Short Crisps Poems
Short Crisps Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Crisps by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Crisps by length and keyword.
philosophically...
radio muse-hicks
stay-shuns
every-ear
when...
the crisps-mess is
seize'n-all
sound
stans sand
Tomato and cucumber
Teatime sandwiches,
Salted Smith's potato crisps
And hot steaming tea-
With fresh home baked bread
Chocolate
Spread !
You know salt and shake crisps
See for people who don’t add the salt
They could call them No salt No shake
Think I will be Sir real this year
BETWEEN INNINGS
Tomato and cucumber
Teatime sandwiches,
Salted Smith's potato crisps
And hot steaming tea-
With fresh home baked bread
Chocolate
Spread !
Me and my friend Spider
went out for a spin in a glider.
We stopped off for crisps and cider,
then off to the shops
where I bought him some tops
and four pairs of shoes for a fiver
Form:
Leaves dancing down the winter wind boulevard come to rest on white covers.
Time for a nap; a long rest for un-raked crisps; food for spring babes.
Nature’s re-birthing is always a hungry one.
the picturesque
yessss
'round and 'round
at the very tip
my marshmallow crisps
yep
'round and 'round
az the spit
mine wrist
twists
the stick
Right? Fine. Finished.
During what avail, what time.
Shake this, crisps on bread.
Ultimo Dragon, wrestling and fights
Likewise, Mr Artist.
Package this, like fries.
McDonald's, eat much.
Yum, yum, delicious times.
Screwball sassy.
Likewise this.
finding dots, spots of glory
drawn upon satin-sheet-crisps
baked in apples and crated
to my inner thigh, memorized
by my tongue. splashes of thought
delicately trace a lone pillow case
where once we swallowed smitten
waves of wet sounds and empty graves
CONFESSIONAL
I confess to an addiction
If I’m honest, no it’s two
On the scale of dire affliction
They don’t count for much ado
So I’ll say it, take the risk
While confessional I’m tackling
It is salt and vinegar crisps
With a large side of pork crackling
Joe's song inspires,
But what transpires?
Door can open anywhere,
Does it lead nowhere?
None escape life alive,
Meanwhile, let's thrive,
None win in this pond,
None come second,
Finally, we're crisps,
Souls become wisps,
No use looking back,
No complaints, great lifehack!
Lap with the tongue
and O with the lips
a could be fire higher
Where oracles rest
on rings of stone
Inhaling crisps out of
would be bodies,
out of wood be houses;
a life
While the rubbing sticks
twitch-the full moon stares
Burning memories of the
first man-his first design
and warmth-now mine
Walkers crisps should be forced to comply
With trade description legislation
And stop disappointing their customers
With their artificial flavourization
When purchasing a bag of Walkers crisps
The refined palate of an epicurean
Would be gravely disappointed if they did not
Taste of Rambler, Hiker or Pedestrian
Form:
Walkers crisps should be forced to comply
With trade description legislation
And stop disappointing their customers
With their artificial flavourization
When purchasing a bag of Walkers crisps
The connoisseur would think it a mistake
If he was unable to detect the distinct flavour
Of sweaty cagoule and Kendal mint cake
Form:
Snow fell in dollops, in kite like laziness
too wet to stay white except in the margins.
The contrary air kisses each flake
melting each heart of ice.
Bittersweet the temperature falls.
Teardrops cling to greedy braches
reminiscent of hand stitched jewels
on a queen's gown.
The matted margin of lingering grass
crisps like spun sugar
snow flakes on the lash of night.
Little Bee in Hospital
Terrible news.
Nurse says I’m not getting any the better.
The doctor doesn’t know why.
Says need to watch what I eat,
“clinically obese” patients need to diet.
I’m stuck in hospital.
While People bring me all these gifts of food.
Thank you for the cupcake, crisps and coke.
Sure, to get better really quickly
waning wits smirked
vying voluptuous verge
meagre mood metamorphose
saucy spell's sauce
hoisted hankerings hummed
pruning punctured pukes
dark dribbles dazed
rusty reels raved
rusticating riff's creates
lanky lusts birthed
callous crisps cremated
crunched crescendos hibernated
crumbling contractions cruised
bursting busty bruise.
'20:05:01:18:32
Note: of harassed ambiguity.
I don’t have a basement
there’s no hills here to run to
no caves for miles around
haven’t stockpiled tins of beans
or tomatoes
or peach slices
panic buying hasn’t been bought
no guns no knives
except cutlery
and I’m not a film star
getting out of impossibilities
saving the world with nice teeth
so I guess I’ll just stay in bed
or pull up a chair
watching it all eating crisps
there is an alien in our house
it is like a lazy louse
it lazes around all day
i dont know y
but it doesnt find a better place to stay
it turns up unexpectedly
it does not eat healthily
i want to shoo it out
because it has become stout
it likes to eat pizzas
and chips
it can finish a whole
pack of icecream
and crisps
mummy i m telling u
its not a lizard or a grouse
there's an alien in the house
Yonder comes the morning new;
Dawns of the new November sun;
Autumn crisps and morning runs;
Such a crisp brisk newness shuns;
And as glory witness October passes;
Evening moon sets as the sun glare rises;
November dawns dainty biding crowns;
Yet uprising temperate scenic so frowns;
Misty the autumn crisps breezes;
Awaits December's icy so freezes;
Welcome November;
11/1/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021