Short Lisbon Poems

Short Lisbon Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Lisbon by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Lisbon by length and keyword.


Premium Member Tips To Portugal Enjoyment

Please see Gulf of Cadiz
Praia da Rocha Beach
Tour port cellars and bridges
hop-on hop-off buses make travel easy
take oh my cod food tour with Ricardo in Lisbon


Lack of Privacy

Lack of Privacy 

In Lisbon
Between parked cars
A man defecated
I wondered if he had 
Loo paper  
Probably not 
I turned away 
Drunk or sober
This was his private moment

Uncle John's Music

Daddy's piano plays my sadness
The funeral of a feeling
with a funny uncle at the mass

The windows feel the breeze
it's  6 pm in the afternoon, in Lisbon
The sun hides in a purple dusky sky
We feel formal but weak 
We feel the missing of a heart

Premium Member Obrigado

If you're in the Brazilian city of Sao Paulo, or a little further north in Rio De Janeiro, there is one important Portuguese word to know. If Lisbon is where you go, or if you travel to Oporto, to thank anyone in these cities, just say "obrigado".
Form: Monorhyme

a saint

Who is this saint?
From which church?
Who’s he talking to?
What is this saint?
I don’t have time
To think of him,
What is this saint?
He is not in Lisbon,
He is not in Rome,
What is this saint?
He does not think of me,
A crook or a magician,
What is this saint?
Valentine’s Day?
Excuse me, I don’t know.


national day

National day

25 of April Portugal's
national day
It so happened my ship, birthed that day
a night Lisbon didn't sleep
Great Jubilation
whores gave their wares for free
thieves didn't steal
and the bar owner splashed brandy.....
generously into your glass
I came back onboard five in the morn
waving a Portuguese banner
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Lisbon

Lisboa é boa*. Yeah, Lisbon is good
at very long distance of dreams.
The shivering traveler pulls up his hood:
it seems that the traveller misunderstood
what’s autumn in Portugal. Streams

of water run volubly down the steep streets,
the wind searches pockets and sleeve,
the sheets hung to dry do not differ from sheets
of rain… That’s what happens when fantasy meets
reality and both leave.


(port.) Lisbon is good.

Sunlit Cascais

Sunlit Cascais

Today the sun shines
Over the bay, a pilot boat 
Is going out
To take a small coast ship
into Lisbon.
In the night
the couple upstairs
made robust love
Plaster fell as snow
on our bed.
And that was ok
ing is better than war
I know the woman
often see her in the foyer 
she looks haughty and chaste
and unsmiling.
Not that I would tell
about her nightly desire
but the falling plaster
it is a worry.

Premium Member Long Leisurely Lunch

Lazy, long, leisurely lunch,
    Lolling, laughing, lingering,
     O'er lamb-stew, linguini 'n lager.

   In Louisville, Los Angeles, Las Vegas,
    London, Lisbon, or Lyon;
     At Los Olivos, Las Palmas, La Paloma,
      La Scala, La Baguette, or La Castilla:

   Let lunch lie palatially on your palate,
    Let lunch slowly settle in your limbs,
     Let lunch last always:
      Let it lustrate and luminate
       Life lived long and lived well.

When You Have To

When you have to

On a coach from Lisbon to Porto
the loo was locked, for safety reasons
the driver had the key.
 It takes a modest soul much courage to walk up   
get the key and return it.
I walked the Conesa walk three times.
People began noticing me and appeared friendly.
The driver took pity told me to leave the key in the door
he would pick it up after the journey.
With the key in place, it was surprising 
who many who felt the need for a pee.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Burlesque

2026

2026

New Year's Eve, the two of us
Eat at seven to prepare for the fireworks at twelve
She had sweet wine, and I drank red wine
We both fell asleep 
Then we woke up, it was ten to twelve, but we
were drowsy and sat  there listening to
the noise outside
Rockets spewing red stars that had no lingering
light, dying instantly 
The noise outside continued, the Lisbon mayor 
Sad it would last ten minutes
I thought someone was frightened of tomorrow
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Greased Lightning

Saltcoats born,Saltcoats bred
His darts left many a defender for dead
Had he not been flagged so often for offside
His haul of goals would have sky-highed
His quick reflexes the eye deceived
Leaving linesmen blind to his onside speed
This was a Lisbon Lion with a cheetah's pace
Forcing defenders to foul rather than  chase
Faster by far than any other
He caused defences all sorts of bother
Let us recall with affection  wee Bobby Lennox
To opposing teams always a marauding  menace.
Form: Rhyme

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