Boil Poems | Examples

Emollient

Pushing the envelope outside the box
if only here to accentuate
the many ways in which
emu may emulate
by delivering nutrients' benefits
and what's more
help repair with anti-aging hydrate
yet won't clog your pores
they herd the birds in a mob
not a troublesome job or task
with ladle fire pit pot and hob
'How is it collected?' I hear you ask
as allegedly good for the skin
anti-inflammatory emu oil
is scooped off the bubbling surface
when they're brought to the boil

Tea Time

It's almost half past three
time to cosy up for tea
kettle's on the boil to brew
tea for two me and you
with egg and cress or
cucumber sandwiches
with nary a single crust
(they were all donated
to the National Trust)
it's after forty to four
shall I be Mother and pour
I know you know Pekoe
the table's set quite daintily
two for tea you and me
and we can sing my song
'Lapsang Souchong'
I LONG
YOU LONG
WE ALL LONG
FOR OOLONG
unless you're feeling more Darjeeling

In a vast cauldron, where hearts boil in suffering and dreams

In a vast cauldron, where hearts boil in suffering and dreams,
Society rounds itself like a sea of untamed thoughts,
Under a leaden sky, where time flows like a river of memories,
The heavy clouds of forgetfulness gather, shading every glimpse of light,
There, in the vastness of silence, if you don't feel, don't move, don't disturb,
A film of indifference forms, like a skin on cold soup,
Slowly, it covers the depths with a layer of apathy and forgetfulness,
And in this velvet silence, the world becomes a dull painting,
A world where dreams drown in their own weight,
But maybe, just maybe, with a gesture of love, with a whisper of longing,
The entire sea of monotony might awaken to life,
Each soul could dance again, like a living flame,
Burning with passion, desire, like a shooting star in the night,
Spreading light in the darkness that surrounds us,
For only by moving, by stirring, can we find color once more.

Fire

Everywhere known as the Red Hot,
For which it is also Near Not
You try it skin won’t like the spot
Awaits the eye the worse-than-blot…

Everywhere hated for its smoke,
Smoke sneaking into eyes not a joke;
In emergency tears eyes soak,
Big frowns and squints by the taxed bloke…

What fire does is keep burning, 
For a torched house triggered mourning,
Watchers; innards badly churning,
For fire fighter eyes turning!

Still, the best labor to hire
For kitchen jobs that don’t tire:
The plantains and yams we would fry
Or after some denied days cry,
The soup good chefs cook as a group
For events hyped by a paid troupe,
Hot fluid for brass monkey weather
To one save shakes like a feather…

Yes, for cold water we should boil
So that we won’t after bath coil.

In My Left Armpit a Big Boll

In my left armpit  a big boll
That made me with anger boil…

Then, nurse began to water boil.
“Please, don’t touch it now: let it boil…”

“But not like breakfast tea I boil!”

I’d prayed fluid would spill on the soil
And had begun to like snakes coil
But her next move, I on that soil, 
With the planned help of a sir Doyle
Who made steadying me his toil…

Several attempts to escape foil…

Treating a boil could a day spoil;
Two friends in arguments embroil.

Summer's Boil

~ Those days of prime 'neath skies of apple wine,
transformed infatuation into hope,
while nights of Spring, beneath the stars divine,
inspired two vernal lovers to elope.
   When fervor waned and solstice peaked the sky,
those days were singed and weathered in the broil.
Their days of Spring soon seared and withered dry
as ruddy skies were bleached in Summer's boil.
   But as the fervid pace began to slow
and swelter chilled beneath an Autumn glaze,
their golden embers kindled to a glow
as tempered hearts redeemed their youthful ways.
    The rage of Summer simmers to a hush
         when Autumn paints the sky a golden blush.



6-15-22

A Country Boil

Get yourself some swamp cabbage,
And get yourself some ham.
Get yourself some snap peas ,
And the biggest pot on hand.

Boil it up together,
Over a nice slow fire,
Until it's all real tender,
Then take it from the pyre.

Don't forget the seasonings,
Just salt and pepper's fine,
And serve it up with corn bread,
And folks will stand in line.

Defending Green Snake

It wasn’t a green snake
That tried God’s enterprise to foil
Nor one of greenish make
That had man pushed into piteous toil.

 The sun-loving green wouldn’t anything spoil,
As often it’s thinking of how to funnily coil,
This presuming to playfully act out on your very soil
While your odd animosities you oil
And not once, not twice, unnecessarily boil.

Floyd's Passions Boil

Floyd was having an affair with the soil
Something in the ground made his passions boil
   He dug a real deep hole
   Up popped a New York mole
She slapped poor Floyd ~ I'm not that kind of 'goil!'

Makes My Blood Boil

it infuriates me so

kids anxious
to get their grubby hands
on their inheritance
~ their due!

anxious to claim their jackpot
uncouth arrogance and greed

so what if it’s at the expense
of someone else’s lifetime
of labor and sacrifice

the entitlement
the disrespect
mind boggling

it enrages me so
                          


AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Posted on June 20, 2019

Temper of God Boil

Trump More Trouble Recruit

Trump North Korean Officer did salute;
More trouble cause and he will recruit;
Corrupt our soil;
God's temper boil;
Minds of all his supporters pollute.

Jim Horn

Feelings Begin and Start

Feelings in your body begin and start;
Flow through arteries owned by heart;
Value  has none,
Even after done,
And you are, brain will say how smart.

Jim Horn

Over Started To Boil

Over Started To Boil

Was upset when things over started to boil;
Then there appeared to be another turmoil;
Peace and quiet,
Now part of diet,
And feel better when I will relax and uncoil.

Jim Horn

On the Boil

You would not know,
when, a desire,
becomes kismet.

A face shrinks 
and glasses become large.

You squeeze your eyes 
and look into the sinkhole.
It had devoured the holy spirit.
the thoughts, the poems.

I survive the limbs, 
the body, and walk out from 
the prison of prayers.

You do not want a deemed liberation.

Only blind spots will do.


Satish Verma

You Boil You Burn

You’re at least a well wisher, so I thought
b’cos of you, I won’t be what I’m not
you’re the grand gangster of your backyard, so what!
your hate is impressively dynamic 
the flames- to others you want to transport
the fuel of anger inside of you is quite a lot
boiling a soul which has long been hot

In your whole life, I’m just a dot
my scored goals shouldn’t be that significant
as for this challenge, heavy ammunition I’ve got
hence you can do me nothing so yourself you should sort.
Grow up and this mess inside you please abort
anyway its your choice
cos the ball has always been in your court

Boil Food

you won't to eat
not beep
or feel a little weak
don't uese oil
its cool
to have 
BOIL FOOD

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