Cringe Poems

When nowadays everything is seemed cringe

When someone makes a mocking comment about your thing you put effort in, 
It's much more dragging, 
than looks or personalities.
I worked and did.
I sweat and cried.
But was also relieved, happy and amazed.
Every energie of mine, every focus, every motivation.
,,yours look very good!"
,,Ah, thank you"
,,No, her's doesn't look good. Our's better, we can talk much

Hear Here

Why do I sing such a memory?
You're gone now, I've sung you away.
Recalling a song
or humming a tune
seems not to be enough.

No, I have to sing, to holler, to bellow
and then that recollection will depart;
such noise will take its place
and singe so many ears.
And then they will cringe.

(4 Oct 2023)

Watching Them Cringe - In Trumps Own Words

Assailed, maligned, hounded and betrayed
And all for why, simply for the game I played,
My aim to win but of course the lefties don't agree,
Their views alone are all they ever want to see.

Control and power their only final goal,
That's why I say it was they that really stole
All those elections across our glorious land,
They and

Cringe

She loved the feeling of the singe,
As she further pushed in the syringe.

(Note: This is about no one. Just a cool rhyme and dark topic.)

Cringe Caused By Santos Drug Binge

Are you ready for a few laughs
from Horn Haiku of course

Cognitive dissonance and resonance

Santos on drug binge
had been using a syringe
causing us to cringe

Santos still livid
they say that he has COVID
loosing would flip lid

had mind badly soiled
Santos is like eggs hardboiled
a child who was spoiled

When Santos occurred
as usual reassured
trouble up had stirred

Santos much bad news
Peruse

Depends On How You Want It

From me another gets a thing 
Because he deserves something
And from me Absolute Nothing,
When he is eyeing Everything;
To the lustful her wished fling
At a fighter lesson-teaching swing
Such as boxers collect in a ring
And detached a feared wing…

And when insult in my ears ring
Dong-ended ding ding
And they displeasure bring
I try to Ease restore with Zing
Unwisely, I

Cringe At Image of Scrimmage

Cringe at Image of Scrimmage

what we did was cringe
when they inserted syringe
trump did see image

Jim Horn

Flinching Happens

I have lived my entire life suppressing squeamish hurls.
My cringe that never ends startles, falters and recoils.

I would like people's internal body substances properly contained
but cannot even escape vile as piled by family and pets in upsets.

Slithering, slimy reptiles are so very, entirely ugly
their looks even hurt the feelings of their mommy's.

Televised close-ups of intrusive

Gates

Death is less grave reaper
Than stone-faced gate keeper;
A dark doorman who waits
At eternity’s gates
Opening one to Light;
One to dark, fiery night. 

He will surely show you
The exit to pass through!
As Death’s last oversight
He shuts the gate to Light;
Then Death will cringe in fright 
Doomed to dark, fiery night.

Cringe After Hearing About Binge

Cringe After Hearing about Binge

Regarding disaster we were on the fringe.
And about the thought will always cringe;
Then we worried,
While they hurried;
Heard they had been on a drinking binge.

Jim Horn

See Trump I Cringe

See Trump I Cringe

When I woke up in middle of the night
Another poem I did decide to write
All about Trump and mess he is in
Locker room talk and won't say it again
Now each time cringe seeing his sight.

Jim Horn

http://www.poetrysoup.com/poets/top_100_poets_most_poems_all_time.aspx

Perma Cringe

These feelings in my mouth 
Make it hard to speak. 
Sour and acidic  
My face becoming a perma cringe!
I would swallow my words
But I fear death would be ,
The end result.
I cannot breathe dread and 
Anxiety take hold of me.
I grow pale;
And pray you can read
My thoughts, and see
The things I would not
Say.
I’m not

Cringe

 the Dark encroaches
frightening fears
smothering heart beats
ending now



Deaths beginning
near
Final


-For Dr. Ram Mehta's "Septolet" contest.
Tim Bryant

I Cringe When the Smoke Comes

I cringe when the smoke comes
Of the crippled boy leaning on the ground
Creeping toward the sounds
Of the birds of love, celebrating
A cremation party with bounce.


I cringe when the smoke comes
 To the hardy knight’s pout
Under the hyena’s slurping sounds,
To the immolated pigeon on the ground.

I cringe when the smoke comes
When a holy page burns
Bunches of

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