Long Toothy Poems
Long Toothy Poems. Below are the most popular long Toothy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Toothy poems by poem length and keyword.
Gather children, and hear this story, oh so sad,
which viewed, another way, might make you glad.
My mouth spoke harshly, or perhaps it was a blunder,
so, I turned it to a smile, and I sent it to "down under".
Indeed, I sent it on a mission to Australia,
and it told me with a toothy grin, "I will not fail 'ya".
I tell you this, because there are not many smiles,
known to travel almost eight-thousand miles.
I shed a tear, until cheerfully, it sang,
"Don't worry, I'll come back to you like a boomerang",
and off it went, without conveyance, or map to chart its course.
It had no train or plane or boat or bus or horse.
I shudder, as I think of the trouble it went through.
One day, I'll tell you all about the koala and kangaroo.
That's the story of the smile that started as a frown
and went down under to turn itself upside down.
Few are blessed with albatross wings
to glide high above the toothy surf
to soothe the cliffs that yearn to sing
in granite tones of golden destiny.
Some are born with burning stumps,
prone to dream... never to shadow suns.
They cling to icy crags and siren tones,
stumbling on drunken cliffs above bloody shoals.
Others are born void of most everything...
say for pearled hearts and hungry beaks.
Gazing out toward indifferent skies,
awaiting silver miracles that drift on by...on by.
A few are never meant to breathe at all.
Briefly tumbling in the throat of violent squall.
wee flakes on glacial lakes of bluing memory
few are charmed with albatross wings.
In the backwoods of my soul
where dreams are lost
and moments grow cold
among the bitter
of a winter’s storm
as embers of frosty feelings
ooze through the melancholic
drifting, nomadic, aimless
guilty of only the grief
brought to life in the twilight
reflections still and weathered
wearied by the truth
forever and always colored in hues
soundless music, foretelling
wings like leaves, dancing free
hovering beneath the moonlit skies
bustling threats of secrets
quietly told
on the silent lips of a star
stories often buried
breathing through the darkness
glazed in shadows
trembling with yesterday’s dirty doubts
friendless and aching
breaking through the past
in hesitant pleasures
will the moon learn from these
whimsical noises,
bursting at the seams
flashing like fireflies
glassy eyed and destined to believe
wherever the joy seeks
grace, beautiful grace
there is the image of her face
almond shaped eyes, sapphires
glowing like the sea
who remembers only to see
where she is, where she’s been
there is the mirror image
of a heart who grieves
toothy grins and shallow cheeks
beyond the perfect skin,
and auburn hair – blushing
she seeks the moments
before the night reminds her why
she can never go there again,
the past cannot begin
where she left off – the tragedy
is in the faded pieces of the long-ago,
the aching glow of a time
before the light grew dim
before the shadows remember
she is still, once her energy
was wilder than July
now she’s the vanishing seed of autumn
ever weakening,
leaving a trail of useless blooms
petals on the meadow
seeking out the portal for new
the past sings for you
the past, it clings to the skin
like an adrenaline – never drunk
as the moment when it remembers
the dusty dreams of September
David Bowie told us, though I haven’t seen it yet
It puts it in your mouth when it takes a cigarette *
It’s important in the kitchen
It can even have a stitch in
Most of us are hoping for as much as we can get
*
Sometimes you have less than you need
For it can run out at such speed
You cannot inspect it
You cannot collect it
But wanting some more isn’t greed
*
You cannot have this on your legs,
your face or on your toothy pegs
An idle man stands
With this on his hands
His workmate for more of it begs
*
Albert Einstein had a really good trick
It will reverse if you whizz round real quick
I spun on the spot
Just dizzy I got
Was Albert Einstein a little bit thick
*
In order to gauge it man invented clocks
Each chronograph got a decorative box
I cannot say who
Made some go cuckoo
There’s one in my kitchen, it ticks and it tocks
[* ‘Time takes a cigarette, puts it in your mouth’, from Rock n Roll Suicide by David Bowie]
Cool raindrops kiss my cheeks
A warm breeze rises within me
As I recall the moments
Which linger in my heart forever
The pulsating sphere of light and dark
Polar opposite lovers in the circle of life
Encompassing magnificent visceral nuances
Infinite shades of gray, slate, and steel
With mauve interludes
An elegant intimate tapestry
Complete with tears of joy and pain
Sharing love and grief
Gazing upwards I join my brothers and sisters
On jagged bare branches
As cool wind rustles our feathers
The white hawks, eagles, vultures, and their tribes
The birds of prey who gather
Sharing tales of their journeys through time
We all stare out
Our senses prickling with anticipation
A silence hovers
A shared glimpse
A collective inhale
Our ears and hearts awaken
Virgin raindrops fall on thirsty ferns
Their limey tendrils outstretched
Quenched in gratitude
A low rumble
Footsteps below
A clearing in the forest
Created by children gathering
Giggles and dust rise
Excited young mouths
Speaking in pantomime
Gesturing with kind intentions
Young creatures of the world kingdom
Unconcerned with language barriers
Sharing evolving consciousness
A wink of an eye
Hands on chest - feeling our heartbeats
Laughter emanating from within little bellies
Spinning freely in circles
Arms outstretched wide, heart open and exposed
Vulnerable in delight and anticipation
A low cello vibrates nearby
A gentle breeze rustles leaves
Which float in the air embracing light rays
Mesmerizing all
Pine boughs perform shadow puppet dances
On cascading rock walls nearby
Elders lean contently against tree trunks
Smiles slowly emerging as silent tears flow
A young child skips over
Tenderly grabbing her grandfather’s arm
Opening his hand, she plants a wet kiss
On his age-stained palm
Then gazes up at his toothy grin
Before returning to the gathering
Wild beasts arrive and quiet
Kneeling by water’s edge
To drink and watch
Hands clasp
A sharing ensues
A vibration rises
As souls gather
Radiating light and hope to all
They hated Nixon for being too formal
though he made relations with China normal
They hated Ford for pardoning Nixon
though his own future he was risking
They hated Carter for his toothy smile
though for M-E peace he went the extra mile
They hated Reagan for his patriotism
though he toppled the Berlin Wall, ending that schism
They hated George Bush Sr. for his oil wells
though they cheered him when Saddam fell
They hated Clinton for his sexual escapades
though they let him off the hook anyway
They hated Bush Jr. for his principled stands
though he took down the evil Taliban
They hated Obama for his constant preaching
And they hate Trump for Constitutional 'overreaching'
I hope Joe Biden is ready to be hated
For as the next President that's what fated
On Aging Gracefully
It seems that while we’re here on earth
we spend our time ‘tween death and birth
in growing older and it shows
how fast my body ebbs and flows.
Allowing time to contemplate
and reminisce before too late
how far I’ve come to this fair place;
they say I must age sweetly and with grace.
I know my body’s not the same
as when I started in this game.
It’s not the same; I know it well
at least as far as I can tell.
I take my glasses off my head
and place them near me by my bed.
But can I see? Oh, not a bit,
my eyes are bad, I must admit.
My ears have aids which compensate
my lack of hearing to this date.
It stimulates some thoughtful chat
though misheard words account for that!
And then my teeth, I have to tell,
are soaking in a glass as well.
They smile at me with toothy grin
until I put them in again.
My chest has fallen to the ground;
the hair I have is grey, not brown.
My chin has twins, nephews and nieces;
my face has lines and lots of creases!
I have no special muscle tone;
I am no longer “in the zone”!
I see a mirror and I scare;
don’t know the guy who’s standing there.
At five o’clock it’s time to eat,
sit by the table; off my feet,
but let not much pass by my lips
or it is forever on my hips.
My body’s cursed with indigestion;
my singing often comes in question;
my breathing breathes out gasps and wheezes;
each morning starts with several sneezes.
I yawn with nothing to yawn about;
I yawn inside; I yawn out!
And napping’s not a dirty word;
refusing naps would be absurd!
My body aches, I feel each pain
and ask when I’ll feel good again.
What happened since that time long passed
when I thought wrong my youth would last?
There is much more that I can mention
of doctors trips and drawing pension.
But here’s the truth I have to face:
they say I must approach this age with grace.
But will I take it lying down
till I am six feet underground?
Oh, not a bit; there’s not a chance.
I’ll not give age a second glance.
Bot I couldna leave
Wid Wee Luk McGee
Sprawled out on the flaw
So I stepped over Finn
Und tried to begin
"elpping 'im oop arf da flaw
Den Finn 'ad awarkin'
McGee a bit shaken
Awl made our way
Teh da street
We all were surprised
When we realized
We managed teh stay on our feet
McGee was da first
Teh trump oop a curse
Und swear 'e'd be drankin' no more
Den Finn chimed on in
Wid his big toothy grin
'E Raised oop 'is 'and as 'e swore
"No more awl nightin'
Drankin' und foightin'
We'll dew what we tink is roight (right)
We awl 'ad teh agreed
Let lyin' dogs be
Da is, until next Foriday noite (night)
Dee End Tank you my friends
When the sun starts shining little longer
Perky, beautiful, round, yellow flowers sprout up
Being in deep love with the sun and its energy,
They appear anywhere even in small cracks of dirt
In gardens, behind rocks, on hillsides or on roof tops
On gleaming carpets of prairies and grasslands
With toothy green leaves deeply notched
Swaying merrily in spring breezes “Hello” say dandelions
Some call them pesky weeds,
Some call them stubborn breeds that never seem to leave
To some, they are edible herbs and treats
With various health benefits
Loaded with antioxidants, vitamins and minerals
Low in calories, rich in carbohydrates and fiber
After petals drop from ripen flower
Ball of parachute carrying seeds opens into a full sphere
Having rather gypsy feet after development is complete
Seeds of fluffy parachutes travel quite a bit
Gliding by air stream disperse to propagate
Turning into flowers after finding any little space
Charismatic, brilliant dandelions
Symbol of strength, optimism and eternal joy
Reminder to fight against adversities
And survive through challenges of life
While staying humble and upbeat
Lantern of the Shadowed Glade
In shadowed glades where spirits dwell,
Beneath the boughs of an ancient spell.
A pumpkin awaits, its fate foretold,
By tomes of old and tales untold.
Carved with care by children’s hands,
A toothy grin upon its face expands.
Yet, within those haunting, hollowed eyes,
Lies a deeper truth in dark disguise.
On Halloween, beneath pewter beams,
Wailing winds weave ominous screams,
The Jack-o’-lantern’s gaze ignites,
On ghoulish forms lurking in the night.
He sees the village, veiled in fear,
In costumes worn, yet souls austere,
For lurking ’neath the festive guise,
A darkness deep, where evil lies.
Children laugh with voices bright,
While shadows waltz in ghostly light,
Sinister secrets, whispers heard,
Carried on the wings of a devil bird.
But deeper still, the pumpkin knows,
The ancient lore, the forest’s throes,
For spirits rise on this cursed night,
To dance beneath the pale moonlight.
In solemn vigil, silent, and grim,
The gourd watches, a veil so thin,
‘Twixt shadowed realms of dark and light,
A sentinel of the Styx, in eternal night.
When dawn breaks o’er the ghastly glade,
The pumpkin’s light begins to fade,
In its heart, an ember of infernal lore,
A demonic lantern, cursed forevermore.