Short Brawny Poems
Short Brawny Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Brawny by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Brawny by length and keyword.
In the Dandy lived a Desparate Dan,
Perhaps the world's strongest man;
A brawny westerner with stubbled chin-
His favourite dish was cow-pie,
Eaten whole...I tell no lie !
There once was a model named Connie
who wanted her skin to be tawny.
She took the wrong stuff,
so now she’s Miss Tough!
Her arms and her legs became brawny.
Feb. 20, 2016
* The rhyming vowel of COnnie and tAwny are the same in American English
A-n ant though small has brains,
M-en on one hand have brawny arms;
E-ven if men have big muscles
L-ots of them little ant harms.
B-eautiful lady likes shrewdness,
R-ecognizing sense and reason;
O-n twenty-third September,
N-ice to prefer brains over brawn.
Thor did not live up to his name
He was skinny, weak a petite Fontaine
Wren, his brother was a Herculean guy
Brawny and strapping, he caught many an eye
How did you get their names so wrong?
I asked their mother, Mrs. Wong.
Thor weighed ten at birth, Wren weighed three.
A cruel joke God played on me.
armed with bravery
the brawny battler excites
my heart beats ever faster
and my eyes open
wider with expectation
his sword glistens in the sun
like his bronzed muscles
good shall overcome
in the arena today
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, May 24, 2012
for Choka for a Chokehold contest (Amy Green)
My words are like poetry in the north
I dont know especifically, I dont know that I think much
Sometimes I'm off in a trail
Sometimes I am beheaded twice or thrice
I loss my track, where I am heading?
Where your face's glows in a distance
Or maybe in a mile
Where are you now?
Tis' my words wasn't brawny
Tis' my words wasn't much…
Cowboy
Brawny, Tough
Riding, Roping, Drinking
Spurs, Horses, Companions, Jewelry
Racing, Riding, Flirting
Spunky, Tougher
Cowgirl
cold and indifferent
relentless autumn rain
garnet ruby topaz
brawny clingy leaves
dangling from lean branches
holding on for dear life
waving so gently one moment
then wild in a raging ballet
stiff-necked and trembling
amidst gale winds
determined to never give up
its feat of beauty over strength
mystifying cycle of nature
AP: 1st place 2020, 2nd place 2020
I am a man searching for a place.
I turn about staring into a vista, just hence –
just erased.
The temperature nosedives
while eyes wince.
The congealing air grows muscles, a brawny blanketing.
It is a young ghost needing to be revealed
in the cold-sweat of existence,
a fledgling elemental seeking form.
I can’t help but feel that I am just coincidental,
not any part of what’s happening here.
The only thing more achy
Is Death; it makes blurry
Our visions when in bevy
Of one’s funeral – body
Transformed sugar briny.
It makes a Hindu use billy;
Christians use box browny;
Uses soil a Pathan brawny;
Whoever may see be balky;
And wish to see any alley
To escape You O, Bonnie.
Then give apple or berry,
Or grapes or mango bossy.
Nothing tastes sweater, Honey
When Death tastes on you bonnie.
Alimony,
Palimony,
Dogimony too
Not macaroni,
With acrimony,
Pay me or I'll sue
Send a money heap
So I will keep
The dog that leaped
Before the heat
Of who did cheat
Brought us defeat.
I'll sit around
In my dressing gown
His soft fur brown
When I feel down
He’ll lick to drown
My face's frown
To you who’s horny
This may seem corny
If you’re feeling thorny,
From a sexual tourney
End your scorny
You’re not so brawny!
Down where purple Wisteria blooms
Love's presence draws nature
Setting aflame breathless desire
Hearts soften thoughts alter
Birds pair, adoring sight fills love's cup
Beautiful in love's flight
Attentive you become charming
Affectionate delight
Spring's allure captivating my thoughts
So ablaze I love thee
Each absorbing thought is of you
Admirable yet brawny
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Contest: Spring is in the air
Written this 28th day of February 2013
If I could get your rooster wail
I write to world your rooster wail
At the bottom of your footsteps
On the creak of leaves
Of my own mortal being
I write a very quiet novel
If I could write
I write the whole world serious
I call sad to hear the joys of all
If I could write
I write the sea to your eyes
I call its water brawny
I write lakes to your eyelids
I call Its coast teared
It's just so helpless dear
I couldn't get your rooster wail
Imran can't be a lamentation wail
The thunder rang out…..
over….
the foothills, forests and fertile fields
like the battle cry of the Valkyrie’s.
Rain
Fell
like the
pounding
hoofs of their of their steeds.
Tree limbs
Lay
torn asunder
by Thor’s lightning,
reaching
longingly for the fabled halls of
Valhalla…………………..
mimicking the brawny arms of the Nordic Hordes.
The only other sound….
on the feral wind
was Loki’s laughter
as the flames rose
from the churches steeple.