Short Pan Poems
Short Pan Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Pan by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Pan by length and keyword.
Clearing her old shelves
Mom's bread pan--
Before it rusted.
Baker's Dozen Contest of MaureenMcGreavy
10/13/2018
A limerick-composing old man
Devised a most devious plan.
Rejecting convention,
I fear I must mention,
He fried all his verse in a pan.
The eating of pie before dinner,
It isn’t on point to get thinner.
It’s best to let go
That tin pan of woe,
And be a calorical winner.
to some them its insane
its part of game
begging for change
there aim
is shake down
watch them around
stand with cane handler
the
PANHANDLER
I am the unknown hermit
living beyond your sight
Follow your puppets
beneath lives the boy who never grew up
Living in reality but not in real time
there was a young trout named Dan
who loved to steel bait from the line
one day it was said
a fly hit his head
and Dan became fillets in the pan
Unriddle this riddle before me
questions thrown helter skelter in the air
~ making an omelet from the medley
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
I have a very childlike mind,
I've never left my childhood behind,
Most people think that I am daft,
Cos childish thoughts make me laugh,
It's ridiculous but sublime!
hey brother
i can't turn to other
will you help please
i have needs
this how the beg
some have legs peg
and stand with a plan
as cup and bandler
theses
PAN HANDLER
The
Turkey
That escaped
This thanksgiving
Wanting more living
Had fled in November
In hope he would remember
The route with the fastest vessel
To Britain where Christmas was special
The stars look pretty from down here,
Lying on my side.
This chicken doesn't want to hold me,
I'm too heavy for playground rides.
I'm not a child anymore.
At least I try.
Especially
After Strawberry Daiquiris.
As the old broom glides across the floor
Sweeping up remnants of lunch's crumbs
Someone rings the bell at the den door
I leave dog hair, spilled food and come
My love greets me with a pan of plums
my poems are crap
written on toilet tissue
waste bin overflows
I straighten each sheet
these words will get flushed away
perfect recycling!
Crumpled Thoughts Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
01/14/21
Unlike an opera Diva,
a writer hides his age
Scores to bear eternal youth,
a Contralto dies on stage
Ink reclaims the Land of Oz,
Dorothy to know
Toto barks—old lyrics march,
Peter Pan aglow
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2017)
I will never grow up!
Me either! I scream with delight.
You can’t make me go to school!
Now we have a differing opinion.
Because I go to school every day
So, I can be around others who never want to grow up
And I am not talking about the children.
No time to explain
Why I cannot restrain
Planned Coronium
Wild side cartwheel
Fighting for another meal
Planned Coronium
Diablo an incident
Really no coincidence
Planned Coronium
Slain black rain
Corona heated death defeated
Planned Coronium
A fisherman hooked him a croc
inside it was a ticking clock
The fisherman took out a jar
of Peter Pan,* said - 'Here you are'
The croc did thank the fisherman
as they sailed the sea to 'Never-Land'
________________________________
*Peanut Butter, of course...
Yes! You are bloodhound! Just do fun with rule!
I’m your kick; your punch with cursive language!
Maybe you are the best norm of the Satanic pan!
But look still the best stand here with rose
and think that you will understand all
and you will come back as human!
-July 23, 2018 Chattogram
Forget the mother hen's grief,
frying pan waiting
with egg, milk, onion, chilli,
flip it in the air----
chick's dream fly.....omelette
ready now,
yum!
© kashinath karmakar
=========================
By :kashinath karmakar (28th April 2011)
Contest:Fast food Epulaeryu
Sponsor:Gwendolen Rix
I woke up at three a.m.
Some call it the witching hour.
I call it the imagination hour.
I felt like something was happening, so I looked outside.
Saw Peter Pan and Wendy heading to the second star to the right.
“Straight on ‘til morning” a voice said in my head.
It was more than enough to make my night fabulous!
Pan plays alone, disguised as a brownie or imp
Playing his flute, showing off for a charming nymph
The forest is silent, except for his pretty melody.
What more could happen? How much greater could we be?
This was from the nymph who almost always wanted more.
Pan played his melody forward, and his heart gave a soar.
It seems we all love a good slam
So this is spurious
For the clicking Bi-Curious
Slam Furious
Everything and Everyone
Is annoying
To Wrestlers
Body Slam
God Damn
Here comes the sting
The world is your ring
Slam what you hate suffering
Call a spade a spade
Rage against the wall
Be the ball
Make the call
Standing in the middle
of yesterday’s tomorrow,
she streams her existence
through reverse osmosis
to purify the memories
and wishflowers
into a mineral-enhanced
presence of being.
Capping her new essence,
she turns away
from that second star on the right
and flies straight on,
no looking back,
no mourning.
Close your eyes; take my hand; let yourself feel.
I’ll be your Wendy if you’ll make it real!
Fly me away to a dreamland that brings
waterfall wishes on stars with no swings.
Sept. 15, 2019 for Gregory Barden's Arbitrium Divisa 4 Poetry Contest
This is the last quatrain of my poem, Waterfall Wishes on Stars With No Swings
Chinese myth is about Pan Gu
First god who kept Yin-Yang true
Earth was made of Pa Gu’s prone corpse
His eyes became the sun and moon of course
His blood formed the rivers, all thousand and three
Sparse hair grew into China’s plants and trees
This god as much a legend as Greeks and Romans claim
Chinese god, Pan Gu is his mighty name