Short Inedible Poems
Short Inedible Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Inedible by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Inedible by length and keyword.
Our love was so tasty and sweet
now it's sour and inedible.
I should have chosen another
selection of sweets.
Instead I chose a mesmerizing
unpredictable bit size.
A Bengal tiger has an uncanny hunch
That he'll encounter a tasty beast to munch
Finding an inedible Prey
with fear he roars go away!
Then runs to seek a more suitable lunch
The lemon tree is very pretty with a sweet flower.
However, it has an inedible fruit that is very sour.
The juice needs a lot of sugar to make it sweet.
The unadulterated pulp is something we cannot eat.
My scribbles scrammbled on a tatty bit of paper
I vomit ideas
Before they vapour
They appear inedible mountains of mess
I churn and turn the illegible scribbles to words that truly bless
I am a dyslexic writer - Published Poem in Forgotten Letters
Everybody poops
but mine don't stink
What the heck, am I supposed to do
they think I'm full of crap
but I have to swear it's true
'Cause when I'm on the potty
An arrangements on its way
Then I let lose some colon fruit
and it smells like a bouquet
For Roy's poop contest
Hold up your cup of cheer, my friend!
I’ll hold your hand, and squeeze. You wince.
Your life - it’s not to save, but spend.
Work hard, its yield! Spice up with quince!
1/1/2017
Chastushka Poem
Quince – inedible raw but transforms into an aromatic and delicious treat, when cooked.
Mockery law spoofed boycott,
Survived the beast of a desert tooth.
Hunger answered by inedible dinner goth.
Skin and bones as the cloth.
Under sieged bloodthirsty pavement,
There are no rules, full bombardment.
Struggle means risking the beguilement.
Why be a slave when life is enfranchisement.
marred this mead of honeyed brew
yet flaxen still thy rotten spike
and spoil it so inedible
but haste unto her charge, she will
and grail be this austere cup
to carry off ignobleness
and watch it drain through gullet of
a wrongsome hound, the cad, it must
and mete thy charm, ye witches grail
Jellyfish, Jellyfish
What are you good for?
Not good for the belly, you litter the beach, ...your tentacles reach
right through sand and surf, to sting our bare feet!
Inedible you are
I'd rather by far
bring me a jar
of jam that is red
some good peanut spread
to smear on my bread
instead!
_________________________
Atop an inverted pyramid
A seismic shift in brain chemistry takes place
Channelling all mojo into a spiralling funnel
Bottom of it a mirage of an alluring treat
An inedible slice of chocolate cake
There a chocoholic dwells
This mid-crisis coping mechanism exits in vain
Worshipped till another fascinating self-revelation sets in
I made the strangest, weirdest, most inedible collage
Out of sticks and pretzels and things from Uncle Petey’s garage
I glued on nails, screws, feathers, ribbons and fur.
The fur made a noise, much louder than a grrrrrrrrrr
It was still attached to an animal who now had my head
In a vice, between his teeth, there was a bear claw. I am dead.
In an Elysian wood,
flitting faeries
among the trees
ponder their
magical seeding,
for a fairy ring
they’ll build,
within the greenwoods
emerald sea.
Moss-laden ferns
feathery light,
help feed faerie magic
late at night growing fungi,
puffballs round,
a faerie ring,
inedible magic.
2-15-2022
A STRAND (1074) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
How many layers should you peel off an onion?
I often stomp in the salad
yes, until it is inedible
In confidence _ to risk
Trust must always lie with the bottom up
The gears are spinning
Call me naive
I believe ... until proven otherwise
Me’ Fury
Me’ fury, ensue, inasmuch of the bullies; my halo es leaning, me’ grimace is beaming, my hand on the hilt, mahound be at awe, es me’ duty
Sheathe the’ inedible reach, lid thy albinism duress, your forehead me’ claymore to rest, snipe fell manual take topheth, down to the cove shall descend
Coffer, tricely Mankind, pending another one come, donion debar de devil, Lord with the wade, or bis mein Woden o hoard
My brook has grown
into an ocean.
Pearl-spot fish
have disappeared.
Instead,
sharks skulk around.
They see
my pocket,
not my heart.
They’re
democratically undemocratic.
Poetry is inedible.
Profit is
the sole default
in their thought-mechanism.
Shark morphing
petrifies me.
I wake up
from the dreamy life,
losing my serenity
in their serrated presence.
I turn
a tiny sardine,
ready to be swallowed.
First published in The Literary Hatchet