Huffing Poems | Examples

An Awaken Dream

An Awaken Dream

A dream has come to life
With defiance 
to the compelling world
Strutting into plain and places 
stalking courage and resolve   
Befriending friends and foes
Defeating fiends then men
Huffing while toppling the night
romancing faith
just to oust fate 
aligning the sun 
to set tomorrow
and always

Riddle of the Winds of Fate

The wind like time
Does not beg permission
It does not pause for longing hands
It moves illusively disappearing
Coming and going
Weaving the strands of tomorrow
into fleeting dreams transcended
From the bones of yesterday
It waits unseen in silent stillness
mummering with mystery
charging into an array
of constant cycles of energy
Touching everything

In its river of drifting sighs and huffing gusts
Its anger devours with
Screeching tempests
Swallowing the lifeless forms
Without discretion
Making alive and moving
All that lies in its wake

At the crossroads of departure
Spinning like a bird in flight
You are taken in its wake
Uplifted into its command
Within the chasms of little choice
Unsurmountable mountains of truth
Lay just ahead in perilous wait
Only to come to rest
Succumbing to the valleys of peace
To witness destiny

Christmas Nibbles - bawdy

There must be a way to enjoy Christmas Day
But not fill my belly with food
Most years I eat till I’m fit to explode
But this year I’m not in the mood

My wife said she thought I might like a hot sausage
Which sounded a little bit rude
She said, “Just try this, it’s so warm and inviting.”
I said, “Now you’re just being crude.”

Impatiently huffing, she suggested stuffing
It seems that my wife is quite lewd
She asked if I fancied some leg or some breast
I kept schtum, which I thought might be shrewd

I gave in and asked for a nice fruity tart…”
And she yelled, “To what do you allude?”
I said, like a chump, “Okay, give me some rump.”
And frankly, I knew I was screwed!

Memories

Memories

I remember the coal fire
Crackling and flickering
Toasting bread as well as feet

I remember the steam Train
Huffing and puffing
Steam and smoke engulfing us all

I remember music, the Mersey beat
Beatles and The yellow submarine
Hipsters and Bell-bottoms
I remember it all

Memories of Music
Memories of fun
Memories of Life now long gone

Cranberry Confessions

If I can be honest 
I must cranberry confess
I really don’t want it
No longer need your sex

I don’t mean you 
Are invaluable to me
Just mean I don’t want 
All that huffing and puffing 

I giggle sometimes 
At myself for lemon lime
Is the taste of the sexless
And it is still good to eat
Between the sheets of paper poetry

I did once enjoy so now I don’t 
Change my mind want a sexless song
To sing as a fire sign soul
It’s not that I don’t love 
I guess I love me more

Cranberry confessions 
Sexless obsessions

Where are we going?

Bricks under our soles, and
The fluttering of mushed sounds
Paddle inside mine ear.

A portion resembles a desperate race -
Another scoop conveys an andante walk - 

And a fierce heap of…
Stiff and hollow steps—
Ring in a shallow manner—
Down through the dim alleyway—

Methinks, they are all going in some sort of
Clear or foggy direction, 

Where some signs are faded from the sunlight,
And some signs are scratched away at by the 
Huffing—and—puffing of the decades.

Playing Nice

At the edge of the dark forest, in shadows
Breathing the heavy morning dew, just the two
soft commotions kiss the silence as they froze

listening, for a presence, gentle hearts flew
huffing, puffing, thick scents of moss, blackest earth
outfoxing the hunter whose sure to pursue

he’s been an ever present danger since birth
always, she’s two steps back and one step ahead,
hoping to make it through fall for what it’s worth.

she feels like she is living in constant dread
and her fawn, oh, how she yearns to protect him
each season, she’s trying to avoid bloodshed

often, she travels in the creeks where they swim
sometimes eating bits of their corn on a whim.

Contrast:

Between the predator and the prey:

She starts the hunt with blood in her eyes,
She’ll seek out the trespasser to say her goodbyes,
Outfoxing him, soon he’ll pay the final price
She’s going to kill him, so next fall they’ll think twice
Before trying to trick her – he should have played nice!

Triggers

Triggers

Soft & loud
Here comes the storm cloud

Sssh the silent treatment
Meant for cruelty intent

Everyone’s the enemy
Even if I don’t agree

Stomping, slamming,huffing & puffing
Saying he’s only joking and bluffing

Ignoring, interrupting, intimidation
Only leads to darkness and deflation

Rolling his eyes and being dismissive
Thoughts of not to live

Invisible is how I feel
He says it’s no big deal

Triggers are all around
Without any sound

Time Minichu

Years span
Like breaking ripples around heaven,
By a huffing, winded fan—

Soon
Cloud expressions on the sky,
Long ago's faithless spaces, like new—

Crime
Drift lines
Time

Years span—
Cloud expressions on the sky,
Time

Whisper

we keep away from the racket
street noise, huffing and puffing
to whisper intimately, a lilt of catchy
its weight of dandelions seeded
an ebb and flow of what others thinly imagine

we whisper a new kind of lyric
personalized
gratifying 
soft words of casual enticement
me finding her eyes that dart like Dagwood tumbles
whispers to remind her of our shared love of lines
like Picasso angles
or lines of pine trees in backlit light
as hawk wings tower their bladed lines of life

hushed words
crafted to startle and surprise
a certain feeling of time slowing
what could go wrong in whispers
like syrup on waffles?
our way to trace clues of pleasure
rich in concealment 
to fill our minds
with music at low volume
played within a world
as it is
pulling apart
tilted at us

The Greatest Thrill Ever

The greatest thrill you've ever had
You probably have more than one
Try to keep it clean dear people
This could be read by a bunch of young'uns

Wanna know mine well of course you do
This goes back to when I was courting
My very first kiss I can still feel the thrill
Loved messing around and cavorting

Sure blew my whistle as I rounded the bend
Snorting and huffing and puffing
The top of my head started shooting out steam
And I lost a bunch of my stuffing

Oh to go back and experience it again
Those glorious days of my youth
Unfortunately they're gone never to return
Down another gin and vermouth

Right

I know I’m right 
So I’m keepin’ calm
I’ll bide my time 
‘Til I drop the bomb 

My flamethrower 
Is almost charged 
Into the room of your thought 
I will barge 

Why should I get angry,
When I know I’m right?

It’s pure and simple —
Plain as day 
As obvious 
As the nose on your face 

My composure,
I shall maintain 
While I stretch you 
Across the rack of pain 

(chorus)

No point in any of us 
Growing upset 
Let’s keep up manners 
And etiquette 

A side of wisdom, please 
With that stuffing 
You’re beet-red
All huffing and puffing 

When did politics 
Equal God?
When did we put our uncles
Before the firing squad?

Your Uncle Keith —
He’s always right
Now kiss my face and
Say goodnight

Thanksgiving Sinner

This Thanksgiving I’ll nibble jerky
Cos somebody just named my turkey
The snow’s crisp and even
I can’t feast on Stephen
And mulled wine has made things look murky

The turkey ran huffing and puffing
And now I can’t locate my stuffing
That feathery sinner
Has gobbled my dinner
And so I’m thanks-giving for nothing

Ethereal Autumn Sun

I am Seraphim voyaging to descend
Spanning the lake of invisible water
A spindrift of twirls of huffing wind
Falling-in Fall leaves gathered on a rusted altar
Blissing in delicate spirals I bend
Just where the river ends
Exalted and brilliant within intangible halos
I light the world then setting slow
In golden hues I fade then falter
Sublimely reimagined I do delight
To evaporate into the glow of night
Painting the moon with vestiges of the coming day

The Dream Devourer

The dream devourer 
consuming the man and his thoughts 
Mo ri yin
I see you 
I see you dashing away 
With an overwhelming perk
sprinting awesomely 
rupturing the mended portal 
wrecking the passing phase 
Mo gbo o
I hear it
I hear a deafening cough
ibon ti ke
the sound of gun fire 
I am scared
urging to get out 
struggling with this muddled dream 
tossing amidst the flashes 
of blade and brittle bones 
I strain to whisper 
I strain, huffing for strength 
peeping outside 
only to witness 
the mystic portrait
of the darkness 
puffing out smoke

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