Pokes Poems | Examples

The Beat of My Heart

Without a word I slip out of bed
and a thousand conversations
run through my mind
as I walk barefoot across worn carpeting.

Two nights ago, I barely made it home
while driving through a deluge
and water on the roads.
I defied the warnings
and survived
as bolts of lightning laced the sky.

I was the storm.
I was the silence.

Now as the sun pokes through
a thin veil of clouds
the sense of nothingness I embrace.

I must admit a year ago I loved someone.
She said that she loved my humor
my new stories and poems
and there was so much to share.

Now she’s a memory lingering in my heart.

This is my life, I say when alone.
This is what I’ve made it
as I watch a shadow dance on the wall—
it can be anything.

My chest ached the other day
when I bore the weight of humanity
while working at a grocery store.
Customers and I talked and traded jokes
but as the day wore upon me 
I longed to be in my time and place.

A housemate downstairs
shuffles through the kitchen
while I sit in my loft and play with words
longing to say what’s never been said.

Heart with money and Poetry in the material world

Sadly, only the heart does not always do,
you need the strength of the money too.
Money makes the world go round,
only fools would say that it is not true.
But the actions of the heart with money
those are the only stories that achieve glory,
a tale the people will tell more excitedly to you.

***************************************

If I talk, it creates a mess !
It's the fault of the poetic heart, I guess.
Poetry in the material world
pokes the consciousness
and put the material minds in distress.


(13.07.2025)

White Smoke Pokes The Pope

I know my partner
well and nigh, do tell a lie
for he stop smoking ~
but the loo has a chimney
that puffs white smoke, pokes the Pope

The Finger

I’m told the pen’s mighty and outwits the sword
but my finger is stronger and won’t be ignored.
It pokes and it swipes and it rants in a roast
then it quickly DELETEs to disguise my last post.

Though swords, they can cut, and pens, they can shame
the press of a button initiates flame.
All humor aside, I’ll admit it’s a crime
when I set fire to gasoline, dressed up in rhyme.

So, I’ll UPLOAD with caution and hold taut my lip
and think before shooting my words from the hip…
and I’ll walk-off responses so quick to offend,
keeping fingers off buttons like RE-ply and SEND.

Race Car

Race Car
The driver is one with the machine.
Every turn on asphalt would be tires burning.
A V8 with horse power, the car flies down the road.
Turn up the music and push the pedal to the floor.
Need for speed while the tires grip every turn.
What a rush to fly by while the oil burns.
This is the life of a man in a locomotive.
With torque the gears turn crank down shift.
Racing down the speedway on a straight away.
Man and machine compete to win the race.
Just one more lap through the trees down the road.
The checkered flag is just a mile to go.
Drifting around the corner.
Why do race car drivers drink milk when it’s over?
Under the sun the engine is on fire.
Pass by all the slow pokes with power.
Just like a spark plug the lightning keeps striking.
Like a racehorse, it charges to keep on fighting.
Driving fast is like having the feeling of being free.
Just you and your car, this is the way it has to be.

Be Kind

In the raffle
That is life
Strife is rife
Moral blindness
Snaffles kindness
But passion
Can fashion
Empathy
Rations for a while
Vile bile denial
Come on
Charity not depravity
Compassion
Turns
Guile, wiles & trials
Into Cheshire cat smiles
Sympathy
Shrugs become hugs
Affinity
Muddled huddles
Become
Cherished cuddles
Sensitivity relished
Pokes at folks
Now
Rib tickling jokes
So
Don’t fall behind
How
No need to look above
Refine your mind
Rewind & you will find
What
Defined Fab Four rapport
No
Don't push & shove
Why
"All you need is love"
Really..you sure
Yeah go on…try to be kind

Oi Oi Hoi Polloi

All aboard the bizarre Farage barge.. 

Unless of course you are from abroad..
.
Narcissist catalyst.. old school fraud..discord twist..

Can't resist.. staging the raging red mist.. 

Fist of Mob rule tryst does persist..  


Depraved raves..insist..craved faves..

Won't save slaves & knaves..

Hellbent they are sent..

To graves under the waves…

Foolish votes for ghoulish gloats..

Seedier media leaders lying..

Defying the dying..


Folks crying..ghastly ghostly boats..

Crude jokes delude..lewd masterstrokes denude..

Corporate rascal castle debacle floats..

On dank murky murderous moats..

Scuffles.. muffles ruffles & kerfuffles

Pokes & provokes just for bank notes..


The ubiquity of inequity

This poem or tome..

Every face…race should be.

Free to roam..

In this place..

We all call home..

The Onion

Satire is a tricky thing
And won’t appeal to half
Of its potential readers, 
But the other half will laugh.

The Onion is satirical
And I’m, for sure, a fan,
For it pokes fun of politics 
(At least, while it still can).

Like other periodicals,
It focuses on news,
With weddings, deaths and real estate
Attracting many views.

There also is a horoscope
And lots of ads as well,
But none of it is serious,
Which anyone can tell.

It always cracks me up; at times
It makes me laugh out loud,
The humor, though, intended
For a real specific crowd.

I recommend a reading
But I would advise you that
You may not be so enamored 
If you sport a MAGA hat.

jealous daffodil

Sparkles of faerie wings flit past the pink tulips
Sweeping and swerving, frisky faerie flips
Daffodil is jealous of this marvelous mythical attention
Pokes fun at floral’s spring gardening convention

i've just played santa for the first time

i'm talking world war three blues
and how the baubles resemble the planet neptune
one kid has trashed the grotto
flameless LED tea light candles on the mantlepiece  

another exclaims, 'can we stop talking and just take 
the photo?'
a girl says she wants a telescope
a boy says he wants a crane 

another says a fraggle stick car
helicopter parent and coo coo bonko
my daughter doesn't recognise me
tears of a clown stuff 

a kid claims the beard is fake and i say, 'look...',
i tell a family from germany
we can take a hundred photos, i don't mind,
i will get the son that red double-decker bus

you're wonderful people
they leave
the boss pokes his head round the door and says,
'brilliant, boy.'

Glimmer

A glimmer of hope 
pokes a hole in all those clouds;
American style.

My Haunted Home

Under the sink, there is a glow.
It’s something bad, that’s all I know.
I’m shifting unknowingly.
There’s a hole in my sock so my toe pokes free.
A monster is by my toe nail.
Against the window, there is suddenly hail.
Waking them with a clanging sound.
So now, there are ghosts all around.
I never did believe in those things.
All those supernatural beings.
Until I moved into my new home.
Where slime oozes from my comb.
I can’t even brush my teeth.
Without spirits making noise beneath-
This house with a basement…
That I own and don’t rent…
I always wake up from my wonderful dream.
Even though I almost screamed-
With joy that I owned a house.
Maybe it would have a haunted mouse.
He would be a great pet.
Immortal, so no need for a vet.
Maybe I’d learn some evil tricks.
In my haunted house filled with magic!

Moth Man Lament

Chasing this into that chasing that into this
chasing silhouettes into a half assed crevasse
echoing " boy what is your purpose on this earth earth. 

Poking the dark for a piece of velvet, a note from a harp
A claw pokes at the skin of the soul
a change of direction is needed again... pronto
Mamma was right nothing good comes from out of the dark.

Eating the light like a greasy moth 
pitting parched lips against brightness.
Just another false prophet holding an empty bic
in the cul-de-sac of middle class wish.

At least it was an honest attempt to find a grain of meaning.
In the dusk of my breath, the same silhouette yaps...
"Man" what is your purpose on this earth.

Letter to Poetry Soup

The laptop screen flickers
as I turn to you.
A dream lingers
and a branch outside 
my window waves.
I browse posts and comments
and I’m connected.
A bird off somewhere sings
a world waits outside my window.
I wonder what to poem
and what to share.
In quiet moments
reflections take shape
to fill empty pages.
Although we’ve never met
we’ve always been friends.
I must let you know
regardless of how far I’ve travelled
I’ve always come home.
The sun pokes through clouds
a touch of gold.
And the sky above—
it’s an endless ocean.

Tiger Lily

Go get em tiger, says my Lily flower
She makes my fire burn and turns my lips into lava
Your red strength and orange personality is more beautiful than the sunset
So, don't mind me if I just sit and stare under the aura of your sky
Waking up to your morning glory is the dream that finally came true
The drive that compliments my confidence
A good woman gives you a different kind of strength
A bold bloom of perseverance
That just smiles like a superhero content with the end
My tiger Lily grows from my heart and pokes through my t shirt
She reminds me I have a perfect love in the heartache
Because love is sacrifice learning through trials that didn't give up
Her petal kisses remind me to keep my head up
Every time she says go get em tiger
p.s. Lily did you know you were named after love?

• Short Pokes Poems
• Famous Pokes Poems
• Best Pokes Poems
• Read Pokes Poems
• Long Pokes Poems
• Pokes Quotes