Short Housewives Poems
Short Housewives Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Housewives by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Housewives by length and keyword.
My neighbour out searching for conkers
Is blessed with incredible honkers
But when she bends down
All the housewives frown
Where to look drives their husband bonkers!
Housewife
Rises early
Before sun cooks breakfast
Graciously cares for family
Servant
Thanks David Williams for contest
The Three H's
Theme chosen: Housewives
Form:Traditional Cinquain
June 2, 2012
In Europe women have
A better education
And fewer children
Then before when
They were mere housewives
When they all have
Master degrees
No children will be born
And they will have to
Get them from abroad.
The white tribe
Will die out
Just like the hobbit man
Grandma wore petti-pants, a form of straight bloomers to exercise class.
Back in the fifties, you had to wear dresses, to cover your…..
In grayscale, these housewives bent, grunted and gave a big reach.
The days before work-out-clothes, women were daring to say the least.
Dust swirls up from the country lane
Traffic stirs clouds of gravel and sand
And swearing from the unhappy profane
Dust swirls up from the country lane
Driving unhappy housewives insane
The natural result of crusty, dry land
Traffic stirs clouds of gravel and sand
Dust swirls up from the country lane.
Written June 17, 2021
[triolet slightly modified]
Palm trees are being blown out to sea today
In the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and far away
Hurricane Idalia is making sure she is having her way
When we think of Florida we all must pray
Alligators are in hiding, the manatees too
Housewives have stopped cooking their beef stew
People are all running toward Interstate ninety-five.
Trying to escape so they can stay alive.
Just exactly how old
Is
Eva Longoria
She of Desperate Housewives Fame
Because the tv advert she is on
advertising facial skin wrinkle
cream
She looks and has the skin of
a 20 year old but surely that
can't be right
Because that show if memory
serves me correct ended and
was on a long time ago
Hasn't she aged well she is
looking younger by the day
Note to self
Must try that cream myself
French emancipation
French women are free, well-educated and elegant,
but spend much time to attract men.
Easy of virtue, yet frantically look to get married to
a wealthy man, who can free them of distressing liberation.
They will intellectualize their misery, see themselves
as Sagan Melancholic, ye yarning to me middle class
housewives worrying about the price of garlic, meet
other wives and talk endlessly about equality.
whereby shall the young shelter their skin
without a home to hire their hand
a moments rest beside a beggar and trash can
young years spent inside a starving soul
much of faith was lost beyond control
harlot housewives tease their baffled hair
children with rich parents spit on their shoelaces
calling them ugly neglected ducks
the gamin are children neglected
who roam the streets and wish upon broken stars magnified by streetlights
Stone hands slide across wooden faces,
With a timeless intention,
Of man’s damnation,
To glimpse at a movement,
Searching for salvation,
We stand in lashing winds,
Of spoken rage,
And caress the moment,
Before,
The wheat grain,
Slips,
Away,
And desperate housewives,
Transmute into schizophrenic princesses,
Waltzing through a ballroom palace,
Stone hands capture each breath,
And inside glass bottles,
They chime,
Then fall on disciples,
Time stops,
Life,
Dies…
Leprechauns do a jig
Moguls eat a fig
Rubes eat a pig
Crimson is real big
Accountants get a raise
Bankers get to appraise
CEO's get to the next phase
Crimson is the post chaise
Crime lords get the bling
Business men get a one night fling
Choir of Angels sing
Crimson is the thing
Dogs get a bone
Assistants get to phone
Wives stay at home
Crimson sets the tone
Pop stars get the entourage
Winners wear a corsage
Housewives put on a visage
Crimson is a mirage
THE AWAKENING
It was midnight that I laid still
and breath had filtered down
An open book - a nagging fly
will wait for me until
bestirred at morning’s knock
when stoves excite a brew
and housewives stir a door
toward sunrise bursting through -
to heaven like a broom
sweeping eyelids like a fan
and chattel and dust balls
like billiards across the room -
that wake the inner chambers
of my brain i separate stalls
that conjure up my daily tasks
within these slumbered walls