns and says, ‘Oh Hi, Headmaster.’
14 September 2022
Contest: Back to School
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Planted like a seed, the giant fell from the beanstalk.
He left behind his golden eggs and singing harp.
It was a faceplant…a belly flop…a real humdinger.
The trench went on for miles with no smile.
All he could think was, “That little brat, Jack…”
The giant was wobbly at the tippy top of the stalk
for the teen had tricked him, into drinking whiskey and rum,
then had him dancing, snorting, laughing with tomfoolery.
Jack dared the giant to look way down, pointing out
things that could never be seen, then woops…
wobble wobble and the giant flew through the air,
like a bird of prey with great big open eyes.
Light as a feather…never had he known the feeling.
Nor the one that followed it - a smackdown, demeaning.
Gravel and soot filled his wide open mouth, as did curses.
As he recovered, the giant imagined Jack as a fly -
he’d splat or a mosquito- he’d clap, or as a roach
that his heel would nail. “That little brat, Jack…”
Meanwhile, Jack was living large at the top
of the plushest beanstalk. He’d not see his demise
as over time the goose and harp won him over
and tricked him into making merry with them.
The golden stage, with food and drink and production -
the musical that told the demise of the giant.
Jack clapped his hands, like a toy monkey, so filled
with glee…but fiddle dee dee…he lost his balance
and had no wings to fly as he was tossed into the sky.
No worries, a giant palm caught him…that little brat.
The reunion caused bulging eyes…a heart attack.
They both perished from overexcitement…
I bet you didn’t see that coming? Flying has its hazards…
2/23/2023