Short Bopping Poems
Short Bopping Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Bopping by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Bopping by length and keyword.
Ranton Rave made Top of the Pops
Vilifying Rap and Hip Hops
That man can croon
A dance-to tune
Accompanied by bopping cops
we have a van
with music cans
so we started a band
as we shop
and hoilday stop
we were buying and bopping
it was
FANILY HOLIDAY SHOPPING
this is the season
for this reason
there will be more
you see as you go
shopping and bopping alone
some wil carry star spanbler
those
HOLIDAY PANDLER
we're looking
my minds cooking
try to fine that pine
thats not to tall
are small
but won't fall
we bopping and hopping
CHRISTMAS TREE SHOPPING
this time of year
you share
your feeling
here's what a
appeeling
read the sign
for bopping
and and down town
now buy
your
CHRISTMAS SHOPPING ON LINE
you'll know it well
just by the smell
as you or bopping
holiday shopping
it flows in the air
and you or aware
as you about to choke
its
CHESTNUTS AND SMOKE
It's that time
Have others in time
Help thoses màbe blind
So be kind
Have a heart be a part
It a holiday
That's our way
Your stopping and bopping
Walking together and talking
CHRISTMAS SHOPPING
Listen to poem:
Love is buoyant, bobbing and bopping.
Love is lolling, limber and lithe.
Love is exuberant, effusive and effervescent.
Love it sparkles, shimmers and scintillates.
Love is capricious, unwitting, unintended.
Love is deliciously unfathomable.
Above all else,
Love is what you want it to be.
cue words:
motions
to ebony tuned
rhythms
slicing stolen space
with sable
circuitous undulations
to lexical intoxications
of syllabic tones
hip cupping
silent scribed screams
of euphoric meters—
hearts jazz bopping
hip hopping
on tranquil winds
of peace and love:
words cued…
i n s i d e
3 minutes or so heaven
stress
annoyance
earthly woes
in temporary suspension.
excuse me, world...
stop...wait right there!
we'll meet up
when I'm through
tapping my feet
snapping my fingers
bopping my head
to a catchy beat....
thank you!
' ' ' ''''''''' '''' '
to dear soupers of winged hearts
holdings hands with charmed moments
drenched in laughter bopping sweet
…valentine huggs from me!
©
------------------
PD's Leftover Valentine's from nette onclaud
Tiny feet scamper across dewy seas
Firefly eyes dart amidst blades of dark green
Moonlight shines softly on faces that tease
Tiny feet scamper across dewy seas
Bopping and hoping between limbs of trees
Teeny folk dancing that no one has seen
Tiny feet scamper across dewy seas
Leaving no footprints to tell where they've been
Charlie was a gentleman
yielding to her wants;
always first to eat
jumped ahead in line.
Felisha was her name;
first, before he joined.
Ranking ruled her mind-
so he must obey.
Letting her steal treats
and his favorite lap;
passing him in halls
while bopping his head.
She died at thirteen.
He lived until twenty-
missing her so dearly.
Charlie was a gentleman.
The Big Easy called to me
Packed my bag and went to see
New Orleans a place to eat
Took a stroll down Bourbon Street.
Summer night a sound of jazz
I'm bopping along full of sass
Hearing syncopated blues
Music followed to rendezvous.
Have a date to eat soul food
Hungry and thirsty in the mood
The Big Easy helped me unwind
Shrimp gumbo tasting mighty fine.
Smooth jazz
Playing on the radio
Hearing the bass
Grooving some more
Stomping on the floor
To the pulsating rhythm
And cadence streaming
To the flowing, fluttering
Oscillating, palpitating
Rhyme ripples
That are shaking
Pounding and quaking
Bopping side by side
With the beeps and bops
Ticking to the vibrations
Of holy beat ecstasy
Into the dark night of the soul
Tripping, skipping, lipping Lee. I’ve got a wart hog, you’re on my knee!
Spiking, liking, biking me, I’m going to travel, far as you can see.
Hopping, bopping, cropping, key. Fits in a door knob, bigger than me.
Smacking, tracking, fracking, we. You are a he, I am a she.
Shoving, loving, doving, bee. From unknown places, now here with thee.
Wondering, thundering, asundering gee. Leave well enough alone, and I will get you some tea.
Sitting with a sister in law of mine
listening to music and having a good time.
its cold but who cares we are rugged up
happy the fact where for once not in a rut.
laughing and bopping not a care touch wood around us
kids are finally settled the amount here we could fill a bus.
haven't submitted everyday like i said i would
been heaps sick and wish that i could.
anyways all have a good time
and theres another on the spot poem of mine.
12-6-2016
Gamble and Huff
with all that rhythmic stuff
Throwing down and making 'em get down
to that sweet soul 'Philly Sound'
The Jacksons, Teddy, Phyllis, and the Mighty O'Jays
sweet pulsating sounds for days on days
Fingers snapping, toe-tapping, and heads nodding
Beautiful bodies up bopping and Soul Train hopping
Peanut Butter and Jelly on bread, so sweet
a Philly combination that can't be beat
Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff
Oh so smooth and sho Nuff tough
who wears short shorts?
she wears short shorts.
a cute song from the seventies.
with preteens bopping around showing their cute fannies.
who wears short shorts today?
In this restaurant a pair of them just went shuffling by.
beneath them there were wobbly, jiggly, wiggly white legs.
the wizen crone is at least eighty.
does she have a mirror?
can she see?
she follows an old guy out.
I nearly fall out of my chair when she calls him “Daddy”.
surely he could tell her.
The concert hall was filled with kids,
Their families in tow.
As nana (and my husband, grandpa)
We were thrilled to go.
We clapped our hands and sang along
While bopping to the beat,
An audience enchanted;
(For the band, no easy feat).
It’s wonderful to see the world
Through children’s waiting eyes,
So ready to receive the joy
They rightly recognize.
And it’s a privilege to be there
As witness to their growing,
And maybe add a little bit
To what they’ll end up knowing.
damn
back on the street again
the dime bag copping
ego dropping
dampened dope dreams street again
a street in a burg called the blues baby
where wicked witchy women are on the stroll
bopping to rock and roll
as i light upon the utterly wanton wishes of woeful whores
where even the sages are bores
and destitution oozes from the pores of us junkies
johns
and drunken few
and what are we all trying to do'
just pay our due baby,
JUST PAY OUR DUE
2012...free cee PHREEPOETREE
Following the yellow line of the here and now
The hum of the tires sings to me
A melody that assures me the trees understand their purpose
Shades of green ripple a routine jive,
Hello and goodbye in the same breath
Ever vigilant hawks soar through vertical clouds
Screeching in time
To the harmony of wind, bopping through open windows
The view in the rear view mirror is hollow
A tunnel reaching to a distant memory
The hills surrender to the sky
I surrender to the music of the road