Short New Yorker Poems
Short New Yorker Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about New Yorker by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about New Yorker by length and keyword.
Federico Garcia Lorca
was a would-be New Yorker:
his favourite ski event was the slalom,
and he wrote poems about Harlem.
Written for the tongue twister challenge
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aunty acquired an
antique armoire
for her red-leather yellow-leather
lingerie.
Unique New Yorker, she!
Little Jackie Foreigner
Was not born here
Now he’s in Queens, a New Yorker…
He says, ‘Vote for Mamdani
He’s sure to protect me
~ though I’m not a progressive like he’
New York can be drab, selfish and mean
I am walking with my head down,
I look dangerously angry and care not.
Then I get a glimpse of a bouquet
This bounces me into happyville.
Thank God for the real New Yorker
Who knew what my heart needed
I am a new yorker
from afar
I grew up in new york
with t.v. stars
All the cop shows
and broadway affairs
Make us new yorkers
even though we're not there
We see the devastation
and offer our prayers
We want you to remember
No matter what God is there
You've always been rude
but now its time to be kind
An opportunity to love
before the end of time
There are surgeries for bigger boobs
And bigger butts, as well
As implants meant for males to thus
Enhance their size and swell.
An article that I just read
(New Yorker Magazine)
Described such a procedure
And the problems often seen.
Why someone’d choose to surgically
Enlarge, for ego‘s sake,
A body part that functions
Seems, to me, a huge mistake.
I make you laugh,
I say the stupidest stuff.
You make me laugh,
You say the greatest things ever!
You make my day,
you make it "SunShine."
When its always cloudy.
I hope to do the same for you.
I say DO IT,
I say Flordia,
I say Coffee,
Then I say Water.
I'm your New yorker
and your my farm girl.
I'm Your Goofy,
Your better side.
Lets make,
each other laugh,
all the times,
of our lives.
Goofy 's back
Form:
I never let a day pass by
Without a chance to read,
For words provide the nourishment
On which my mind does feed.
To fiction I’m addicted;
Every chapter is a fix,
The Times and The New Yorker
Adding interest to the mix.
My grandson’s sitting next to me,
A chapter book in hand,
The joy of reading something
That we each can understand.
How wonderful to share with those
We love the pure delight
Of reading stories that
Another reader chose to write.
Betty Page New York Paint
Armenian Trace
The child's water
Sailing luxury
Strings off from sight of Italy
Calmed duration
Inlands islands
Cotton spokes
A cats residence
Before memory of the shop
Key Lime
Cookie Thins
And Coffee
The French jam sister of yours
Plays at reunions
With herself
Go bothered, Erin
It's her? The sister it gave you?
Yes Betty
Kevin, she watches "Will He Become Trollops"
In England!
Very Interupt, two should hide in one often
I walk like a New Yorker
At a swift and steady pace.
In other towns, my gait might seem
A little out of place.
New Yorkers never saunter,
Rarely ramble, hardly stroll
For on city streets, such movement
Would quite quickly take its toll.
So when out-of-towners visit,
You can spot them right away
As they amble down the sidewalk,
Thinking such a thing’s okay.
It might be just fine in places
Where the pace of life is slow
But a genuine New Yorker
Needs to go-go-go-go-GO!