Short Mushed Poems
Short Mushed Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Mushed by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Mushed by length and keyword.
I never did like applesauce
And can’t stand either jello
Mushed up apples turn me off
And jello wiggles in my throat
I prefer to eat solid food
Crave that crunch or chew
What foods do you crave too
What does it say about you
First you take a little child the younger ones are best
Sit them in a dark cold house, remove all signs of zest
Pack them full of stories all about the world outside
Add a little fear and then you take away their pride
With individuality well and truly crushed
A few more years of mixing and their brains are truly mushed
It's Spring but the snow still comes down.
It falls till it covers the ground.
It melts and then freezes,
I'm up to my kneeses,
In mud, slush and snow by the pound.
I saw the first Robin today,
Wearing toque, scarf and boots in a sleigh.
It was too cold to fly,
So he mushed right on by,
Headed South without further delay.
the beat rushes
rushes through
through my body
it has
power
strength
stability.
all mushed together
forms a catchy
melody,
maybe harmony.
it disguises the
true feeling
inside
sometimes,
and only sometimes,
that feeling
is fully exposed;
naked
you can understand
exactly
what
the
artist
is
feeling.
That dirty green hearse (the
first one I'd ever seen)
Mushed through traffic
Like a Notre Dame back
on a muddy field.
Dripped slush, tears
Aiming straight down
A hollow cheek
and left to mingle
unnoticed on concrete,
And flung salty sleet
Bathing me in half-hearted
insult,
Two miles from no-land
And a scented corpse.
slightly edited June 30, 2021
Bananas
Here come the sailors of the Seventh Fleet
With their bananas ripe, ready to eat
The ladies, they like them firm
Musty one’s make them squirm
Why can’t liberty always be so sweet!
Limes
They’re green and round not yellow and curvy
Bruised or mushed never—topsy turvy!
Peeled back skin often slimy
Best citrus fresh and limey
Sailor lime-juicer’s sucked to cure scurvy
Your chest is heavy,
with lungs of lead.
your hopes and dreams are now all dead.
Your mind is blank
as your heart has sank
Dreams are crushed
hopes are flushed
thoughts are mushed
mind is rushed.
Lungs of lead
bring breaths of dread,
the pounding continues in your head.
the tears swell
you life hell.
The pain is more,
to the tears form your core,
there is no more
to be said.
Bricks under our soles, and
The fluttering of mushed sounds
Paddle inside mine ear.
A portion resembles a desperate race -
Another scoop conveys an andante walk -
And a fierce heap of…
Stiff and hollow steps—
Ring in a shallow manner—
Down through the dim alleyway—
Methinks, they are all going in some sort of
Clear or foggy direction,
Where some signs are faded from the sunlight,
And some signs are scratched away at by the
Huffing—and—puffing of the decades.