Short Backhand Poems
Short Backhand Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Backhand by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Backhand by length and keyword.
Gave Mr. Bro’ man a couple of dollars,
with a frown gave he a backhand holla
Said my alms were light,
and my palms were tight
Man, how I hate ingrate red stop collars!
Irish accents quake my female southland.
Males 'neath Newsboy Caps stimulate dreamland.
Irish yearns may want touch,
Did not seek to feel such.
Ireland trips could stimulate mate's backhand.
hands flying around tv monitors.
playing tennis, feeling like john mcenroe
with my headband on and nintendo
remote in hand.
coffee tabled comentators
add to the suspense, break point,
mental note play to his backhand
and dont trip over the couch.
Form:
Background backhand
Backdrop backbite
Pathway railways
Take-off target
Farfetch courage
Tell tail junk mail
Distant lover
Under cover
Up start breaks heart
Jilted lover
Under cover
0/23/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Black and blue
what did she do
to deserve that black and blue eye
she was just to happy
she was just to proud to smile
and she just laughed too much
when a backhand meet with a kiss to her face
and with the snap of a bone
cigarette burn and bruised lips.
-8/26/2015-
Picture #3
I’m tempted to backhand the ones who call
us sixty-somethings old or elderly.
How dare they use such terms describing me?
Infuriating! Boy, do they have gall!
from Today's Vocabulary Word Is "Elderly," posted February 23, 2018
Date: September 21, 2020
Contest Title: Rithimus Divisa 6
Sponsor: Gregory Barden
Bell rings
Two kings
Tap gloves
No love
Attack
Hard smack
Right hook
Well took
Left jab
Ribs stab
Backhand
Just lands
Sly one
Head spun
Elbows
Who knows
Eight round
Astounds
Heads clash
Blood splash
South paw
Breaks jaw
Crowd shout
Knockout
Countdown
Lost crown
Arm raised
God praised
A Brian Strand PREMIERE Poetry Contest
Checked how many syllables
27/05/20
Muhammad Butler
Joker's poem
There's the mighty joker
We wondering if he ever played poker
But only supplies a bad body odor
But the fact remains his a filthy flirter.
Wondering if his jokes are taking him somewhere
But the bottom line is that he doesn't care
Weather or not he his been compared with someone
There he is fighting batman
But now on the backhand
Simply judge because he lives in a thresh can.
Sitting here in rhythm’s rhyme
What bait to use to snare
What size hook will do the job
So many to compare
Fitting spaces into time
Or backhand cutting lob
Splitting places walls to climb
With faster graying hair
Harder now to weave and bob
Timing’s on a tear
Icy teary blue eyes rime
Hang it all
The rig’s too small
For a longer
Stronger
Line
One has to cut it fine
Like one sweet corn
Or two carbuncle
Slice it now and
Bob’s y’ r uncle