Short Bend Over Poems
Short Bend Over Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Bend Over by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Bend Over by length and keyword.
lets say perhaps perchance
in to have a nice day searching your on second thought
kiss off
and go bend over backwards doing it
It's starting to give me the blues
This weight that I'm needing to lose
My belly's so fat
It's Mortal Kombat
To bend over and tie my shoes!
"Bend over at the waist".
"Point your hands toward water".
"Bend more" Grandma says.
She pushes me from behind.
"There! now you can dive" she says.
I walked down a road the other day
and met a neighbor while she said "Hey,"
I watched her bend over
to pet her dog "Rover"...
what a darn lucky dog I must say!
Got referred to a female Urologist
After which I needed a Psychologist
"I'm a licensed physician
Now resume your position!"
Next appointment? Her sister Proctologist
Pa could not bend over to the stove like he should
The wood is too heavy for Ma is understood
To ease this plight
And make it right
Mama bent over after Papa got wood!
***
Bow your head down Aries .
Bend over.
Not out weakness,
Because of love of yours.
Emphasize defiance
By containing an unbearable burden,
Not comprehended by anyone yet.
A stitch in time saves nine
But a stitch in your side ain't fine
Hurts like hell
Bad words you expell
Bend over in pain while guzzling wine
© Jack Ellison 2015
Need a damn pick-me-up, like a whole new me
Where I'm actually mobile before a quarter of three
Still can feed myself
And things don't swell
When I bend over, I swear and fart foul air
Recently when I bend over, I make a loud noise
Stuff that's not nailed down sure gets destroyed
Kinda private but hey
It's really free that way
My attitude towards life is I'm still a wee boy
At my age, I make a noise when I bend over
It's the law but quite embarrassing, even for Rover
He barks when he farts
Pretends it's from another yard
Us humans shift our eyes, pretend we're not the owner
Males of the huge gray kangaroos,
So excitable early in the spring.
Do not bend over to them, or, in a blink,
You will be sexually abused.
My friend, who did not listen my advice,
Was badly hurt for it! Not ones, but twice!
Never mind my stare,
When yearning I fall.
I am here drowning in your bar.
Watching you sipping cola,
Can you see me,
If you can.
There you bend over,
Could you for me,
You are sipping again,
Could you me?
You may not be you.
You see things at the rest home
you don’t expect to see.
New veteran in his Korea cap is
whipping everyone else in pool.
He never has to bend over
and aim before he shoots.
He strokes it from his wheelchair
then rolls to his next shot.
Donal Mahoney
Small men do exist
Maybe it’s their egos
Maybe it’s their es
Either way they do not care
Attacking innocent people
Killing women and babies
Bombing without sight
They want the world to bend over
Accept them as a god
But everyone knows they are no gods
Just self-important jokes
© Poem – III/VII/MMXXII
Standing at the edge
Fear~pain~or fun~fear~pain
Big brown fearful eyes
Begging help me...
So I help her down onto the floor
Picking up her chew stick
Comes to me again
Big brown sad eyes help me
Understanding her agony
Bend over lift her up
Now she's in her comfort zone
Chewing away on her bone
Sitting next to the patsy
Days come and go
Some stand high, others bend over and bow
No need to cry or shout
If you feel pain, it is no doubt
Night will sneak in
Full of pleasure or sadness and sin
It doesn’t matter
To quench thirst you need water
Time will turn around
May hug, kiss you or pound
Life is a ball on a hill
Ready to roll down, hard to stay still
If I was any more flexible
I could bend over backwards
and touch the top of my head on the ground
If I was any more flexible
You could paint me green
and call me Gumby
If I was any more flexible
We could roll me up
And bounce me
If I was any more flexible
I would ooze into your wallboards
And watch your every action
Willows bend over a celadon lake,
Like village women in dawn’s stealthy light,
Rinsing their hair ere the daffodils wake,
And birds crochet the air with chorus bright,
‘Neath a lone cloud turning gossamer white.
bend over bare breasts and pink nose
the sun's silhouette fades where you lie
shadows retreat, wings rise to the sky
dark hills recoil while your hair lashes fly
shrouded in black and turning plumb
cherub's encircle the abyss of lost souls
in the eaves, deliverance rides an Aphrodite beast
her blood brings salvation to the tormented and weak
He hates the sessions
The therapist
Desperately trying
To have him conform
To the accepted
Societal mold
Yet
He chose his path
A long time ago
Now
They deem him
Broken
Yet
Time and again
He has to bend over
Betray logic
To accommodate
Now
The result is an
Hairline crack
He can feel
The pressure
Building up
(Ackmi Luis 2016)
She has pink shoes.
Little pink shoes.
See? How she can dance
and twirl? Jump so high,
much higher than her other shoes?
They are so easy too,
no laces or velcro NO!
No need to bend over,
just step right in
She's a princess, Elsa
Of Course!
Not Anna, ELSA!
With little pink shoes.
***
June 7, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
It has been a long time since
I have been away from you
and tonight, I miss your soft-glowing
presence, and the serenading shadows
conducting the silky symphony of
your peeling clothes. I miss
your reassuring steps, as you
approach the bed, and the gentle sagging
of the mattress as you press down
to bend over to kiss my cheek
as I fall into a blissful sleep.
Just a number
My age is just a number right ?
So what are all these changes ?
Sleep seems to come so soon at night.
My eyes don’t see as clearly.
Speak louder , I can’t hear you deary!
My back hurts when I bend over ,
It seems like I move much slower.
And all these things I used to remember ,
Now it seems like I can’t get it together !
But age is just a number .
Bend over me, autumn willow,
wrapping me in solitude's soft shawl;
listening to the breezes' sighing saunter,
swirling close-stitched leaves,
a gentle singing up and down your golden cords;
saturate my soul, ripened sweetness,
with harvest's dusky, mellow fruit.
Cradle me, womb of silence,
until the angry, bitter world ceases speech.
Copyright, August 8,2014
Faye Lanham Gibson