Long No sweat Poems
Long No sweat Poems. Below are the most popular long No sweat by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long No sweat poems by poem length and keyword.
He sat straight up in the saddle,
tired, no sweat left in him
as he hadn’t drunk a drop
for days. The white salt ring
left on his skin and the
horses neck were crusty, itchy,
stale smelling. He was tough
as weathered leather, taking
his last ride, the last mile,
the last day, saying goodbye
as he rode away. He was no
slouch, he would sit straight
up until he could no longer
hold his head. The horse
collapsed, dead from exhaustion,
dehydration, refusing to leave
his life long companion. With
a snap, the rope tightened as
the cowboy fell towards his
horse, the final ride over, his
final prayer answered, to
ride forever with his friend.
created 16 Jan 2019
Wish I was dumb
easily amused
Too thick to get hurt
not care if confused
Walk around half-gone
stare at the whole truth
Shrug my shoulders
right before I shoot
Being dumb’s simple
takes boredom away
too dizzy to feel down
or deflated in any way
Gazes at a cellphone
giggles at silly memes
More so the same sh!t
a billion times seen
Dumb has it good
needs little to do
Stares at the sky
never dawns why it’s blue
Sees a vivid sunset
pulls down the blind
Quickly falls asleep
with a blacked out mind
Dumb wears the T-shirt
gets soaking wet
Catches a fever
believes it’s no sweat
Eats crap all day
doesn’t care if sick
Ends up on a drip
watches it for a kick
Dumb and numb
guitars that won’t strum
A vacant skull
muffled out drum
Won’t beat itself up
as a rule of thumb
My world’s so f•ucked
dumb’s remains plumb
* * *
the world’s cleverest man once said ~ nothing to me ~ he wanted a life
By
David Kavanagh
I don’t trust the angels
They must have stolen my sun
I have worked so hard , done so much
I am so tired I am on my last blood
No sweat left, If I cry I Die
No luck left, I traded it for life
No shelter , No moon, No Love
No God, I am always cold
Trudging towards death
The sands are not halfway done
If I meet the angel who stole my sun
I will strangle them with my bare arms
I will not listen to whatever lessons I needed to learn
I will hang them at the pearly gates
To appease those ho lived in darkness
And to protect those who are yet to lose the sun
I don’t trust these angels
I am sure they stole my sun.
When is ‘Almost Good Enough’
never good enough?
When is ‘Clearly Not Enough’
an ounce more than enough?
When is ‘Almost What You Need’
the most you’ll ever have?
When is ‘It’s Not Only That’
the only thing that’s left?
When is ‘In Almost Every Case’
not in any case at all?
When is ‘In Lieu Of Everything Else’
the thing sure to be missed?
When is ‘In Actuality’
in real terms actually not?
When is ‘To Be Perfectly Honest With You’
the biggest lie you’ll hear?
When is the serious ‘Last Ditch Effort’
the one you continue to try?
When is the ‘Absolute Final Time’
the one you repeat again?
When is ‘Really’ not real at all
and spoken then in vain?
When is ‘Probably’ not probable
or even close to that?
When is the phrase ‘The Bottom Line’
the top of your agenda?
When is the trusted ‘Old College Try’
strictly out of school?
When is ‘Painstakingly Difficult’
the easiest thing you do?
When is ‘No Sweat—The Deal Is Done’
so much harder than before?
When is ‘Let’s Start At The Beginning’
the end of the debate?
When is ‘The Last Word On The Matter’
the beginning of what comes next?
When is ‘So What’ a euphemism
for the most important things you do?
When is ‘It Is What It Is’
categorically not, and never will be?
When is ‘The Bull In The China Shop’
ceramic and for sale?
When is the celebratory ‘Victory Lap’
the one taken in disgust?
When is the magical ‘Three Point Shot’
four points more than its worth?
When is the special ‘Love You Lost’
the only one you’ve never found?
When is the figurative ‘Bird In Hand’
the one that flies away?
When is ‘Bantering Back And Forth’
the silence you extol?
When will your words line with copper wire
to conduct the truth unrobbed
When will you cease to pander and mislead
—naked before the mob
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
It's a wrap. Ha-ha-ha
I need a nap. Ho-ho-ho
Completely zapped. Tee-hee-hee
What a pile of --- crepe paper!
Ha-ha!
I wish you luck. Ha-ha-ha
That's it for yucks. Ho-ho-ho
Now it's time to truck. Tee-hee-hee
Hey, man. What the --- flock!
Ho-ho!
From where I sit. Ha-ha-ha
You're a real wit. Ho-ho-ho
Don't ever quit. Tee-hee-hee
That's no --- sweat!
This poem smells. Ha-ha-ha
It rings no bells. Ho-ho-ho
It might as well Tee-hee-hee
Just go to hell! Hardy-har-har
And a nyuk-nyuk-nyk!
January 17, 2019
Entry in the "Would you mind getting your head out
of that filthy gutter contest?"
Sponsor: Mr. Pooling Yer-leg
(tee-hee-hee)
Once upon a time a hare challenged a turtle to a race.
A fox was appointed to establish the time and the place.
The hare made sport of the turtle's lumbering pace,
Saying, "I'll give you a head start so that you can save face!"
The race began and the hare became bored and lay down for a nap,
But the turtle plodded on since he was a determined old chap.
The hare woke with a start and not seeing the turtle in view,
Brushed the sleep from his eyes and away he flew!
He saw the turtle nearing the finishing line,
And mused, "No sweat! Everything will be fine!"
But old mister turtle crossed the line with a flair,
Out'fox'ing the hare and winning the race by a 'hare!'
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
Ground edges the rim of her lipstick stained coffee mug.
Sharp eclipsed moons shine upon endless day's everlasting nights'.
Butterfly eye bandages uphold bloodshot remembers that these days of our lives; are—Weeding out the faint promise, it was all a dream.
Lists written on used paper napkins, crochet into sculptures that symbolize finite past.
Balancing by tipping toes, stretched out arms teeter, a tad bit, toward edging out grounds; becoming taller.
Grass clippings flying through the sky sticking to his back; no shoes no shirt, top down, no sweat . . .
That same green grass edged the rim of her lipstick stained coffee mug.
Shots pile up higher and higher until mugs file lines up drunk enough to take mugshots.
On the brink of ground edgings, panic finds manic eating their Disco Biscuits.
Freak out!
I mean it freak. Come out or I'll...
Freak out!
Surrounded by ground edges that terminate somewhere within light speed and dark area; an obviously gray matter.
Time travels at life speed and life travels with your perception of such time becoming understood to become such as speed.
Time speed
Hovers
Around
Ground edges (and)
Life
That about sums itself up these days.
That being rested faceless upon their lipstick stained mugshots.
8/19/17 and 8-29-17
(First write in months and beyond times awaited)
*Intended to be
Submitted for contest: Ground Edges
And inspired by
Sponsor: John Lawless
*Did not submit into contest but giving its credit due...
what price to enter paradise?
just become a willing device
to extinguish non-believers
and other common deceivers
making this world so much more safe
when dangerous demons are quaffed
an extremely small price to pay
for our deity to hold sway
simply the cost of admission
for sins placed into remission
doing such necessary things
will make you an angel with wings
what price the entrance to paradise?
simply follow the ancient advice
comprehend what the holy words mean
not being for one instant unclean
there will be a harem or three
where all services are for free
no sins in pleasures of the flesh
all things there have been pre-blessed
beyond any real feelings
or the slavery of needings
no sweat, no fear, no need to hurry
the richest of realms, not to worry
watch miracles come into play
you shall know real bliss, they say
surely you don't want to delay
heaven and all that comes with it
really no need to fidget
do not be a heathen idjit
may we issue your ticket today?
Why is ‘Almost Good Enough’
never what you need?
Why is ‘Clearly Not Enough’
an ounce more than you deserve?
Why is ‘Almost What You Need’
the most you’ll ever have?
Why is ‘It’s Not Only That’
the only thing that’s left?
Why is ‘In Almost Every Case’
not in any case at all?
Why is ‘In Lieu Of Everything Else’
the thing sure to be missed?
Why is ‘In Actuality’
in real terms actually not?
Why is ‘To Be Perfectly Honest With You’
the biggest lie you tell?
Why is the serious ‘Last Ditch Effort’
the one you continue to try?
Why is the ‘Absolute Final Time’
the one you repeat again?
Why is ‘Really’ not real at all
and spoken then in vain?
Why is ‘Probably’ not possible
or even close to that?
Why is the phrase ‘The Bottom Line’
the top of your agenda?
Why is the trusted ‘Old College Try’
strictly out of school?
Why is ‘Painstakingly Difficult’
the easiest thing you do?
Why is ‘No Sweat—The Deal Is Done’
so much harder than before?
Why is ‘Let’s Start At The Beginning’
the end of the debate?
Why is ‘The Last Word On The Matter’
the beginning of what comes next?
Why is ‘So What’ a euphemism
for the most important thing you do?
Why is ‘It Is What It Is’
categorically not, and never meant to be?
Why is ‘The Bull In The China Shop’
ceramic and for sale?
Why is the celebratory ‘Victory Lap’
the one taken in disgust?
Why is the magical ‘Three Point Shot’
four points more than its worth?
Why is the special ‘Love You Lost’
the only one you’ve never found?
Why is the figurative ‘Bird In Hand’
the one that flies away?
Why is ‘Bantering Back And Forth’
the silence you extol?
When will your words wrap like copper wire
to conduct the truth unrobbed
When will you cease to pander and mislead
—naked before the mob
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2015)
The rib of Eve is fashion's price
A sadistic trap of six-inch heels
Some masochist's torture device
Or for added bust appeal
To wrap the torso so austere
And lift upon bands of steel
The French grandly name the brassiere
Paris, an exacting Madame
Wielding her whip of sharp cashmere
No slouching, suck in that diaphragm!
A lady glides on blistered feet
Starved to belong, sweet tooth be damned
No sweat allowed in any heat
Only single digit sizes impress
Shunning all those more than petite
Sisters, what happened to progress?
Our feminist freedoms manifold
We deserve to be a mess!
Gray is lovelier than gold...
4/12/19
For Quirky Tercets contest
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter