Pome Poems

Morocco Bound

Once upon a time
I set out to write a story
about going to north Africa
arriving in Ceuta
things were all in order
but no sooner on the bus
than detected reported
ejected from escorted to
and deported 'cross the border
it was to be an expensive
soft leather-covered book
and altho' I took
more than one look
I could not find the words
would fill a tome
and

name of pome

Once there was a young writer whose name unique her name was Poem young and free with her time what would she see, see fit to do she saw a tree as time went by she sat there all the time no one liked her name was so weird and she was more all they

Pome For The Day

As I pull on my socks
At the start of each day
I notice my feet
Seem further away.

I WRIT A POME

I writ a pome that shocked the teachers
Knocked the collars off the preachers
Awoke those sleeping in the bleachers

Then I wrote another one
Made it funny just for fun
It ended ‘fore it was begun

My pencil, such a heavy weight
My lines all crooked, never straight
I cast my lines, as wormless bait

Then someone said: “I liked your poem”
“it took

I Rited a Pome

I rited a pome
While sitting at home
And scratching my dome
With a toothless old comb.

I tried really hard
Out there in the yard
To make a neat rhyme
But it took too much time.

I looked up and down,
I searched left and right.
I felt like a clown 
Whose wig was too tight.

Then down came the rain
And cooled off my brain.
My

Pro Choice Pome

bite of wisdom
                                 
                   

The Pome

I wanted to be famous,
So I thought I'd write a pome.
Somethin' reely spiritchul,
With touching undertones.

Somethin' folks would reed about,
When I'm dead and gone,
And call me poet, artist, bard,
And put it in a tome.

Them great, big heavy books folks buy,
And never reely reed;
But if yer in one of them books,
Then folks are all agreed,

That yer the

Pome Du Jour

Pome du jour

Rudderless and leaderless we will traverse

The seas and the trails 

Of meter, rhyme schemes and tropes

(If we please)

And land on Moot Point - somewhere north of San Francisco.

The medium is, after all, the message (per Marshall McLuhan)

And a poem must need not 'mean' but 'be' (per Archibald McLeish)

Hence, loose the bonds of that

Pome Du Jour

God bless the counter tenor
King of Kings, Lord of Lords
Member of my divine Parliament
Halos abounding and sounding
Of Celestial bliss and perfectude.
\Pitching pulchritudinous pitches,
Pushing me to transcendence.
No God can touch this
Nor man bring down.
God bless the counter tenor

The Pome

THE  POME

I wanted to be famous,
So I thought I`d write a pome,
Somethin`reely spiritchul,
With touching undertones.

Somethin`folks would reed about,
When I`m dead and gone,
And call me poet, artist, bard,
And put it in a tome.

Them great big heavy books folks buy,
And never reely reed;
But if yer in one of them books,
Then folks are all agreed,

That yer the

My God Pome

All the things i've come to bleed for in the past
childhood held hopes that where never ment to last
my inosence long since sinned away
carrying the crossafix i'll hang from it's my grave

but your beleafs be long to you 
in the end will they hold true
when refelcting on the life you've lead 
and all the tears

Mermaid Pome

mermaid pome 

she is lofty but not out of reach 
hair is shimmering in waves 
waking me with her touch 
almost 
 but not too much 
she calls out my name 
wait she says 
and then she stops to breathe 
she is my mermaid 
playing me like the fish i am 
honey i was still

Whiteflowers Pome

Whiteflowers Poem 

A Pome for Amarylliss 

A pome _a heart without a home, 
finding its way alone no song 
singing endlessly in time 
never drinking wine but sober this time 
righting words in the nite and then 
writing them on paper that never crinkles 
sensing smiles in ladies dimples 
wondering at love. 


Copyright © 2006

A Pome For Parmeflower

Word will not describe 
world can not hide
young man looking in yard
for something to do (Oh look)
these flowers are funny(purple)
they are smell funny(holds it to his nose)
Someday I will have a woman like my mother
some one to love me a wife?
no it will now never be
but I tried Oh how I tried
but I have something

Whiteflowers Pome

A pome _a heart without a home,
finding its way alone no song
singing endlessly in time
never drinking wine but sober this time
righting words in the nite and then
writing them on paper that never crinkles
sensing smiles in ladies dimples
wondering at love.

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