Ninety Poems - Poems about Ninety

It is Saturday afternoon everybody and their uncle is in Target buying things they will put into garage sales next summer their red shopping carts are full I had brought my friend here to get a shingles shot Since she is ninety-two and has a walker, I parked her at the door I won’t be here but a minute, she tells...

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There is no reason to die except An intent to be born again Considering this, we are living dead Why don’t we remember it then Scientists say that we use only About ten percent of brain cells The other ninety must feel a bit lonely They can’t show up anything else But a passive presence, or maybe not Entirely passive, the scientists say But nobody...

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Three thousand five hundred and ninety-two fish in the sea And I had to find a catfish who took a bite out of me The waves were crashing, but I still felt his teeth okay. That murderous fish bit me, then went gliding away. Three thousand five hundred and ninety-two grains of sand Landed in my bucket when I finally...

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Am I in a dream Only as it may seem I am music, I am the notes You once were the wreckage on which my soul floats Now I am the maestro, I am also first chair And now the crescendo (and you are not there) And it's okay that it's not you (I've found someone new) All colors came from three The...

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I know these are not hidden passions that will hide let say for instance when the country is tasting either tik or tok- I know even the world itself sometimes itches or bubbles or cheers like...

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April 9th, 2024 would be ninety fifth birthday poem for dearly departed papa The following words crafted soon after the soul of me daddy set adrift into the empyrean realm joining the rank and file of entities constituting spiritus mundi. Borne aloft into the netherland the body bearing thee soul of Boyce Brandon Harris birth name given...

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It's the ninety-eighth of January. The month that lingers on. It seems like Spring will never come and Winter will never be gone. As this longest month drags on and on we've all come to realize its either raining and warm or sunny and freezing . There is no compromise. At first we counted the days 'til Spring but we've given up on...

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This site is ninety-nine-point-nine percent pure For that zero point one percent there ain't no cure In the overall scheme Their effect has no steam They're as worthless as all get out, so immature...

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There once was a cat named Mr. Morgan Who sipped his share of Kentucky bourbon Sired ninety-five kittens Said he's not forbidden From abusing his sexual organ...

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October seventeenth ninety sixty one ... Born sixty one years ago, the follow poem from your bro transmitted courtesy flagship named Jacques-Yves Cousteau constituting countless ones and zeroes instantaneously traversing cyberspace as packeted, framed dataflow binary digits bit of information to acknowledge when thee transitioned being an embryo (approximately the second to eighth week after fertilization) approximately nine months prior, whose birth marked debut of bouncing daddy's little girl, whose inquisitiveness...

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Ninety percent of those I have loved are dead, ninety percent of those I have disliked are dead also. Ninety percent of my life has been spent travelling to find new places. Ninety percent of those places I have left with no regret. Ninety percent of my life I have wasted, ninety percent of what’s left is now taking a nap. A memory...

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Ninety-eight point six is normal In a human being, Not though, on thermometers Outdoors, which we’ve been seeing. In people, anything above Is fever, meaning sick, But weather-wise, such numbers Translate into one word – ick! I much prefer the days in fall Or wintertime instead, When if my body matched The temps outside, I would be dead....

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95% John walked out the front door. The screen slammed behind him. It was very loud in the stillness of the day. The man looked out at his land before him. It was his father's land, and his father's, and his father's land... Traditions held for generations, never broken, deemed unbreakable, by wind, or storm. Often on...

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A Psalmody of Psalm Ninety One God is our refuge, He is our shelter Kept safe from demons are those who’re blessed Beneath wings of the Almighty that cares Spared from the snares of unwanted foul quests. Fear not nightmares or terrors of darkness Under presence of angels we’re redeemed Freed from toxic perils that come by day All being as seen...

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If I could go back and do things different I would. To get a do over and make better choices I really would. But the truth of matter is I can’t. I got no time for woulda shoulda coulda’s. I’m done living in the land of regret. I gave him my ninety day notice years ago. Alexis Y. 05/23/2021...

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