Pouty Poems | Examples

Lust

The beauty of passion
In a poisonous fashion
Attention feels rationed
It’s a fatal attraction 

Ravenous biting
A scandalous whisper
Addicted to fighting 
With Lady Love’s sister

A burning temptation
An aching sensation
You lose all orientation
When she’s on rotation 

She makes you melt
Can’t take the heat
Best lips you’ve felt
They taste so sweet

Perception is cloudy 
Her lips turn pouty
Her touch is inviting
She keeps things exciting

She sneaks up from behind
Takes control of your mind
She’ll rob your heart blind
And keep you confined

She’s the primal urge
The desire to merge 
To be skin to skin
It’s the sweetest sin

She’s love without trust
Pure chaos that’s unjust
Push her away if you must
Or keep dancing with Lady Lust

A Flock Is Encircling an Esophageal White Sky

Above a beached bleached paperback, "The Doors of Perception",
a pent-up penchant for greed is flung wide open:

The esophagus of a seagull sky grows narrow
until one seagull stomachs trash with zero
tolerance for sharing. Squeaky double doors apprise
descending gulls this bird has wings doubling in size.

Squishy moist sand, footprint-ridged into pouty lips,
chased-away seagulls waddle toward crushed crumbs.
Captains trudge farther ashore or return to ships.

Eyes of a Lover

To love is to burn with passion, like flames of a fire.
                                                                ~ by poet


On canvas, her loveliness was yet a vague concept
A beginning sketch in shades of charcoal grays
by the hand of one who knew her in greater detail...
the gleam in her eyes; curve of her lips when she smiles

Her pleading expression bemoaned when her lips parted
The artist's masculine hand trembled as he painted her
Tormented with need, she looked at him while in a pose
His eyes replied, "Not yet. I need to paint you in this light."

With brush, he quickly began filling his palette with colors...
peach blush for her cheeks, soft rose to tint her pouty lips
She opened her eyes to reveal irises dancing in hues of blue
He'd captured her beauty's nuance with the eyes of a lover

A Thing You Say Response To Beauty Queen

Plush lips and a pouty face, 
still I can’t hear a thing you say;
Distracted by all the work done 
in the name of high fashion;

Now you look just like a toon,
sponged with what’s real covered up;
Pineapple skin seems a bit phony,
leave all that at the bottom of the sea;

Starved for attention;
I see it in those sparkling eyes,
plush lips, and a pouty face;
To erase such natural beauty? Tragic.
 
Morphed into a filtered edit,
straight from the bottom of the sea;
Plush lips and a pouty face,
still I can’t hear a thing you say. 


Response To Beauty Queen By Bailey Underwood

the evil inside me

I’m a full-dressed villain,
Wearing the iron maiden’s cape.
Squint eyes,
Pouty lips:
“Be careful who to throw those rumors,
You cannot escape.”
As faithful as sheep,
As treacherous as fox.
You will never see me coming:
I hunt,
I kill.
I’ll put your chopped-off head inside the box.

Smashed Elfchen

       Smashed 
      into oblivion  
    that pouty lip;
  You asked for it
        silently.

SELF PORTRAIT

A skin, bit rough, and brownish fair;
A rounded face and short black hair;
Fine vignettes on a wide forehead 
that seems to think the ways ahead. 

Cherry red lips, thick and pouty;
Two big ears, a nose that's humpy;
Big black eyes with flickery wink 
seem to fathom the way you think.

Self portrait poetry contest 
7th place

Alexandra

Burning blue eyes like shining star 
Like sunshine with a fiery flare 
Her gleaming glare from near or far 
Tames the heat of a flaming stare 

Her pouty lips of cherry red 
Speak in silence of her great charm 
The luscious look like heart that bled 
Rouses a true love, sweet and warm 

Her shiny skin, fairer than milk 
Lights up the bleakness of faint nerve 
Her glowing hair, softer than silk 
Reflects the bright glow of her verve 

Wondrous beauty without compare 
Like a goddess from up above 
Treating her ill would be unfair 
For, life is the gift of her love

Poetry is in Charge

Poetry is moody, she can be pouty and sad.
She can be vibrant, dancing the chicken dance.
I allow her freedom to be herself.
It does me no good to feel I am the boss.

Poetry is a chameleon. He is flexible.
He wakes me up in the night with an end rhyme.
What the heck!
Poetry is a teaser.

Poetry is not just a he or a she.
They is also a we, an us, a them, collaborating.
Going off in directions I could not outguess.
Doing what I never knew they could do.

Poetry slides onto a page with loops and whorls.
Laughing at my consternation.
Taking me totally unserious.
Poetry does not listen.

Sometimes I have this weird feeling I am in charge.
Poetry laughs
Pokes fun at me
Smacks me upside the head
Flies out the window with a hamster on her back.
Reminding me who is in charge.

Lady In Red

pouty painted lips
long luxurious hair flips
leather red bottoms

I Do Not Want To Work Though

Swimming makes me feel lighter, it lifts me up and gives me joy.
I gave it up awhile back, but have no idea why said Mrs. Loy.
Maybe it is because you husband pouts? Her sister-in-law suggested.
Or because when you swim your head clogs up all congested.

Mrs. Loy had to admit she did curb her behavior, so her home not to sully. 
Trying to do whatever she could to please her husband who was a bully.
Her sister-in-law said, “Maybe you could leave the lout and swim with me.”
But Mrs. Loy did not want to trade staying home all day for a life of joy and glee.

Afterall, her days were nice until her husband came home from his job. 
Her weekends and nights were horrible, but she did not want to leave Rob.
She had a job once upon a time and she truly did not want to spend time at work.
Trading for a miserable life she lived with a sullen, pouty, put-down-artist of a jerk.

I Am Unapologetically Me

I am a steampunk mind whirling against the face of new
Colorful in all directions, I like what is happening inside
I live my truth, my dendrites dancing in happy rhythm
Others complain they are stagnant, I live not to be

My pouty lips are natural, no liposuction or faux injections
There is blue green in my eyes with flecks of gold interest
I am an erudite, talented, eager, enthusiastic, and joyfull me
Stand back if you do not understand, for I am ready for lift off

Best Blessing

Her sweet smile is like the rising sun 
that brightens my heart when it is faint, 
like a brightly blazing star 
that sparks shimmer to stir my blood. 

Her sparkling sights are so divine; 
They heave hope for my dying spirit
like a fully flourished moon 
that lights my path till break of dawn. 

Her pouty lips gloriously glisten; 
Their scarlet shine bolsters my courage; 
They rouse resurgence to my dying ember 
like a silent spell that rouses my faith. 

Her spotless soul is like perfection,
like an exam that got no wrong. 
Her cheerful charm is like diamond; 
It beams beauty to my livid horizon. 

For the most precious thing of all 
is the treasure hidden inside her chest. 
She gives me hope when I'm so hopeless. 
She pampers me when no one cares. 

Truly, she is my best blessing. 
Being with her makes me feel serene. 
To be around her this yuletide season 
is my greatest gift of all. 

I don't need to look at the mirror; 
Seeing her makes me see my own face. 
She's the image of my better self; 
My own flesh and bone. 

November 17, 2022 

Best Blessing Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh

Why You Wasten Time Praise God-Praise Jesus

Why you taking all that energy and time
Being ungrateful pouty wasting all of your life
You hourly daily time disgusting unredeemable on making up lost time
Complaining sustaining in your sorrow in your brief lapses of unbelief
Miss spoken unspoken silently and loud you're disbelief
A wise man once said you may kill time but one day time's going to kill you
Revelations part sometimes hard but yet so true
Lord I ma stop mine confession find the right now confessing I'm praising I am in worship with you in my mind in my heart continually so second by second by minute by minute by hour by hour audibly and intangibly in my mind now that I praise you been made free, in Jesus Name always 
Amen



9/15/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©

Welcome To Age Thirteen

angry pouty blonde wants straight hair
misunderstood redhead wants to be a blonde
annoyed brunette hates her mother and her curls
evasive curly-haired teen wants thinner hair
peckish thin-haired girl wants to be a redhead
Welcome to age thirteen

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