Short Harlot Poems
Short Harlot Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Harlot by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Harlot by length and keyword.
What a world!
Hustler, are you pleased?
I wonder.
In your heart,
Harlot, are you satisfied?
Hermit starves in fear.
There was a girl by name of Charlotte
Whom some thought of as a harlot
But she was petite
And so very sweet
She never got the Letter of Scarlet
There once was this girl who was pretty
Who resided in New York City
Got mugged Friday night
Weak attempt at a fight
Life as a harlot is such a pity
When she saw the economy brought
naught but poverty; said Ms Charlotte,
"Let us revitalize;
I can still improvise
a harlot for each empty car lot."
I knew a girl called Psychic Charlotte
her bogus readings less than starlet
her sly ruse exposed
new profession chose
is now known as Charlotte the Harlot
HARLOT
Tall grass and rustling trees muffled the noise,
shouts of “Harlot” followed them
pain's gunshot echoing.
John G. Lawless
2/16/2015
There once was a girl from Charlotte
Rumors spread that she is a harlot
She was loose in her ways
And perhaps her suitors did pay
Would it be better if free tomorrow Scarlet
when eyes are poems
they speak with a gaze not words~
mirror out feelings.
when eyes are harlot
they stink like a park keeper~
mirror their hatred.
harlot potter
pots of sand
worlds
in
the
oceans
palms
in my
hands
what love have i
to offer
pots
of
sand
in
the
hands
planting or sculpting
harlot potter
?
A man with cash shopped at a used car lot
Where met a cute, winsome young harlot
Smiling, he took it in stride
When she offered him a ride
He loved the trip ‘til he missed his wallet.
Belle of night
tossing laced chemise,
carnal acts
thrills now paid ,
In exchange for decent food
clinging to lone choice
Nette Onclaud
Spin A Shadorma
June 3 , 2025
Hate Level Started To Rise
It has been happening before my eyes;
Level here of hate again started to rise;
Liked Charlotte;
Very vile harlot;
Bad behavior Trump did try to disguise.
Jim Horn
THE LADY WHO BATHES IN PUBLIC
Harlot Moon
Languishes in Star-bath
Shamelessly
Victoria Anderson-Throop
12/27/12
Juja, Kenya
Harbinger of Summer’s jamboree
walked in a scarlet hued harlot;
Waves pranced inside azure eyes
building mile high castles
with sandy affairs;
Shoreside bonfires
moonlit sea,
beach life’s
hot.
If our name was Scarlet, could your hair be dyed teal?
What if your name was Harlot, how would that feel?
Otis, Homer and Wilbur have no real zest or zeal.
Elzora, Eulaliah and Adeline, wouldn’t that be a deal
THE LADY WHO BATHES IN PUBLIC
Harlot moon
Languishes in star bath
Shamelessly
Victoria Anderson-Throop
the moon last night made me want to repeat this favorite of mine!
I’ve lived up
till now
with my thumb
in life’s eye
In reckless
abandon
I shucked
and I jived
No virgin
was safe
no harlot
denied
The wages
of sin
my fortune
— allied
(Dreamsleep: October, 2024)
Today,
7-5-2016
Lady Justice removed her mask,
And with her finger, the scales were tipped.
She no longer remains apolitical,
But has become a harlot,
Willing to pitch herself to the highest bidder;
Tom
Sable
Gable
Betray’l
Fatal
Eyes that pierced, not sable, Gable-gray.
Won’t give a d$mn - betray’l fatal bray.
Absolving his harlot Scarlet wife.
Dismissive of starlit starlet strife.
Harlot
Scarlet
starlit
starlet
Like a 70-year-old bow-legged harlot, jealousy never ages well.
Every year the mascara is painted on thicker.
Every year, less of that peacock strut
Every year, more pigeon steps.
No more virgin revelations.
Only clownish mumblings from the pen...
A discarded dried-up turd to the bitter end.
While all night queens carve figurines in gelatine and jade,
Behind a door and on the floor a deal is finally made;
A painted girl with flaxen curl has plied again her trade
And now the care within her stare has turned a darker shade.
Her lack of guile and parting smile are cutting like a blade.
The harlot maples crimson tipped nails
tap, drum, strum, and plunk;
at Aprils blasted blue sky.
Raking a wind born trail
across skeletal palms
and forearmed branches,
in a come-hither dance;
reawakening the cerulean stratus
above the dense sugar maple forest.
Sap taps a tune into tin buckets;
and, so, Spring is sprung.
Seconds hunger
days unweaned
compression fracture
broken dreams
Minutes uncounted
hours unnamed
Humptiest Dumpty
in pieces again
Yahweh once spoken
reason besieged
tokens in exile
pagans to grieve
One for the money
two when it’s shown
oracle harlot
—cursed and dethroned
(Dreamsleep: March, 2022)
... it's much easier
to spin the prayer-wheel of naked soul, virtue
is difficult
unless you undress
to lie fully with the sacred harlot of
wisdom, for
it is hard to untie shoes for the bedtime of vision
in the closet of dogma unlit by love...
* * *
... neither dogma nor creed, but
life, itself, my scripture...bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb
Oh pagan mistress, your sins weighed heavy
Your conspicuous makeup masks your unsightliness
If only your admirers knew of your sins against man
They would have, long ago, cast you into the streets
Harlot, bide your time, bide your time o' woman of ill repute
Soon, your patrons will see you for who you really are
Then, the weeping and gnashing of your teeth will be