Matador Poems - Poems about Matador

The famous killer seven the great... I killed seven mosquitoes All of a Sole Played I turned hero immediately,... ! A HERO NOW I AM......

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The Bull and the Matador Stalwartly, the bull gaits around the confines of the arena ring; snorting and displaying piercing horns and muscle-bulk build. For this he was bred and raised; to be a champion of beasts, and no matter where placed, will claim as his domain and ferociously defend until death, if necessary. Then into the ring swaggeringly treads the matador (flamboyantly dressed, touting a...

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To play with bull You have to have Balls of steel....

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the matador enters a china shop This can’t be good! Yelled out Cousin Slop. The rest of us began to laugh, which made him mad. If there is anyone you do not interrupt, it is my Dad....

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Carlos was a world famous matador He had suffered a ton of blood and gore He'd made lots of dinero Tanglin' with old el toro Carlos retired to be...

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Pedro, a slick, suave and smooth matador The pride of his native-state, Ecuador He'd flash his red cape The bull would go ape After each pass, the fans shouted, 'Encore!' One time Pedro let the bull come too close The crowd sat in stunned silence,...

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It was in Historic Forcados, Where I’d first touched Pride of Barbados: I’d run into A Talking Salvador Long arguing with Unshaken Ricardo, Whose interest were in Stark Bravado, His body partly building with Mamador … Bravado-Loving and Preaching Ricardo Would sooner he became A Matador Than A-Many-Times-Decorated Commodore, This proclaiming in a corridor, Where on display, besides Mamador, Were nourishing-seeming tomato And as nourishing-seeming...

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In the ring of life I stand with the bull called Time and me Anxious crowd anticipates of just what end they see Alone I stand with cape and spear And in-ev-i-ta-bil-ity Time enraged with froth and stamp Has set its eyes on me It comes at me with all its might I let my cape swing free Angry Time again slips by Its aim was...

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Near small Rapid City, a man came up to me, said,”Hey, I’ll show you a good time.” I thought that meant girls, turns out, as things unfurled, the man had something else in mind. We went to a garage, a rusty, grease-stained blotch, type of place you’d see a drug deal, not sure I could trust him, but then as we stepped in, I saw a...

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A well-groomed matador José Liked to moisturize with Oil of Olay His hands lost their grip The cape it did slip He was gored as he cried out "¡Olé!"...

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The Matador I was thinking of taken the bus Seville But don`t know what to do when getting there Unless I run into a female Toreador I once met in Seville she was good at killing things She had once worked at an abattoir, alas, too many men Surrounded her, she didn`t see me That was long ago she must be...

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Poet: Ken Jordan Poem: Matador Edited by: Sparkle Jordan written: October/2015 Bravely he poses before the gates of sudden death - Poised to face his most formidable foe - He's the Toreros, fearless with bullfighting etched way down in his soul. He's Debonair; In a Traje De Luces, holding Banderillas, and Montera. A Matador?.... Yes, Agile with grace, His skills are mystic Inside the Bull Ring where thousands roar! to watch him wave his Capote De Paseo, to the face of a charging beast - And with each narrow escape, the Matador De Toros, hear's the crowd roar! for his artistry...... He's a flamboyant maestro - King of the ring...

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The roaring bull enters the arena; clouds of dust raise. Then the slender matador in tight attire arrives; he has no knowledge of who is watching. The prettiest girl in traditional dress has set eyes on him; her posture is elegant. A red flower in her dark hair suggests an inflamed passion. It's a scorching day in Madrid; the fan she holds does little or nothing to keep her cool. Thoughts in...

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Limerick : Once a Toro loved by a Matador Once a Toro* loved by a Matador* Maimed between shoulders by Picador* Matador garrocha* Picador muchacha* Picador cornudo* Matador. *Toro : bull raised for fighting in arenas (rings) *Matador : « matador de toros », bullfighter ; usually the...

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In ye old days of yore on Malaga's dreary shore An untidy castle rimmed by salty moor Housed a lonely, oft-drunk matador In briny marsh grazed no sheep, but wild pigs three score Staggering oft around soggy, muddy estate in boozed, dazed state; prating conquistador With fitted bed sheet he dodged each, wild, voracious boar On one fateful eve a rabid...

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