Short Hydraulic Poems
Short Hydraulic Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Hydraulic by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Hydraulic by length and keyword.
Returning
as a man
woken from the sleep
of lost memory
Daydreaming now
the only option
eyes wide open
images flash
Moments before
become moments after
painting all reference
in shades of gray
Starting the ending
to seal its inception
each step taken
—forward and back
(The New Room: March, 2023)
Roar goes the monstrous winds of the west
Whooshing against the coast
The Blustery waves battling against the sails and boats
Surfers loving the gigantic waves
Hydraulic action,
Attrition and Deposition
You name it
Gives us a wonderful coast
Beautiful and peaceful
The lovely breeze,
Green hills,
And the attractive landscape
Make us fall in love with the countryside.
Form:
Hey, Horsepower’s Runnin’
Got Your Motor Hummin’
V-8 Saying Somethin’
Icy-Roads, Don Mean Nuthin’
Got Your Winterized – Protection
… A Little Fuel – Injection
Flowing Your Direction
You Big-Rig Diesel – Action !
Valvoline – Clean …
Spark – Plugs, Packing Zing !
Cylinder’s Jumpin’
Let’s Get That Gas Pumpin’
So, Don’t Just Set There Idlin’
Let’s Watch These Miles Go Flyin’
‘Cause You’re Way Past Stallin’
Hydraulic – Honey, Got You Haulin’
If I were an elephant I’d shave off my trunk.
Shave off my trunk! Who woulda thunk?
Cause a really long nose
reaching down to my toes
is an ostentatious piece of junk.
But wait, how the heck would I shower?
I’d need a huge hunk of hydraulic power.
to rinse the plaque
off my big back
and time-wise, it’d consume half an hour!
So I guess my trunk I’d keep.
So I could shower on the cheap
and pick up the soap
or salute the Pope
if he paraded by in his Jeep
*no contest
WoodWork
I am going bald,
because summer has come upon me with clippers.
My hair is burning and breaking
like a wasteland.
Spills cover my face,
anointed with hydraulic fluid and oil. I store death in my lungs,
breathing out carbon monoxide.
Don't curse me
when I lose my tenderness,
wearing away each year, bearing neither flower
nor fruit to feed even the flies.
The chainsaw ravages the forest.
If I fall, I will be as good as wood.
~ Uche Chidozie Okorie