Short Lumberjack Poems
Short Lumberjack Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Lumberjack by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Lumberjack by length and keyword.
The tree Limb snapped off
it fell on the Lumberjack
it hurt him very badly
He kept working, tho.
Copyright McCuen 2008
The Malls are filled with Christmas trees
And every one will make me sneeze
No frosty spray
Will save the day
Zealots dub it, "Lumberjack Wheeze".
My sacroiliac is really quite outta whack
My body used to resemble that of a lumberjack
As time goes by
The pain intensifies
Till I'm screaming out loud like a nymphomaniac
The tree Limb snapped off;
it fell on the Lumberjack,
he needed stitches
it hurt him very badly;
He kept working all day, tho!
Copyright McCuen 2008
Is it Proper to say I LOVE Ewe to a sheepherder?
Is it proper for a lumberjack to say I LOVE Yew?
Is the Poplar the most Popular of trees?
Yule be surprised when there are no Presence under the tree
Is it Proper to say I LOVE Ewe to a sheepherder?
Is it proper for a lumberjack to say I LOVE Yew?
Is the Poplar the most Popular of trees?
Yule be surprised when there are no Presence under the tree
There was a very old giant lumberjack of England,
who was invited to dinner at a wood-house upland,
but the chimney was a wee bit low,
and the doorway came up to his toe,
he cut down the house and they dined on bare land.
Mary Jo's from the country, a real backwoods lass
Chops wood like a lumberjack they're not in her class
When Tot yells timber
You'd better be limber
Better run, don't stand there like a silly old ass
© Jack Ellison 2015
The zombie lumberjack
cries from love,
and the tiger did it.
What is in words
when all we have is motion?
And the hours falling
balanced in October,
they fell from your eyes
to my lips
to my heart.
Love does not exist
without considerable digestion.
As I look upon you,
As you look upon me.
I love you.
The dresses of many a distant phase,
the casual attire of black and white,
the lumberjack shirts that were once, my craze.
The hoodies that hide me, both day and night,
the caps that shadow me from day’s sunlight.
The leather jacket for boldness of face,
the styles I’ve hid, for fear of losing face.
07.02.2024
When I grow up I will be
A forest with every kind of tree.
Part of a dark brilliant woods
I will do all the gets, leave out the should’s.
People will revere me for my age.
My rings will show my wisdom sage.
Of course I’m in no hurry to be cut down.
Unless it’s done by a lumberjack clown.
A lumberjack clown I’d like to be
If I cannot be a forest with every kind of tree.
Lavish lilac layers link lofty laurel lunar lanterns
laissez-faire luxurious largesse lifts labouring lumberjack
loop-de-loop lilting Limerick levity lessens life’s load
laughter laden-lampoon, a little lacerating labyrinthine lip
limelight lustrous leonine lithe lady launches lavender lace
lucid lissome leisurely land loper locket livid loom
Lopsided lounge lizard’s love-lies-bleeding loose leaf
Bunyan and blue Babe
water crossing through water
pine scent combs Paul’s beard
U.S. curling capital
stalks of sunflowers
fanboy sun towards heaven
logger’s cold sets in
hard Winter in the North Woods*
mosquito frostbites
Babe and the lumberjack thrash
thunder and earthquakes —
quench me with life and legend
9/25/2020
*A legend is told of the giant Paul Bunyan and Babe, his blue ox.
(This is a fictional poem)
I'm tired of having to beg.
Please shave your damn legs!
It's been so long since you've shaved your legs, I can't keep track.
It's like making love to a lumberjack.
It's embarrassing when we go out in public because you always wear a dress.
If you are wondering if people are laughing at us, the answer is yes.
I feel like I'm on a cliff and I'm about to go over the edge.
Please do everybody a big favor and shave your damn legs!
Early in a damp woodsman's camp
seeing sawyers from a logging town
to stop the conversation bogging down
as asked my age among other things
I replied, 'Cut off my head and count the rings,'
then had to be quick-witted and fast-footed
made a bee-line through the trees
so as not to lose my noggin
when a burly lumberjack grabbed his axe
I ducked and dodged his mighty swing
which (in a nonce) saved my bacon (and my bonce)
and them's the actual facts
Always thinking
But never knowing
Constantly sinking
And never glowing
Feeling kind of different
Eating pancakes
Becoming diffident
Jumping into freezing cold lakes
Where did all the good things go
Im ready to break
My mind is what i need to slow
Or it's my world that will shake
I find my peace in poetry
I find it in what i write
Like a lumberjack tearing down a tree
Its what's right
So then what's wrong
Will it ever be done
It has been too long
Staring into the sun