Drier Poems | Examples

almost

an almost autumn
scene unfolds outside window....
purple flowers bloom
yellow butterflies flit fast
mexican petunias wave   

occasionally birds
come into view and hummers....
brown rabbit nibbles plants
a break in the fence somewhere
small animals enter there

summer swiftly flies
soon cooler nights, drier air....
hummers migrate south
mexican petunias die
birds at feeders seen outside

It Cannot Be Helped

Cranberry shaded leaves upon
Crepe Myrtle in the fall
Fig leaves change to their ripe color
Now those distant birds' call 

It is so dry, Shikita ga Nai
'Tis the design for this time
But drier than some in the past
There's no reason or rhyme  

Or is it in God's grand design
Of course, it has to be 
God would send rain if it were not
The future is His decree  

Hair turned white, Shikita ga Nai
Permanent color, could dye
But ages' affects, I can't stop
Rapture will be by and by

Let snow fall upon the mountain
Let crevices crinkle
Let the brain and heart be wise
And love's vision twinkle

Shikata ga Nai

Death of Summer

I noticed a smell of soft decay
autumnal moment arrived.
Last rose on dying bush,
dandelion clock waiting to be blown.
Grey clouds the sun slipped away-
nature is silent, drier time of year.
Wood smoke rises from chimney
Summer no more.

uselessness

my poetry is dead and I will follow soon
my words haunt
and I can no longer give them their weight

I always thought I was an opener
that I help those around me, with a word, with my presence, with an idea
but everything was just an illusion

at least if I could cry
but my soul is drier than the desert
barren land on which not even the dunes run

I ground the meat of the words, keeping only the shell for the world
my thoughts run wild to nowhere
and yes, my poetry is dead. at least if I had the forgotness

SOCK IT TO ME

Once we were a matching pair, some days we’d get downbeat
as we both couldn't abide the stench of sweaty cheesy feet!

Our male owner would pop us in the washing machine
with warm soapy suds we’d soon smell fresh and clean

But now my ‘sole mate’ has gone missing and I am bereft
I was worn on the right foot, and he was worn on the left 

Our owner removed the washing machine gasket 
then checked the tumble drier and laundry basket

Alas my companion is still missing, life just isn’t fair
a single sock is useless, and I’m filled with despair

So my owner’s sock stock has now been depleted
and with my partner gone I’m feeling de-feeted!

What use is one sock, maybe one day I’ll be ‘heeled’
if the sock monster’s secret stash is suddenly revealed!

So for now I am consigned to the back of a drawer
with other odd socks and I'm sure there’ll be lots more!

The Boy with Sweaty Hands

My hands are almost always wet from my sweat
And I always find it so gross, but it won’t stop
Sometimes my hands won’t sweat because I forget
Then I realize my hands are dry, now it’s a flop
I wish that my hands could always be drier
But they can’t stay dry, they always get more wet
If I can not get that, I wish to acquire
Someone, a girl, who won’t mind all the sweat


The girl with sweaty hands is now holding mine
Don’t know what this is, but I think it’s a sign
I didn’t think this could ever happen any day or time
I am so glad that this happened. I can say she is mine

As For Mornings

As for Mornings

The skin on my feet crinkles and looks like an old newspaper left out in the sun, I have five pairs of shorts and can use none
I have bought a cream for dry skin, but first, I need a shower that
makes the skin drier still, and I think,  it all!
At a building site. nearby, they are boring a big square hole in the 
ground presumable a garage for electric cars and stick a big building 
on top, I hope it floods!
The building site used to have a nice house, set in a beautiful garden, but Sharks with cement, bricks, and money came and a story ended
There is talk of banning petrol cars, that means we, pensioners and
 low low-paidkers learn to walk or take the bus, getting wet and soggy when it rains, the bus is late.
 it all!

Watch Out Dream, I'M Awake

I’ve always wanted to climb a cliff
Straight up 
Without rope
Unless the guide insists

It’s not about reaching the top
Though helpful
So what
Just climb, don’t stop

I’ll pinpoint each grab and foothold
The journeys
What matters
And let the day unfold

I’m finally going to go out now
And reach for
My dream
To accomplish a vow

I’ve learned to set my sights higher
But heavens
It’s raining
Maybe tomorrow if it’s drier

Or let this dream stay magical
A vision
To keep	
I don’t need to go radical

This Beach Without Palm Trees

This beach without shady palm trees
is the chosen playground of harsh winds,
its sand is drier than the Sarah's desert;
nobody lays on a blanket to soak up sunshine,
not even kids play handball smelling a tempest...
and be engulfed by huge waves onto the sealine. 

Karl is the courageous one surfing and screaming,
no fear can batter his audacity, neither is his daring; 
now, twilight approaches slowly, and makes him worry...
then, he defies his inner force advancing very rapidly.

Beaches without swimmers and sunworshippers are too dull,
there appear the sand dunes: the hideaway of an angry troll; 
I rise up and go towards the rageful waves that break apart...
creating the whitest bubbling crest ever seen in Newport.   

This beach without shady palm trees
is no attraction for avid beachgoers
who seek a solitary place to cool off,
to read memes to make them laugh?

Dancing Between Acceptance

Acceptance is easy to feel
It’s like dancing in the rain
Whilst wishing for a drier deal

If not for regret soaking me
Acceptance would be right as rain
Forgiveness an elusive cloak

Better to endure cruel showers
Practice patience with umbrellas
Dancing between drops like flowers

But traumas remind me I'm wet
Rinse failures on cycles dour
Make tornados to my regrets 

Love reminds me to awaken
A symphony in a storm's eye
Me falling notes to silent dread 

Practice resurrection in rains
Crescendos rise in falling drops
Till soaked grave’s finale still
 
Learn to croon despite the rain
Proclaim glory to divine waters
Curse not cloudy skies feigned

Hold back impossible downpours
Or seek acceptance in the hour
Practice dancing between tears


Genesis 4:7
"If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must rule over it.”

Town Criers No More Needed

Young man, just try a glass of sangria,
Now, we all can see you are angrier.
Audience is not a ‘a must’ for Town Criers;
Their job can now be discharged by flyers...

One cries too long and one lips get drier,
More pacing about the legs look sorrier.
In some circles you become a pariah,
For being of all things Hollow Wood Carrier.

Yes, you keep that in mind, Prepared Crier:
A town crier’s voice might go higher
But to his critics “A Hopeless Liar”
Or in short, he is the no more needed,
His colleagues in other towns fast weeded.

Hate, Hate

Hate is vile
Hate doesn't smile
Hate is rough and tough
And sips bad stuff.

Hate hits
Hate spits
Fire, fire
In the dire drier.

Hate burns
Hate hurts
Hate is cursed
Hate outbursts.

Hate prejudges
Hate misjudges
Hate destroys health
And causes untimely death.

Hate is ugly
Hate is nasty
Hate is deadly
And very lousy.

Hate lies
Hate cries
Fire, fire
In the air fryer.

Hate is a crime
Hate is a waste of time
Hate is audacious
Envious and obnoxious.

Hate has no luck
Hate does not give a fork
Hate is very sad
Hate is very mad.

Hate is hell
Ring the bell
To chase away the haters
The corrupt liars and the sinners.

Copyright © November 2022 Hebert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.

Passion Coffee

As breasts float eyes on coffee grospt
there's men who'll know amusement's drospt
And tell them that they're needed when
there's women meant for drier bien

And let them know there's hope for men
when all that coffee's drank and then
To hold then for a woman wild
when meeting them means face and smiled

To tell them that they're all that world
where greatness,
gresh
and men are purl'ed

Set Us Afire

The sun went behind cobalt clouds
Once again, but came out
Leaving those clouds 'pon the horizon
Those sunbeams now so stout

Clouds slowly thicken come together 
Almost block the sunbeams
Gradually slowly the sun's covered
But its presence is supreme

As the water sprinkler clicks round
Hangs up in the tulip tree
Its presence becomes so much quieter
Reducing the noise with ease

The sun is completely covered 
Daily sounds come alive
Baying hounds, songbirds, and tires spin
Each with its own wive

Down where the mimosa blossoms
Areas become drier
Each day, help us by restoring
Your Spirit, set us afire

stout--meaning here is dependable
Written: Monday, June 06, 2022

Footle Odd Jobs

Complaining Hitman

Sniper
Griper

Internet Detective

Hacker
Tracker

Welcomers at Adulterers Anonymous

Cheater
Greeter

Umbrella-carrying Pilot

Drier
Flyer

Male Greeter

Hello
Fellow

Elderly Au Pair

Granny
Nanny


April 13, 2022

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