Short Hags Poems

Spineless swine 
That line the street
but should be six feet deep 
Dirty old hags cover in rags 
These people are simply freaks...

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Wicked hexing creatures
Wagging their evil tongues
while casting ancient spells
Wart faced old hags. Women
who recite sorcery,  
with newt eyes in cauldrons
Wretches grouped in covens...

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Witches are wizened hags
With long nose and loose hair
Wart nosed ugly spirits
Wicked ramblers of night
Who ride on bristly brooms
Wielders of black magic
Weird sisters in Macbeth...

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Were we naive or were we smart?
Were we overprotective or just safe?
Were we in love or horny?
 
These questions are asked by the “grown ups”,
 the “hags”, 
the “just-out-to-ruin-your-lives”, 
the people who cared the most for us. 

The people who don’t want us making the same mistakes they did....

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Listen to poem:

Mr. Thomas Jeffrey Hanks,
Was known to pull off desk pranks,
I told him, "Three bags."
He said, "From those hags."
One heard, said, "No tip, so thanks!"



***Under his breath, he tells me, "Oh yeah! I gave them their tip, alright!"

Date: 08/25/2019
www.howmanysyllables.com
77557...

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~Halloween  Night~
(Pleiades)


Halloween Day is back
Hauntings in many places
Hags, vampires prowl the land
Hairy creatures come out
Haunted houses give thrills
Hearts beat fast out of fear
Halloween night is fun.


Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2015



October.19.2015...

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Hoarder holds her hostage, heaps heavy history hysterics.
Her husband, horrific. Harried hugs humiliate. Hops, hits
hags — harmed honeymoon. Hiss harkened hellbound Harris.
Hysterical Helena hinted hate, harbinger hackles heightened, hot.
How? Hagfish homicide? Herbs? Homer helps Helena hack! 

12/18/2020
Alliteration Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper...

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hurdled hoisted hazzle
hideous hags sparkle
rustic lips lurching
pulpy punctured pitching
damped danced drooping
mystic mists mumbling

curvy chants crunching
cautious cauldron moaning
voluptuous vibe reeling

purpled eyes heaven
dripping ecliptic epilepsy
sumptuous scrunches spanking

callous cusses cupped
spooky hags spun.
    19:11:19:14:22...

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Wizard sat quietly without a word
Listening to the huddle of a witch named Bird
She had big plans that included him.
He’s a sneaky wizard, she said, old T. Jim.

Old T was enjoying the view, and the spying.
He could hear all of their plots, only half trying.
Glad he had transmogrified himself, he hopped away.
Planning his own surprise for the witch hags that day....

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Afraid of Moslems
because they protest
while 2000ibs bombs killing babies
signed by American politicians
angry they say?
ya would you not be?
your family slaughtered?
how many millions has USA killed? at
weddings
funerals
concerts
civilians just trying to survive
Trump and his old hag supporters
should be rotting in a prison
USA is no more a country
its a disease
until eradicated no one is free

Where is Dr Fauci when we need him?
...

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Woman is a hole,
Soft with spongey walls,
Press the button, make her howl,
Crash through her virgin halls. 

A newborn baby, little girl,
Fresh kitchen rag to store,
Waiting ignorant of the day,
When she too will be soiled.

Decades later, kitchen rags,
Sit discarded in a bin,
A loony bin for hags to talk, 
And squeeze out salty drips. 

Streaming semen pulling tears,
Out of ragged women,
In a circle all but holes,
Men uninvited saunter in.
...

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Haggard honey-loving homies held Hank’s hamhocks hostage 
He hitched his hayrack, having habitual hints hint his huffiness.
Harry harbored horrifically hideous habits, hissing his heebe-jeebies.
Hangdog Hilda hesitated, having heard Hale hinting Harry’s holiness.
Huffy hummingbird Helen  hindered Happenstance Hilda’s hayseed habits. 
Himalayan Herbert, hayseed harboring hazardous hags, hid Hilda and Helen.
Hallowed horses having hatpins hissed, having had hobo handy hangers help....

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The path between myself and the distant man 
twists and turns. There are gullies and ridges
hags and troughs, a hoary dusk.

We are converging. He has my hat and clothes, 
my resemblance.

Once I miscalculated;
I was out on the trackless moors too late, 
darkness fell
I had to lose myself to find myself.

The figure is waving, not in greeting but warning.
As we draw nearer the sky darkens,
suddenly he is gone.

Later I look from a dark window and wonder 
which of us came home?...

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