Short Earphones Poems

Short Earphones Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Earphones by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Earphones by length and keyword.


Premium Member Close enough to touch

No date planned for tonight.
Side by side both sit with earphones.
Another brick in the wall.



Wordku: 5-7-5 words

AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Form: Other


Pledge

I pledge allegiance to to the flag
and the corporations
which it upholds
(and to the gmo's and burgers for which it stands)
One nation under corporatism,
indivisible,
with prisons and earphones for all.
Form:

Premium Member Taps 10pm Lights Out

Listen to poem:
*Image of Tap Water Drops by Pixabay. Taps 10PM Lights Out Drip, drip, drip goes my faucet a wrench is all that I need no tools to stop that racket earphones are more like my speed. RhymeScheme: abab 2021 August 16

Frosty Day In the City

FROSTY   DAY  IN   THE   CITY

Wetless day,  birdless trees,
Witless denizens of metropolis
Long await the bus into
The delights of Manchester.

Townless  bus waiters  -
Their earphones are essential
For Deaf  Man’s Buff  -
Tuneless music.

' No Farting Allowed ' - a Scene In a Car With Friends

~*~ ========================== sultry aestival zephyr's puffing as elated lilt's playing - I'm huffing abdominal heftiness yeah! it exploded! SUCCESS! OOOPS!!! earphones plugged in ears . . . they're laughing. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Form: Limerick


Love For Songs

I love listening to songs, 
From Taylor Swift's pop, 
To Olivia Rodrigo's rock, 
I listen to them prolong. 

It feels so amazing to listen to it all day, 
With earphones on, 
Singing and dancing, and I could go on. 
And all I can say 
Is that I can go listening to music till I am old and gray. 

2/7/22
Form: Rhyme

Music

It's what I live for
Flowing through my earphones
Seeping into my world
The reason that my hear beats
What I can't live without
What I live on
What I yern for everyday
Something that makes everything seem ok
The music that I need
THe words I can't say
My way out from this world I have come to know
Is thrugh these headphones
Form:

Stall'D Tears

Into the bathroom 
and close the stall door
Go to the corner 
and sink to the floor
 put in the earphones, 
don't care who hears
Breathe slow, close eyes,
 shake off those fears
Pull on the sweater 
and just hug real tight
Rest on these knees 
until all is set right
Get courage to stand 
and open the stall
Leave as if nothing
had happened at all

Happiness, Crocus In Snow

What is happiness but the falling away, however short, of suffering?
Would I hear the haunting, beautiful wind without 
the small spaces created by my earphones?
Would I know the joy of a child's laugh
if I didn't yearn for it to erupt from my own belly? 
The sight of the first yellow crocus
could not be so kind without the cruel snow
that tries to hide it.
© Don Munro  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Zombie Platform Tide Drawn Faces

The semantics always seem the same
While waiting for the morning train
Sat on the platform draped in rain

Just another statistic numbers
Emotionless state of zombie slumber

Wrapped up heads in over-sized earphones
And sun designer indoor glasses
Bough on a phone bought into by the masses 
Only to be tracked and profiled into classes

Surf through a tide of drawn empty faces

You'Re My Person

Your Heart is
Big and Mysterious,
My charming Husband.

Beating hard on a bike ride
Pulling our family onward
You listen to your earphones.

Besting me, admonishing me
Yet believing in me... Your faith
is Jewish/Buddhist/Christian.

Amused during thrillers
Belittling the monsters I fear
Sarcasm is your weapon.

Breaking stride, you smile
I know what you want
You're my patron.

You're my person.
Form: Triolet

Well Grounded

Earphones on and nothing playing
Music barreling in a dusty brain
Phones ringing and no one answering
Your voice was always assuming
That darkness, ever blooming
Set me free that day out in the wild
Hot, sierra brown mounds picking up trash
Empty gas station cheap as a rat
I threw my cell into the dust
The only thing with personality
The wind wouldn't carry your voice
And neither would I
And the ground assumed nothing
That is a beauty I have too long failed to appreciate

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