Short Axe Poems
Short Axe Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Axe by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Axe by length and keyword.
How wonderful is the sandalwood
that even when it succumbs
perfumes the axe that cuts it down!
The straight forward attitude mine
Bestows me a killer quotient fine
Wherever I traverse and traject
Let there be all peace project(ed)..!
What should I do?
Crazy mad man
What is going on
Hyper Bass
Ming – Busy
What should I do?
Do not taunt me
Or flaunt me
I’m ready
Blood-thirsty
Alfred the Great
Said, " Peace without axe I will bring with baptism and ring
And beyond all ken
Dunk enemy king and wed Saxons with great Danes to create Englishmen."
Eddie Johnson's neck, severed by the axe
On account of a few ethical cracks
Found in his off-duty car
Asleep outside of a bar
For a couple beers ~ politically whacked
Painful cracked heel
Wolf nipping at the entrance
Axe waiting to fall.
(January 11, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
Tom Turkey's doom again was kept at bay
He wasn't picked for Thanksgiving entree
Hunkered down to keep his head
His pals were victims instead
Tom survived to live for another day
Tom Turkey got lost 'midst the teeming flock,
Thus, avoiding the dreaded chopping block!
Hunkering down spared his life,
Averting the carving knife!
He now recovers from traumatic shock!
It hangs right down below my knees,
And ladies beg, ‘ Let’s try it, please.’
They’ve never handled such a whopper
As that, my super massive chopper.
Ridiculous exaggerations about the size of my axe, of course!
For Susan’s contest
Hope no one's offended by this...
I'm Made of Iron, Hard and Lean
My Name's Well Known, I'm Wicked Mean!
Heads Still Moan from My Crack,
Some Went Under, Upon Their Back;
So if you See Me in a Fight,
Run Like Hell, yea Take Flight!
For Peace and Mercy I Have'nt Concern;
It's Blood I Crave, and Yours I Yearn!
Axe forgets and soon is forgiven,
We know, trees do not take up the gun,
But work hard sans sad grin
To keep planet’s plants green;
And sun sets for the day, its job done.
We humans... no sun are,
Nor are trees mean by far,
Alas, things revert back whence begun.
____________________________________________________
Reflections | 04.02.2017 |
The pols say: ‘A soda tax is OK.’
Cynical voters nix them anyway ~
For they rightly suspect
Pols just want to collect ~
Behind it all, a revenue grab preys
____________________________________
Between 2012 and 2019 'sugary drink' taxes
of 1 -2 cents an ounce on Coca Cola and such
were nixed or repealed by the electorate in
NYC, Philadelphia, and Chicago.
Attila's axe quick and witty.
Wallering away in self-pitty.
Double edge bladed words,
characteristic of a domestic carp.
I take what you say in stride,
think and analyze.
Calling me ugly names,
is your judgemental opinion game.
You think you've won,
and lowered me to your domain.
Attila's axe so quick and witty,
liquor impaired your judgement
and made your mind scatty.
Form:
Im living in my pigpen
Its my kitchen its my den
Flunking school just can't sit still
My moms convinced I need some kind of pill
I just need a haircut every now and then
At school don't need no paper I don't need no pen
Time to pick up this axe show a little will
Time to get off my butt get on my axe and KILL
[ axe being a guitar ]
badger Santa was the head of the Winter Mafia
godfather of the forest in non-Santa town
animals came to kiss the ring
asked for favors
he was the boss
they brought offerings
hoping it would be enough
badger Santa ran for president
he had the worst character traits
but the animals were afraid to not vote for him
afraid of repercussions
history perpetually repeats itself, said the historians
The fleeting journey,
The fallen army.
They came in ranks,
Some fell like planks.
They went across a bridge,
Some fell over a ridge.
They travelled at night,
Some things were hidden from their sight.
They fought monsters,
Some fled on bolsters.
They pushed beyond the boundary
at the cry of the canary.
It was a mission to be accomplished,
At the fountain, they'll be replenished.
January 4, 2024.
My charming husband hails from Halifax
Where they make the world’s finest beeswax
For years he worked preparing income tax
Wearing a suit and tie with neatly pressed slacks
He would take care of details including sales tax
Correspond with clients usually by phone or by fax
The day he retired he reached an all-time climax
I proposed he start to learn to play the sax
But he says he loves to chill and just relax
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Even as the forest grew thin and frail,
The trees kept cheering the axe.
For the axe was cunning — smooth with speech,
And wore a handle carved from their flesh.
It whispered, “I am one of you,”
And they believed —
As the sound of chopping became their anthem,
And their roots trembled beneath their faith.
They fell, one by one,
Singing loyalty to their destroyer —
Until the forest was gone,
And only the axe remained,
Lonely, with nothing left to cut.
The tree in my backyard has been watching me since I was three.
As time passed, its gaze has never set me free.
In the light, it gives a shadow;
in the dark, it hides the light.
This tree makes my life just not right.
Like the other night, it knocked on my window, gave me a fright.
This damn tree is trying to take my life;
I know it looks at me like a killer with a knife.
So with an axe, I hacked it to the ground,
And joyfully, wildly, I danced around.
Early in a damp woodsman's camp
seeing sawyers from a logging town
to stop the conversation bogging down
as asked my age among other things
I replied, 'Cut off my head and count the rings,'
then had to be quick-witted and fast-footed
made a bee-line through the trees
so as not to lose my noggin
when a burly lumberjack grabbed his axe
I ducked and dodged his mighty swing
which (in a nonce) saved my bacon (and my bonce)
and them's the actual facts