Short Anatomical Poems
Short Anatomical Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Anatomical by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Anatomical by length and keyword.
D-isease
I-s
N-otably
A-bated
A-s
G-overnment
A-dvances
Y-our
A-natomical
N-iceness
Topic: Birthday of Dina Agayan (April 05)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Anatomical Date
She was primped and properly tony
prime rib encasing baloney
a troubling thing
anatomical bling
for all of her assets were phony
John G. Lawless
©2.2.2018
I can't say the catty word, much less ******?
I can say dick, prick, hard on anything but the anatomical *****?
Isn't it weird there's a lotta guys named after *****es
and very few women (I don't know one) named after ******s?
Da Vinci’s art the Mona Lisa & The Last Supper,
subjects of mega conspiracy theories include the portrait of her
Kept anatomical sketches, lists of lexicon & syntax in a notebook
The Codex Trivulzianus is a manuscript worth a look
Most every man, you know, tries to disguise
An anatomical part’s particular size.
They’ll brag and boast and joke
But details are never spoke
In the hopes that it might then be a surprise.
5/31/19
Bawdy Limerick Contest - Let's keep It PG-13 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
to succeed at something, anything is quite a rare feat
failure is a more common outcome, defeat, but lessons are learned
so if you want to get ahead in the world court failure
*Since nette said metered feet was alright [which are not anatomical feet]
I was hoping FEAT would be ok too since it is pronounced fEEt
Poet: Debbie Guzzi
Contest: On Your Feet
WEEKLY WRITINGS FROM THE HEART QUIETLY TRUE-
I just want to write you weekly,
Verses from the heart of one of God’s Son
Abated blessings of continued drums,
The rhythm beats of anatomical heart
Weekly writings from the heart
Impart electric eclectic energies sparks… Quietly True
5/1/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
from anthology booklets … Quietly True
I just want to write you weekly,
Verses from the heart of one of God’s Son
Abated blessings of continued drums,
The rhythm beats of His created anatomical heart
ABATED BLESSINGS OF CONTINUED DRUMS BEATS THE HEART WITH IN LOVE-
Impart electric, eclectic, energies, sparks… Quietly True
5/1/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
from anthology booklets … Quietly True
Who is disabled?
Is it me, or is it you?
Should disability be based
On an anatomical stock-take,
Or based on what you can do?
For I can climb mountains,
I can soar through the sky,
And I can slay dragons,
With just a blink of an eye,
I can overcome barriers,
Fight against impossible odds,
Ignore patronising glances
And condescending nods.
So who is disabled?
Is it me, or is it you?
It is completely subjective,
It’s just your point of view …
Who is disabled?
Is it me, or is it you?
Should disability be based
On an anatomical stock-take,
Or based on what you can do?
For I can climb mountains,
I can soar through the sky,
And I can slay dragons,
With just a blink of an eye,
I can overcome barriers,
Fight against impossible odds,
Ignore patronising glances
And condescending nods.
So who is disabled?
Is it me, or is it you?
It is completely subjective,
It’s just your point of view…
Obliteration.
Relativity Breaking.
Imagination.
Regeneration
Awakening Creation.
Pure Stimulation.
Metamorphosis
Conceptualizing life
Recognizing form.
Anatomical.
Perfecting Automation
Assembling Mind Storms.
:D
I got rhythm for Legos... Love I still work on....
==============
Thank you Nate and everyone. You were sooo much help.
Hugs and with my Love, I continue to practice Haiku.
Properly as 575
And then also as 585 to come
One great thing - is essentially -
like any other great thing.
They all fly from the same center,
not an anatomical space,
not a specific thingness,
but one revealed goldmine
overpouring.
What did I see,
what do I see?
Butter,
you buttering toast,
your hair all muzzy from sleep.
Yellow sunlight on the kitchen counter.
The blue plate
that has no ready words,
yet speaks for the billions,
that shine from
the one yellow yoke,
in its broken eggshell.
My eyes are forgetting day by day, the power in a single gaze
My mouth is so sick from the same taste of my lips just going to waste.
My neck feels so stiff, firmly un-gripped
goosebumps are thinking about jumping ship.
My torso is feeling so very old with nothing to show up for, no reason to pose.
Then are my hands, more fed up than me
touching the same skin, well who wouldn’t be..?
Getting to the legs, they’re seconds from dead
forever just dosing, especially in bed.