Short Goddamned Poems
Short Goddamned Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Goddamned by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Goddamned by length and keyword.
Ojise was from someplace somewhere
A name so uncommon and rare
Hard to say or recall
Close to some goddamned fall,
Dammit! Why do I even care?
Limerick contest by Jan Allison
My heart tells me one thing
My mind quite another thing
My body craves yet it craves
It craves all it can get from her
Should it be that I nurse my hurt
While foregoing a future apparent
Soul ties soul wounds fresh n salted
Where does one go so wrong yet mine
It still feels so right in an intricate way
Yet it is so goddamned fated to yet hurt
Do not Baa Baa,
you goddamned black sheep,
becuase you hardly look like a sheep,
I need not ask if you do have wool,
because they have scraped it all you fool,
Need not even wonder,
because you ugly brownish goat like sheep,
you have no master or dame,
or even a little boy across the lane,
they are all wailing,
looking at your reduced frame that is lame.
I smell regret!
I smell it on your clothes
and in your hair,
on your hands
and in every stitch,
every fiber,
every twist and turn in the path of your goddamned
chugga-chugga-choo-choo'ing
train of thought,
and it is especially noticeable in the carpet,
but then again,
that could just be the milk I spilled
when I caught a big fat whiff of the aforementioned regret...
What I had luckily caught
One exorbitantly bought,
Long after I had it brought:
A salmon by a crowd sought
And for it bitterly fought...
Many bidders voicing their thought
Nearly making it a sport,
Save the one who had been taught
To huge sums pay on a spot
So as to remain on top,
As things become goddamned hot
To Plain Delay not a lot
And fast leave before he’s shot
uncruel & unusual
and on that day
every supporter of the
death penalty (60% or
so of american idiots)
was ushered into an
execution taking place
with hands tied
behind their backs &
eyes propped open with
safety pins or whatever it
took to keep their
goddamned eyes open
long enough to watch
the slow killing of those
they condemned
to die, with all the
self-righteous certainty of
a sunday morning.
con't
The damn memories
are still so clear.
And now I am alone,
the only one left
because my brother
sliced his neck
in what has become
a family tradition,
that is, to leave
of your own volition.
If I could only get
the reruns to quit
maybe my goddamned
head wouldn't split
and I wouldn't feel so
fragmented
broken into a million
disassociated pieces
in a fugue
until it ceases.
Every goddamned cake
You bake
I shall speedily take…
Not simply for its sake:
The fragile dreams it does awake!
A shimmering bluish water lake,
Where my unsafe love guesses I make;
Off tearing layers of my personal hatred, every flake
While watched from some metres by Eden’s Snake
I should be able to split into two with divine rake
Resides, on my judgmental tongue
Your cake had never been fake!
Every goddamned cake
You bake
I shall speedily take…
Not simply for its sake:
The fragile dreams it does awake!
A shimmering bluish water lake,
Where my unsafe love guesses I make;
Off tearing layers of my personal hatred, every flake
While watched from some metres by Eden’s Snake
I should be able to split into two with divine rake
Resides, on my judgmental tongue
Your cake had never been fake!
From the Genesis gambit of the creation of life
Is found succinct in the ambit of the Gospel of Christ
The goddamned quondam sinners
Are made whole by the perfectly lived life He delivers
He suffered all things categorically (for you and me)
By the torturous hell of hanging on The Tree
He did ascend (He did rent and mend) He has risen
Gathering all His people (of all times) by the Life He has given
Her first name is Precious:
A saleswoman not anxious
To flee from shop not spacious
For another with items more luscious!
That’s, perhaps, why she is Precious:
Twenty years but ever gracious,
Even when praises had got fictitious
And flashed smiles goddamned facetious...
A youth but hasn’t been vicious
Over her feeding, poorly nutritious
Some influence names have on their bearer
Simply find one and try getting nearer.
Little yellow bottle,
Yield to me your fumes,
Speak of my triumphs,
My failures,
My joy,
My sorrow.
Speak of the man
I once hoped to woo;
Speak of sleepless nights
Spent buried under a million quilts,
My face shoved into
A pillow spritzed
With the soft scent of your perfume.
Speak of me,
Of my wrists and my chest,
Of my hair and my thighs.
Speak of every goddamned thing
I did to hide myself
When vanilla just made me
Into a scented whore.
Her room’s door has a goddamned latch,
Wherefore people don’t her sight catch
Seldom would open to a knock,
On that her heart ‘real igneous rock…
Of those she’d turned down I, First Batch
While I had good shirt, not a patch
My role to speak, hers to speech block;
Her choicest move: a glance at clock;
One starts with her, one won’t sleep snatch
Like one watching a World Cup Match…
But know I when her age doubles
Pride with cursed vanity wobbles.
He’s seen himself
twice
in four days.
Moving mineral from mythic,
I present to you one invisible goddamned man.
A wheel-spinning spirit, efforts of the dervish are occasionally futile. Over the maelstrom’s edge, he gets but occasional peeks.
They call it ideation, and it’s enough to take your wallet and keys.
Once released, the dance with the Taurus resumes.
“Look at yourself. Look at yourself in the mirror!” the juggernaut fumes.
He’s seen himself
twice
in four days