Short Ernest Poems
Short Ernest Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Ernest by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Ernest by length and keyword.
Thomas Ernest Hulmeaka 'T E'
sent down from Cambridge was he
After some trouble&strife
settled into an 'Imagiste' life
Ernest was a taxidermist.
Who stuffed birds and animals the firmest.
Ernie had made a name,
In the taxidermist game,
He was also a professional internist.
Oscar Fingal O'Fflahertie Wills Wilde
wrote a novel gothic styled
A 'Picture of Dorian Gray'
and a very popular Victorian play*
*Importance of Being Ernest
Alone,
in peripheral solitude, without glory
nor fame to flaunt---Ernest the whisperer, serenading
the sweetness of the gentle wind.
The scent of a naked lady
engulfed him, with a pinkish smile
and he wishes…
for your ultimate return.
Once for whom the bell tolls did exist
the playwright and the war journalist.
Wilde had an ego that’s true
but Hemingway always knew
the importance of being Ernest!
Written: May 2015
There was a forlorn poet named Ernest
entered prized Christmas poetry contest
won necklace for the first place
took it in case, ran a race
to win the lady’s heart in lone earnest.
(Syllable count : 10,10,7,7,10
checked on howmanysyllables.com)
Great literary treat
From Ernest Hemmingroid
No Pillsbury man, be he....
No push-over poet....
No eat-your -cake too fake.....
He rises to the occasion,
Sun or Rain,
Yeah, sometimes...
He's a pain in the ass
But, rest assured,
It's not just gas...
The Love Spell
She blew a kiss
A perfect kiss.
My muse
She gave me a perfect bliss
Her magic spell
Entered my brain
Like a bullet with
A magic kiss
She blew a kiss
A perfect kiss
My muse!
She gave me a perfect bliss
By Ernest Badounts
Beyond this race of aches and pain
Looms large the struggle to make the grade,
And yet the mental and physical strain
Finds me now and forever unafraid
It matters not the starting gate,
The grueling race will take its toll,
But I’m a marathoner great
I’ll master all to reach my goal
Fallen home...
star way
working my
*I wrote this a few years ago, after reading the great Ernest Hemingway's famous 6 word
bio...these 6 little words have much inner/hidden meaning for me. :)
Candid Beauty
Candid beauty made of gold
True, your beauty never gets
old,
Many stories have been told
By so many,you've been loved,
True,your eyes elate my wish;
Oh....Your kissed, lavish
Levitate me to my dreams;
Nothing really what it seems
Only you is my dream-wish
By Ernest Badounts
In my deep thought,I yielded
To the midnight peace.
It shook me with embrace,
Wrapped around me,
Like a gentle woman
That blinded me with kindness;
I my thoughts matured on
earth's surface
Venturing into the depths.
I closed my eyes and listened
To the midnight peace...
-Ernest Badounts
Ironic Twist
Ironic twist
Reflected in the tryst
Woman of bliss
Gazed with a secret kiss
Silent mysteries uncovered
With each minute discovered
Our heartbeats traveled
Like volcanic fire
The universe gladly admired
Her!
She awakened silently
My search for divinity
-Ernest Badounts-
Hurricane,
Insane—
Bettie Page,
Road rage—
Osama,
Oboma—
JFK,
Blown away—
Thin ties,
Tie dyes—
Ernest Tubb,
Beelzebub!
WMD,
Wannbe—
John McCain
Still a pain—
911,
Twenty-four seven—
JonBennet,
Turned away—
Poetry,
Geometry—
James Dean,
Was a queen—
Hurricane,
Insane—
Bettie Page,
Still the rage.
Ernest Hemingway;
Him had his way,
Earnest Hemingway.
Not much a poet I would say,
I like him anyway...
Had so many things to say.
Though married many wives,
Couldn’t keep em,
For with other women he was sleeping!
I know for in his Bio…
I’ve been peeping,
And into his writing style…
I’m slowly creeping!
(Poetry Form: Divine - not included in list of selections)
The clock stood still in shock, refused to chime;
an old alarm designed to warn,
as sneak thief scrambled through
the window frame.
He thought he'd planned a perfect flawless crime;
they caught him in the early morn
when armored men in blue,
the coppers, came.
I dreamed I saw the grave of Ernest Dowson
Bleakly set
In some forgotten churchyard corner,
Lone and wet.
The spectral London fog descended cold on
Sentry grass
Where seldom any visitors or pilgrims
Deign to pass.
And in my reverie I bravely scattered
Roses there,
And felt a frail and wispy “Thank you”
Warm the air.
Bitter bitty Betty bullied brute Billy
Choosing caustic comments, some so silly
Disgusted, divorced Danny deemed her a dilly.
Eventually evading Ernest, Eddie, Elyse and Elly
Forever forcing Freddie into fashion frenzy frilly.
Gathering grave grievances, grazing grief counselor, Gilly.
Harvesting heavy handed horrors, hampering Billy.
Aroma Of Your Fire
Aroma of your youthful Fire
Defines the essence
Of your Eyes.
With time you blossom
like a flower
In arrayed fields
of endless sighs.
Your eyes are dreamlike
that take me higher
with serenading symphony
Spread kisses of llife's melody,
Amongs the faceless, algit, crowd,
Your beauty rises each hour...
By Ernest Badounts
Writer William Ernest Henley
a little known poet was he
'Invictus' * his claim to fame
inspiration** the name of the game(s)
A stoic due to illness & hospitalisation his poem *(s) & (life)became an inspirational name for the 'games' ,Mandela,RL Stevenson& Butterworth the composer..William's (born 1849 died 1903)Invictus' verse ,four abab quatrains, was written in 1875.
The Mist
Cascais was enveloped in a silky, grey fog last night
that reminded me of Marilyn Dietrich silk- stockings
she wore in an ad many years ago.
Ernest Hemingway and her were a great love story
not consumed.
Above the stockings, a nearly full moon shone, it
gave hope for the future, the lockdown will soon end
it will be ok, but not as before taking life for granted.
For we have thought the longer thoughts
And trod the road to stray.
And we have sung the songs of hill,
Then uttered words of fray;
But to Him we owe these lives we owed
Now it's time to lay
A glowing candle in shadowed path
And humbled our knees to pray.
"For we have thought the longer thoughts "
the first line of the poem "Chapter Heading"
by Ernest Hemingway
I sip and ponder Ernest-ly
Across the table from me
I reach out and
touch Emily's hand
My friends
I truly understand
Time and space
The table
But dears
I see each face
You're present right
before me now
As words written
can allow
I hear your tears
Across the years
I cry with you
your words ring true
I reach out across the table
only as I'm able
I am the master of my fate - William Ernest Henley
Bill zags, don't tell him to zig.
The architect of his fate;
truly an iconoclast,
a nonconformist
Famous Poetic Lines 2 Poetry Contest (Winner: 3rd Place)
Sponsored by Silent One
Date written: 02/08/2020
White Rose
Oh gentle white rose! Rise
gently...
Express the colors of your
gifted soul,
Unexpectedly rise with the
chants of affection.
You are the heartbeat of the
world's perfection.
Oh gentle White Rose! Rise
from the ashes,
Stand strong in the madness.
Show, your true beauty in all
the ugliness
Unwind perfection with your
wisdom..
Give fire to the darkness!
Give smile to the mankind!
-Ernest Badounts-
.