Short Hangout Poems
Short Hangout Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Hangout by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Hangout by length and keyword.
I am teaching the dogs about their new hangout
Where they can poop and pee and frolic about
They love it so much as long as I am it here too
But when I leave, my dogs jump up; they are through.
nineteen-eighty-three
reporting onboard
USS Nimitz
she was in dry dock
Lee’s Restaurant
in Newport News
was my hangout
in shipyard days
playing pool
making friends
Budweiser
fine food
large tab
nice
Sitting at home all alone again
17 and still no friends
go hangout just me and myself
all alone, no one else
just can’t fit in
no matter how hard I try
the world has left me to be by myself
solely a lonely guy
It was just a hangout..
struggling to be brave;
Denying every doubt
overcome with nausea.
What’s your sharp gaze about?
I cannot look away…
now fear’s starting to sprout.
A claustrophobic cave,
I may never get out…
Premature stars planning to shine
from their burial grounds; They thought...
Social Media is the guarantor,
but actually quelling the quality of life over 'LIKES'!
The noose (an employee)
willing to hangout with them until the end.
Once in my life
I had it all
Wealth and power
I stand really tall.
I have friends
Wild and free
Used to hangout
Under the tree.
Then one day
I lose it all
No one was left
When I did fall...
Felt so hard
Everyone is gone
But we were there
When we had much fun.
Damn, that face looks oddly familiar though a bit
Enigmatic too, somehow I cannot seem to nail it
Just where I met her, maybe in school or in some
Arty hangout, or perhaps way back during a prom.
Vaguely recognizable yet, mysteriously intriguing,
Unless she is an outgrowth of my wild imagining.
In that moonlit night,
A nude picture hangout bares
My bemoaning eyes,
Showing raindrops.
Soul searching eyes,
Picking flowers and drinking wines
Haunt me in the valleys of dreams,
Images that last forever.
Ripples of beer in thin air,
I squandered my time.
Ever the same,
In that blue horizon
I'll search and wait.
The bench at the bus stop
was nothing special,
some metal and planks
that ceased to exist
A hangout for drunks,
a refuge for pigeons,
I don’t think by many
it has been missed
The bench at the bus stop
was nothing special,
that is till the moment
when we first kissed
Though it was dismantled
for obvious reasons,
among my best memories
to live, it is pleased.
laughter rushes summer cleanses
subverts subsistence
children ramble seaside scramble
scribble sand
hamlet beckons hangout persuades
hermits wade
worship freedom
wooing
emissaries
dripping
leisure
wedges in
Poem composed July 8, 2021
fabulous fabricated forlorn frenzied Franciscan fable
garnered garrulous geese gathered at Gloria’s gable
harboring a hangout for a hunter with Achille’s heel
identifying idiosyncrasies that are less than ideal
juggling jam-packed jokesters without a good joke
Keeping an eye out for kibitzers and kindly kinfolk
like-minded Lilliputian with a lullaby I like
manifesting mystical magic, then throwing down the mike
(A string of haiku)
Yellow army staff
their music for pain is drone
strings if one provokes
bullet proof jacket
hard black helmet covered head
hangout colony
Note:- Yellow Jacket is a wasp.
SANCTIFIED
I am available, a friend, sensitive, an answer
I love the real, the honest, and Y O U
I have an idea for romance, a poem, a talk
I feel claustrophobic, hot and cold
Afraid of a llamaless world, the ceiling and floor
I would like to cruise, hangout, congregate
Resident of the rain, the Southern sun and forest
SOUL
4/14/2020
Dear Heart’s Bio Modified Poetry Contest
How many friends do I need?
How can I tell?
People who cover me when I bleed
They're people who pick me up after I fell
I can share all my thoughts
We can hangout
They untangle all my knots
They know what I'm all about
They're understanding
There accepting is expanding
They're outstanding
And not commanding...
A friend is thoughtful
A friend is delightful
Even through all our ties
And all our cries
Our friendship never dies
That is what a true friend is...