Short En Masse Poems
Short En Masse Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about En Masse by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about En Masse by length and keyword.
Words of malice, curses flamed,
hiding in the past
No license needed to hunt through time
—the present armed en masse
(Dreamsleep: March, 2020)
So here's to Happy Tubby Tuesday,
The big New Orleans jazz & blues day,
With the drunken revelers en masse...
On second thought, let's give it a pass.
(sorry)
hourglass,
our glass,
one time
one night
love to pass
our glass
are surpassed
past sublime
past en masse
our brass
hour passed
union asked
loves a pass
© Goode Guy 2012-11-21
Form:
Inner party gives sanctuary:
Where lives are bought and sold en masse
And profit is viewed as the
One true gift to bestow
Upon a quiet
Unsuspecting
Populace
Valued
Cheap
AURA OF REVERENCE
particular
interpretatIons
encompass
moods
en masse
flourish
concentrated
glories
with
enlightened
entrenched
prosaic
reality
The Science teacher told his eager class
"Alas, I can’t read without my eye glass
In rest room, left my testicles"
What he meant was ‘spectacles’
The children broke into laughter en masse
You shield my soul, you are a saint
Joy to my heart you surely bring
You hold me near when I feel faint
This is far from just a bodily fling
This love we en masse can force my soul to sing.
Immigrant bodies pile up in Texas
After building a wall from ‘freedom’ glass
Green card for hard labour
Slave on dearest neighbour
Watch your companions expire en masse
17th July 2019
without question
en masse
robots
respond
without question
en masse
......
...
"i am the borg...you will be assimilated...resistance is futile...all is considered...
you will adapt...
stan sand
Running in the grass,
The kitten ran with joyful sass,
Birds flew south, en masse!
8/27/2021
2
* Rhymed Haiku
There was an old man who marched in Dublin,
danced to malachite past, wore shammocks lean.
Guinness stout in clinking glass
he drank whole night en masse.
Through the day he dreamed Celtic dreams umpteen.
I'm afraid of broken glass
Spider webs and crowds en masse
Lonely days and family fights
I'm afraid of sleepless nights
I'm afraid of guns and war
Losing friends can't take much more
Reflecting water blue eyes see
The thing that I fear most is me.
Pete's spouse accused him of having no class.
Socially, folks avoided him en masse.
He had a most dreadful flaw,
That made some people guffaw.
He could not control the passing of gas!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
The saintly row the black swan in tow, meretriciously inclined against saint's row, where dreams are dashed against a black mirror abashed, like a troglodyte who shouldn't en-masse, so whimsy see this here instead of your black mirror, eyes lent to skeletons in the closet of fears.
Heaven or Hell
Written: by Tom Wright
2/20/2013
We must all travail our lifespan,
To receive a boarding pass;
Or to the fire from fry-pan,
Where souls will go en masse;
God granted option at the cross,
To select our destination;
Accepting, he forgives our dross,
And ensures us of salvation;
For us, I want laws to pass
Not congress sitting around smoking grass
Always deliberation
Hiding in hibernation
Full force, en masse, get off your lazy ass!
* Asses are a very small breed of donkey :)
1st place in Limerick: "Choose Your Own Subject and Create your own Category" contest
by John Freeman.
A. Green
~ buds and spores bursting -
histamines assault en masse ...
sinus eruptions. ~
Written and submitted on March 28, 2019
For the "Spring Explosion Haiku" Poetry Contest
Maureen McGreavy, Judge & Sponsor.
although I sensed
its impassiveness
even back then,
i always loved
that
little village
of familiar eyes
looking
passively beyond me
you and I forced
together
in central fact
pressured en masse
into a
averse embrace
somehow in tune
perceiving
one another’s desires
but powerless
to surpass
obscurity
The last door now open,
freedom’s been found
The air burns electric
the words different sounds
To fly unabated
with heavens consent
En masse celebration,
the god’s do relent
All feeling enraptured
new joy to be shared
The journey, the struggle
—salvation ensnared
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
Each time Trump says the country’s a wreck,
they go out to the roads to inspect.
If Woody Woodpecker
had had a fact checker,
they’d be feeling his feathers to check.
On The View though, they all get a pass
when Whoopi cushions spew forth their gas.
Trump will jail your miscarriage,
end interracial marriage,
and lock up his opponents en masse.
We stand outside, in heat or cold
And one by one, each class
Is marched outside to reunite
With we who wait, en masse.
The teachers watch to match each child
With parent, sitter or
A nana or a grandpa
Huddled near the exit door.
The children run to give a hug
To those who stand and wait,
The teachers glad their obligations
They can abdicate.
a malus in fruit
bearing tiny red apples
tempting the parrots
arriving en masse
emerald green twenty eights
in feasting frenzy
The "twenty-eight parrot" (Barnardius zonarius semitorquatus) found in south-west West Australia, has a black head, a green patch on the belly.
Destroyer A Poet ~Contest Name any Haiku will do
Margaret Foster: Sept 2011
Laden in morning rises,
finding me in your irises
my creativity waits gently on the other side of this door
that creaks soft with hums that
hem your hair behind your perfect ears.
We're all children on couches
falling in our fresh and sudden thoughts
with bottomless candor,
pressing lips against young and flaming worries.
The door is swung open now
and unknown flowers are singing en masse.
I gave a lecture to an ethics class
Nearing the middle they walked out en masse
Of course, I felt like the dumbest jackass.
The students, they had not meant to harass,
Although they were quite high on laughing gas
I’d never thought ethics such a morass
In this case, though, I’d fallen on my a**.
I learned this through the candor of a lass
Giving a lecture to an ethics class.
Written October 31, 2022
September’s end descended swiftly
on the island of Manitou, as dark clouds
and strong winds vanquished yesterday’s
sun, bringing gray skies and cold rain.
In the fields, sandhill cranes gather,
then lift, en masse, silhouetted against
a sombre sky, their raucous cries harkening
to prehistoric times as they disappear across
the horizon following the east wind which
will carry them to Michigan and beyond.
We lower our heads and pedal on.