Short Old Boy Poems
Short Old Boy Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Old Boy by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Old Boy by length and keyword.
Have another drink, old boy,
It will fill you up with joy.
Christmas comes but once a year,
We'll drink it all as it is here.
The ugly old tomcat was feral
Rumors abound that he’s sterile
But when the moon’s high
All the hot kitties sigh
Tease that old boy at your peril
I see the fingernails of a nine-year-old boy
at the end of my hands
They make me laugh.
How did he get them away from me?
And how did he reattach them?
Four-year-old boy says to Sunday school teacher
My mommy almost made us late to church!
She had to make herself boo tee ful.
But she is already boo tee ful!
Mud between my toes,
It is your 9-year-old-boy-side, my husband sings out.
We have been together for fifty years.
Have I taught this man nothing?
I am a girl.
Old Jack Walton-Horn was a mighty old boy.
He was a farmer full of joy.
He harvest corn.
His son was name John.
_________________________|
Penned on May 17, 2014!
Mud between my toes.
My nine-year-old-boy my husband sings.
We have been together fifty years.
Have I taught him nothing?
Nine-year-old girls get dirty too.
Duh!
when the king was told that his old-boy friends’ billions were hurting
that his people were starving
and that some unworthy workers were dying
he proclaimed
let them eat red meat
Four o´clock in the morning.
Cold, alone and trying to sleep.
The bench at the railroad ticket office serves as the old boy cradle,
covered just by all the whole dreams of his life as a cooing blanket.
There lies The Drifter
o41oe
o 4 1 naughty the old boy did say,
thinking about sex,
before she wandered away,
but he missed out that night,
forever and aye....
oh for one naughty,
no never that way....
Don Johnson
bit of slang Aussie maybe 1960s
A Marine kneeling in front of a boy
A seven year old boy with hands extended
barely containing his sorrow
Presenting him with a folded flag
With quivering chin, fighting back tears
In acknowledgement that his dad
…Has no tomorrow…
I'm dancing in the snow
And the cold it doesn't hit me
Never mind I'm barefoot now
And the madness doesn't clothe me.
I'm happy-- ain't that something?
And this season I'm feeling joy
Belief is a treasure I'm gifted this year
And hope a day old boy.
My son was the perfect
Gerber Baby
So tiny and sweet
He was only 7 pounds even
Me and his father loved him
At first sight
Now my boy is a healthy and happy 14 year old boy
Who brings us joy everyday
He was indeed
The best
Gerber Baby
Ever
Michele Lee Moyer
Mom, today we studied simile
What is simile?
A sentence that uses like or as to compare two things
Like a green car riding on the road is like a running vine?
Or A red car riding on the road is like a running red rose?
Yeah mom just like that!! woohoo!
A fifteen year old boy
Wakes up in a warm
Bed
After a night of hanging out with
Friends
thinking
“damn,”
“ I have school today”
A five minute drive away
A boy no older than
Fourteen
Awakes in a card board box
Smiling, thinking,
“I'm still alive.”
This is not an illusion.
Crying...with a wet diaper
The two-year-old boy weeps
Mom and dad still sleep
His five-year-old sister awakes- hyper
She thinks- "I'll give him a cookie"
The boy stops bawling- good thinks, by the rookie
Bite Size Poem No28 Poetry
Contest Sponsored by Line Gauthier
11/29/2021
My, he really is something, my egotistical friend -
Enigmatic and choleric he will be till the very end;
Youth, the loss of it, causes him no alarm, he's just so cool,
Outwardly, creaky bones and all, he still acts like a young bull.
Keep going, old boy, I pray, till the next grandchild comes your way.
There she goes again the ten-year-old boy said.
We all stared at the empty house.
None of us knew what he was seeing.
No one else saw anything.
The phantom ghost took another walk by the upstairs window.
Didn’t you see that? the child asked.
The rest of us saw nothing.
Not being tuned in the way he was.
Why insensibly annoy
The three-year-old boy
With tales about Ancient Troy
That does gaiety destroy,
When you can his vivacity buoy
With some blue-eyed toy
Or a much sweetened soy
That heightens a child’s joy;
Or before him act a decoy
Or some crazy song employ
About a girl unprofitably coy
The Pure Gold, a sweetened soy
Tales about Troy, The Alloy.
She is freezing but she gets into one more car.
It has been a slow night.
She will help this lonely man feel less lonely
And she will have more money to feed her
Waiting six-year-old boy.
He is hungry.
And so is she.
If she has just a little more they will have a
Better Christmas.
She makes lively conversation.
She is sweet.
But he is not lonely
And she never makes it home.
Everybody likes flowers right,
Except children who were violated in bedrooms with flowered wallpaper.
Oh.
Everyone loves faeries right?
Except a sensitive young twelve-year-old boy who was called one.
Right.
Everyone likes to nap, right?
Have you ever met a two-year old?
Everyone is the craziest word ever.
It should be eliminated.
Unless you are speaking of air, water, and food.
Me and my pal
Snoopy so cute
Frolicking in the park
He is licking my boot
This time of year,early Fall
Before the snow flies
We are both playing ball
Kissing the dew of park grass
As I roll over
he is wagging tongue on my ass
OH-the fun!!
An ancient smile from the old boy
Giving me the Treasure
Of a 5 yr old's joy
It is a Happy time that we can recall
Popcorn for 10 cents
While enjoying dog BALL
Form:
A twelve year old boy
stands covered in ‘mud’
What the plasterers call
cement
His Grandfather came
and offered a job
For each hour,
he’d pay fifty cents
The buckets were heavy,
the scaffolding high
As he kept those mortar boards
full
And at the end of that summer,
more man than a boy
With new confidence
—his future to cull
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)
(This is a fictional poem but this really does happen.)
You touched me down there and I'm going to tell Mom and Dad.
Don't touch me there again because I know that it's bad.
You touched me down there and that was wrong.
When I tell my parents, you won't be my nanny for very long.
I'm only an eight year old boy, why do you treat me this way?
You touched me down there and when I tell on you, you're going to pay.
Form:
COLLABORATING WITH SHAKESPEARE
O Romeo, ahh...Juliet - a pair.
These youths, so fair of face, in love, despair.
Though years would teach a major change of thought.
Dear Juliet would murder him whose caught.
Then he’d but be a Romeo, forspent
by blond and brunette hairs — not worth four cents.
Spare the old boy his years? Now don’t you quit!
Put down the potion, dear — love’s not worth it.
6/14/2019