Short Greyhound Poems
Short Greyhound Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Greyhound by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Greyhound by length and keyword.
An athletic greyhound-bulldog blend
is the pride and the joy of South Bend
Fast and vivacious
Strong and tenacious
At Notre Dame he’s playing tight end
Drove his Jag through town with a fuss
He came to play poker with us
We took his treasure
And for good measure
Sent him home in a Greyhound bus
10/14/2016
I owned a racehorse that was renowned,
as only fit to be knackery bound,
bit it’s not a disgrace,
for it won its first race -
although inside the gut of a greyhound.
Frankly I have been chasing
Someone like her
Matters not to her.
She knows not.
Never once has she known
Nor did I
Now she takes the escape route downtown;
I took a Greyhound out of state.
Whippet's in the wind
When greyhound
Gazed upon
Whippersnapper
Want to be
In the midday sun
Whistle of a woman
Calling canine back
Put him on the leash
Take doggy to the track
Flat cap Freddie motions
To signal his mut
Caught him by the collar
In the car he's shut
The cosmos is extreme
As am I
As are you
Complex beyond comprehension
Bit by bit we comprehend
But impatience
Like a greyhound anxious to escape its trap
Can lead headlong
To a savage end
Mindless instinct
Spilt blood
It’s more revealing
To follow the rabbit
Down the hole
Calmly
©dbyrne may 2013
At times, comments, seem faster than a suped-up Greyhound bus.
Why write words at all, just a cold minus or a gigantic plus?
I get to know poets in comments very well.
Their beliefs, convictions..in a comment tell!
Grateful always when a poet takes the time.
You make my poet-soul, tick-tock and shine
Thank you…
Pangie
Dog
My love
First greyhound
Retired rescue
A fun, goofy boy
Lovable and loyal
Adjusting to his new home
A high prey driven sight hound breed
Our cats are his friends, squirrels are not
He is loved and completes our family
4/22/19
(Not for contest, I wrote this because today is Ziggy's 3rd Birthday, he is a great dog and my first greyhound)
Sleek and smooth greyhound
A more refined pup we have never found
You are the one we look up to for sure
Your loveliness an example of brilliance so pure.’
You are an example that makes our species proud.
You do it subtly and serenely, not in any way loud.
Sleek and smooth greyhound, this is written for you.
You are my role model, so tried, treasured and true.
I used to get a little bit misty-eyed
watching an old person hobbling along
toting an overweight gray muzzled dog.
Thinking what a tragedy it's going to be
when one of them leaves the other behind.
Now, I'm that old man hobbling along
toting an aged greyhound dog called Time.
Thinking what a tragedy it's going to be
when Time dog leaves me far, far behind.
You ain’t no greyhound
You belong in the pound
A mangy cross-breed
Too expensive to feed
You got fleas, you got ticks
(You ole son of a *****)
But I kinda’ like you
So I guess you will do…
What happened up there?
Censored! (Shall I care?)
So sorry to the Soup!
(My countenance doth droop)
Guess I got too shady
(SON-of-a-dog-lady!)
(Oh, just forget the whole da…I mean darn thing!)
Sampling efforts of various chefs
spent the morning making cakes
High spirited independant miss
Hair coiffed in red rouge circles
On blue-and-siver striped sofa
She wrote poems about Spring
In cloth covered book with a lock
Greyhound poised at her feet
He took her to a dark restaurant
She opened the box... A gold
heart nestled in black satin.
Paid Time Off,
it is time to explore.
Bus ticket in hand,
route carefully planned,
the engine begins to roar..
the greyhound slices across the terrain,
in the rain.
Slipping and sliding, I'm nervous,
as we swerve into the oncoming lane.
Hail cracks the window pane
next to me.
It is hard to relax..
I think I'll switch to Amtrak!!
Jared Pickett
03/28/2010
Asavvy1
Form:
A sentinel to guard the compound
By duty and courage bound
Monitoring activity all around
Steady, on the beat my feet doth pound
Patrolling office building and ground
Alert for any unrecognizable sound
Ready and willing all intruders to confound
Cunning as a fox, swift as a greyhound
With tenacity all code breakers do hound
Displaying efficiency that will friend and foe astound.
I’m goin’ back to cowboy ways
What difference can it make
I shaved and took a bath last month
She still left town with Jake
Bart was an oldtime gunslinger,
One that you never saw.
Lightnin’ fast on the trigger,but
Awful slow on the draw.
He was struttin’ a high priced roan..
Came for poker with us
Sent him back broke and all alone
Ridin’ a Greyhound bus
A highway full of running dogs
Greyhound bus wheels
Motor Dog of some kind
The Hound Dog genuine
Bark in the Greyhound Dog bus headlights
Through every turn
Directions to destinations
Stops here and there
Hounding ways
Days and nights
Tomorrow’s sunrise
Another journey
Sometimes sundown
A journey’s end
The Road dog keeps on wheeling
Kicking up road dust
The Road Dog to always be
Uncle Charlie
Miracle Man
6/13/2022
He was older than old Dick Tracy,
more informative than a Sear’s catalog.
The stories he told were often racy,
but his life was taken by a one eyed dog.*
*A greyhound Bus with one headlight,
that came streaking across the land.
It mangled his body, what a gruesome sight,
he died with his cane pole in his hand.
Not really. LOL
Uncoloured like ether; armed with snakes
Steps as lithe as a greyhound; a body
put together like a puzzle
With rings and dark eyes and small voices
Your words stumped and acerbic, I bet
you fall into chairs and lovers
When you sit opposite me on a bus
You chase away my starved eyes; old hope
for a love dusty over a fireplace.
On the way to my school in my innocent childhood,
I ran after the migratory butterfly in a crazy mood.
They responded fast and flew high above to leave me alone on the ground,
Where I was developing magical skills to jump to a deciding height like a greyhound.
I tried and failed and the butterfly slipped to more heights and moved around,
Those few attempts taught me to learn how to play in a real playground.
That Greyhound Station
This woman
I am interviewing,
one of her front teeth
crosses over the other
and sticks out like a leg
crossed over the other.
Otherwise I would hire her;
I am certain of that.
But she reminds me too much
of that Greyhound station
at three in the morning.
There, alone on a bench,
across from me still,
her little dress up,
skulls of bare knees,
hillbilly child waiting.
Donal Mahoney
On the rim of the glass, there is salt all around.
This makes the drink different from a “greyhound”.
Take either gin or vodka mixed with grapefruit juice.
These ingredients can be put to good use.
It was named for any sailor experienced with the sea.
The drink maintains great popularity.
Has anybody replaced the gin or vodka with tequila?
In that way, we could call this drink a “grapefruit margarita”.
April 6th Back of the Bus
Many years ago
When I was a foolish young man
I took a greyhound bus trip
Just to see the country
I was trapped
In the back of the bus
Where the young
And restless souls
Gathered together
And drank illegally
And smoked weed
Also illegally
We stayed there
Until Winnemuca
Where I got off
And found my bus pass
Had found another owner
And I went to Salt Lake City
Still trapped in the back of the bus
Listen to poem:
The Escape Artist
David J Walker
He was
Well dressed
In a Goodwill sort of way
Pinstripes down his
Breast
Cuffed at the end of
Each long leg
Shoes buffed
Into mirrored shine
Checking his Canal Street Rolex
For the incorrect time
This is how his
Day goes
Blowing Orbicular grey smoke
forced through his churlish nose
Awaiting the arrival of
The next Greyhound bus
That necessarily must
take him
Anywhere else
Place to eat
I can’t say Evanston Diner can’t be beat
Location being the town of Evanston, Wyoming
Bound for Los Angeles, California
A stop on Greyhound Bus
You know the slogan, “Leave the Driving to us”
Limited food
There was no need to drool
Hamburger last
Had to be ordered fast
That was all that was available
Greyhound buses that passed through had cleaned out the Evanston Diner of food
Later the Greyhound bus pressed on
Back on the road again
My father’s arm wrapped around my shoulder
I am safe happy and secure
A fast car like a greyhound chasing the hare
Faster we go we are free to go anywhere
Living in the shelter
My father drinks all-day
My stolen youth working in a store
When we escape in the fast car that life will be no more
My mother left leaving me alone
My father blots out the pain with whiskey and rye
I wonder what life would have been
If my mother had stayed and never said goodbye