Short Foulest Poems
Short Foulest Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Foulest by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Foulest by length and keyword.
Love
always
finds a way;
In the deepest,
darkest, human heart
there dwells a tiny seed -
once touched, will burst forth
and overwhelm
the foulest,
blackest
hate.
Form:
It describes that moment when someone is so
stressed out and angry that starts blurting out throw
abusive language,
foulest profane language
to gain emotional relief, relieve stress, woe.
~X~X~X~
The beastly beast of Fectorath
The foulest thing you’ve met
It’s ugly as a bulls back end
And have you smelled it yet
The stench is just, quite awful
It smells like something’s dead
And little do you realise
It’s hiding in your bed!
Honourable Mention in
"Anything Goes Again"
Listen to poem:
Treasures Midden
David J Walker
It is in the midden
The story hidden
In the heap
The truth entwined
With dung and grime
To keep
As secrets from the
Eyes less bold
Where orates swear
To the foulest air from
Truth in scripted told
The dung heap
Is where the
Cleric keeps
His gold
In the marketplace,
from a woman vegetable vendor
a bazar cow snatched away
a big mustard plant.
She shouted at the cow
rebuking it with the foulest words
she could muster
while the cow relishing it's loot.
An old Street dog,
loving life ,
rested in a shaded corner
looked at the youthful cow
with envy.
I dread Monday —
Unlike any other day.
Tumbling upon it — with eyes groggy,
And limbs bound tight with festive strings,
Accompanied by the foulest halitosis from a wayward breath,
With all the liquor and litter,
From the dizzying heights of the debauched weekend —
Reminds me of the journey from
Banterland to Queryland.
The Simpleton twins were quite a pair
They'd leave their calling cards everywhere
On beans they loved to munch
For breakfast, lunch, or brunch
The foulest pair that ever broke air
For laughs they thought that it'd be fun
To light one in front of everyone
When his twin struck a match
He bent over to scratch
And died from internal combustion
In mangled bodies
and severed limbs,
the blood gives up its claim.
A twisted window blocks the landscape
of silvered faces.
No body talks with moon.
Night burns the fat
floats on the dead mouthings.
Death has the foulest taste.
Darkness looms overnight,
very false under the lamp,
eyelids are closing.
Dirty maps unfold the mystery
of religion. The longest book
has the restless words.
SATISH VERMA
fork has many interpretations
connotations
as do
eviscerate
slaughter
butchery
all can mean less than they
appear to be
context is important
but War
War is the foulest of foul words
a word that only the dead hear correctly
the living
choose from a lexicon of oaths
they may banter
or throw stones
but War
War kills every word
in the dictionary
even to the last
blood-soaked letter
In mangled bodies
and severed limbs,
the blood gives up its claim.
A twisted window blocks the landscape
of silvered faces.
No body talks with moon.
Night burns the fat
floats on the dead mouthings.
Death has the foulest taste.
Darkness looms overnight,
very false under the lamp,
eyelids are closing.
Dirty maps unfold the mystery
of religion. The longest book
has the restless words.
SATISH VERMA
Form:
Don't anyone on this flatter
Nor leave the matter to Martha.
To her it might mean 'No matter'
While it's one that could things batter.
Long-built relationships scatter,
When challenged lips simply mutter
Once clean lives in foulest gutter,
Quiet room source of loud clatter.
Each time, I awake this matter,
Fears of waiting ruin get fatter:
I glimpse feet and hear their patter.
As they inch closer, blood-spatter
A look i took at her flesh
Waiting to see something fresh
But fancied not the tissues
With which she had has issues...
In her mind lots had clustered,
For she had seemed quite flustered:
Might I roles play of Duster;
And I the courage muster?
Then, I sensed some brothel behind
Where she would paradise find...
But in reality life grind
And foulest Demons unbind
"So it's all about a mind
Its owner made sure went blind!"
Dirty scowling crone
Old as the wind
Tear-stained cheeks
Sadness of knowing
Shuffling quietly
Through twisted shadows
She is darker than night
Darker than you
Stony chill of her breath
Whistling across
Withered yellow lips
The foulest of crypts
Hating eyes
Hating you
Earthen pits of decay
Windows to oblivion
Embracing you…
Twitching, dying bats
Scurrying, gnawing rats
Screaming, slicing cats
Don’t look
Don’t watch
Don’t see
Don’t know
Ever