Short Grinder Poems
Short Grinder Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Grinder by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Grinder by length and keyword.
Like puppeteers
organ grinders will always exist;
there can never be a last;
there’s an endless supply of monkeys,
and sheep.
the snow is coming
these chains are a pain indeed
he breaks out grinder
sparks fly all over
waiting for garage to blow
good grief man it's snow
pass me a grinder
the bigger the better
everything tastes finer
with a generous scatter
of the finest black pepper
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Her late husband was a fault-finder
And she wished that he had been kinder
But not her fault
She spilled the salt
When he caught his meat in the grinder!
The White House is our nation's grinder
With Donald Trump our main fault finder
To prove he's a man
He fires those he can
And then claims he could not be kinder
The last organ grinder (I’ve been told)
hailed from Boston and died very old.
When his barrel organ
got played by his son,
in his grave the dead Fred must have rolled.
A female butcher who knew few borders
By accident caused several disorders
When not looking behind her
She backed into her grinder
And got a little behind in her orders!
God 's angels
come in singing some
wonderful chorus for him.
Adorable instrumental musics
strengthen in the journey to become
one of the commander - in - chief powers.
organ
organ grinder
get out of here orange, you do not fit!
Oregon
ornate
ornery
stop it orangutan or I’ll give you something to cry about
ordinary
orthodox
or what?
Put up your dukes
Night train screaming down
The hill, grinder for
Metal rails in Earth’s dust.
Painful reminder of war
Carrying troops to battle.
Her screams echo those of
the dying soldiers.
roasted coffee beans
inside grandma's old grinder
exude aroma
of groovy early mornings
catching the first bus to school
19 February 2022
A Briand Strand Tanka" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
1st place
The Deal Killer,
The Heart Stomper,
The Grain Grinder,
The Mind Stealer,
The Spine Feeler,
The Mind Peeler,
The Spine Dealer,
The Chain Binder,
The Strained Reminder,
The Shamed Re-teller...
And now that all have spoken...
The deal is broken.
If each peppercorn was a life,
each is saddled in surrender
of shunless damnation.
They dwell in anguish--
death row prisoners.
They huddle together
awaiting torsion
as the grinder rends
the season from their body.
All that remains is dust
milled over an entrée.
This is America.
We kill everybody equally.
So do the Neo Soviets.
So do the English.
So do the Chinese.
So do the Muslim extremists.
So do the...
On and no it goes.
A meat grinder of death.
More fresh kills are needed.
Feed the death machine.
It's ravenously hungry...
You're profession is my depression,
A constant reminder of an emotional grinder,
A year of sleep is all I need,
Inducing coma of you're planted seeds,
The weeds can grow,not that I'll know,
Water my pain I'm feeding slow,
I'm moving now towards the sun,
Never to return you weren't the one.
The last organ grinder played a blinder
Intending to leave folk a reminder
To music upbeat
All those in the street
Did a conga to “Eye of the Tiger.”
It was the close of a splendid career
The organ grinder shed many a tear
As the music died
He swelled up with pride
For the crowd gave him uproarious cheer.
Donning a vintage coat, boots, hat and all,
the last organ grinder readies his smile,
outside the old age home, heeding love’s call,
to rekindle heart’s joy, for a short while,
triggering memory elders recall,
recounted to young ones, in life’s last mile.
His next stop is for the autistic child,
where he’ll sing songs by God’s angels compiled.
Zoom Zoom went the organ grinder
As the panda bear bore delight
in its urbane mind set
Burning marigolds over wrought
only tell half the story as was
Jupiter jumping
Nostrums for the retraining
A thousand dandelions heads
If they could only scatter mile high
Joking leprechauns come out laughing
in black dustbin liners
by the dug notre jardin
Our class of three suites me
we get along just fine
we play and romp and run around
under the smiling sun
we fall we're scraped we're cut too
I always have to tie my shoe
but no matter where or what the game
no one will ever name names
we compute in math like gears in a grinder
we experiment in science and work together
the boys and I get along just fine
we'll always be together same class same time
At last she found the salt pot
About an hour it took her
It was tucked behind the pepper
In the cupboard by the cooker
So keep it in a sprinkler
Or even in a grinder
But if it’s near the coffee
Please heed this reminder
In case it might be found
By the unobservant looker
Please don’t keep it in a pot
That bares the label ’Sugar’
5 March 2021
Contest: Salt
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
The Organ Grinder is Grinding
The monkey isn't there
He ate to many bananas
Now he's in Hospital care
The Grinder keeps on turning
He's grinding that old crank
He's looking for donations
To put into his Bank
He's under lots of pressure
To pay the hospital bills
The monkey bit the doctor
He didn't want any pills
Life is such a grind
With a Monkey on his back
The doctor sued for all he's worth
Now he's living in a shack
Why is it so much harder
to lose than to gain?
Why does what we don’t possess
plague us so much, while all we have
is so abundant?
Is it a kind of Darwinian determinism?
Determined to hunger for what we imagine?
Gratification devolves into disappointment
in an instant.
Like food fed into a grinder,
Pulp recycled into new hungers.
If I could lose my hunger,
Maybe I could lose my loss?
©dbyrne jan 2014
In poverty's desperation
She finds the old organ
Where it's stored under the stair.
It belongs to the man who is gone
Leaving her and his children alone,
This cold winter turned into despair.
Frozen air surrounds her,
As she grinds out the tunes
Almost alone on the street.
The warmth of windows watch her,
Their families safely ensconced
As she trudges home.
She knows
Her children will eat only turnips
again.
One percent milk chided the butter about its worth,
And the eggs got all cracked up at the stock boys’ jokes.
Nutty candy bars laughed joyfully at all the mirth,
But all shunned the outcast; a pack of generic smokes.
Ground Chuck had just been through the grinder
Yet he was glad when he encountered fresh, hot buns.
Over in health and beauty, condoms became a reminder,
Trash magazines spreads all; Hot and cross rolls share puns!
we once rode together
sipping sherry sweet angel skin
fabled silken locks staving off
dream’s killing wind
no idea of our value
as we lay treachery’s faint skidmark
on the ice fronting
dreamboat market
gyrating dark stars
stunned stone sapphires strewn across howling
midnight meadows
petulant organ grinder was I
churning melodies sublime
all the while counting orgasms like shooting stars
knowing we donned
tresures from afar