Spit Up Poems - Poems about Spit Up

Do You Care?

How much spit do you have to wipe off your face? 

How many thorns do you have to remove after every curse we attach to your name? 

How many times do we have to bury you, and you come back with more grace and love? 

Every praise we give you feels like a blade piercing

dummy spit

dumpy trumpeter 
spat the dummy
when his taco toppled
off his pastiche wall

Pig on a Spit

Walking down York Avenue,
A very urban block,
An odor had my senses piqued
And then I saw, in shock,

In front of a local restaurant
A pig turned on a spit.
With juices dripping down, it somehow
Didn’t seem to fit.

It’s not a sight I’ve ever seen,
Right out there on the street,
And though I’m sure that some would be
Excited by that

Not clean enough to spit upon

'Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon',
I would not piss in your ear,
if your brain was on fire.
For what you have done defiles mercy's dung.
For on your face, the stain of wrongs is drawn, indelible,
And your words, beget bitter, pointless heartless disdain.
So soiled is your soul, and all grace is so far gone,
Forgiveness is

Hiss slap spit, Repeat'

Oh most of Europe..' Is in a fit.' Realitys has kicked in.' Also
Putin says has been safekeeping, many intercepted kidnapped kids.? Some are American too.' Now what will
The so willing do.? I even doubt this (true story) will be
Explored? being much too gory.' Oh dear Lord!! cause Trump
And Vance, must know on which foot fits

Spit

   A bullseye again!
        Can't miss.
   Have practiced since I was ten.
      Contrary to what people may say,
   I have a talent.
   And plan to keep it that way.
   The Olympics are coming

Mouth Etiquette

They say real ladies don’t spit
Then what in the salava to do with it
Just hold it in 
With a grin
Or learn to swallow another trick

Turning the Spit

At a history museum
By the hearth there was a spit
With a slatted-wood contraption 
By a rope attached to it.

When we read the explanation
We were totally surprised.
The contraption was a cage
In which a small dog exercised.

Like a hamster wheel, the dog would run
In circles so the meat
In the spit would turn, which helped
To make the cooking

Chewed Up and Spit Out

The biggest mess I've ever seen
was taking bribes while living a dream
The exchange of money for confidence
When seen so sure the competence
But suddenly there goes something wrong
Abilities to change was taken from
No favorability while decisions are deals
Deception in progress while we grease the wheels
Two billion doller's paid in advance
Presidential powers pushing at glance
But assumptions made

Anna Alpaca

Anna Alpaca is a sight.
with long, long legs and long, long neck.
She’s almost as tall as a kite!
I lean in to give her a peck
and when I am too close she spits
to let me know to go away.
She’s not rude, it’s just how she gets.
It is her way of saying “Nay!”

Showing elegance and true grace

8 Miles Rapp 99 Dalmatian Problems To Battle Spit

I've got 99 Dalmatians

99 problems

But a b###h ain't 1

Are simply Black or White

99 shade's of grey

Luckily I can't count to over a 100

Otherwise id have 101

Come from 8 miles away

Wrong side of the tracks

No street cred

Get stage fright

Battle getting it up

Can only spit while flipping burgers

Got 99 dog's but not a single G
calling me dog

Spit Out the Grit

wouldn’t it be awesome
if life were always as smooth
as scoops of homemade
strawberry ice cream
easing down our throat
on lazy summer days

sad truth is
oftentimes we’ll find
grit in our leftover soup
when we’re at our hungriest

yes, my friends
we’ve got to make the most
of good times as they roll by
because we never know
what’s around the corner

when the road ahead
is smooth

Golden

Silence can sometimes say more than words. 
Like a voice crying out saying "that's for the birds". 
In one glimpse of haughty reveals action turned verb. 
Without out even squeeking you unveil; could be worse? 
Could be lashing and slashing ripped apart with both hands. 
Leaving bodies like mountains seething piles of flesh. 
And though

My Brothers Boots

My Brothers Boots 
David J Walker
(3/19/74)

They opened him
And closed him
And told him to go home a
And wait

I was a soldier then
I took leave to come home
And be with him

We talked about the army
And he gave me his jump boots
Thirteen years old
But still shined
With a little spit and kiwi

In Germany
I wore them on guard duty
The midnight

Don'T Spit Into the Wind

Don't cause yourself trouble where there's no need.
Don't yield to temptations of lust, power and greed.

No matter the reasons for the things you do,
They always come back, they come home to you.

Things never work out for those who break rules.
They always get caught and then look like fools.

Some rules are written, some just common sense,
And

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