Short Piper Poems
Short Piper Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Piper by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Piper by length and keyword.
‘ The Pied Piper and The Tiger … ’ 67th Senryu
Both: The Pied Piper
The Lady Or The Tiger …
Readers Picks … Either …
Drunk on the fear of our own misgivings,
we stagger and stray…
—toward the sound of the piper
(Grantham New Hampshire: March, 2015)
Threats of blood baths easily roil
Cult members whose sentiments boil
Devotees tribal
Shall get D.T.’s bible
Soiled with drizzles of snake oil
The soup has a shortage of ads
Let’s call for more saying egads!
While they interfere
With the reason we’re here
We'll learn about doodads and fads
338
Death is the best
For rats for they
Mess up other
People’s lives
Without a care
Loyal-less
Without a soul
Glad there’s a
Piper on patrol
Called fentanyl
Happy birthday! It seems that time
has ran its course for another year;
the only difference, that I can find,
is that I love you, even more, my dear.
So silly he was:
The silly pied piper
Like bewitched stranger
Across busy streets of town
Rides like a female bull on heat
Mounted by a golden cow
With plastic horns
On her head.
She sat on her butt for a year
Eating cookies, pretzels and beer
Now looked at the scale
And started to wail
God, look at the size of my rear
for Carolyn's contest
Sadly, a true story
If I have rhyme, If i have reason, but where do i say ?
All the land screams, "keep it out of our bay" !
Hypocrisy is holy, sermons are hyper,
Every land is Hamelin but there is no pied piper.
(11.08.2023)
Peter Piper picked a peck
Of pickled peckers...
After the laughter subsided
I was in a peck of trouble,
In a real pickle so to speak.
Thank god he wasn't a woodchuck.
I'd still be saying Hail Mary's.
2/15/2020
I play what those-in-the-know
want you to hear
On my drum-and-fife
I tap out the stars-and-stripes
I’m the paid piper
Yes, I’m the paid piper
Green freckles and fresh sunshine beams
followed her to Lah Lah Land.
Puppy dog tails were close behind,
meowing and smirking,
Flying pigs rolled their eyes
but joined the parade.
She was the Pied Piper of Whimsy
So it was no surprise…
So the piper had this charisma thing with mice
He danced a little jig and they thought twice
The mice just had to follow where he trod
The whole thing seems to me a little odd
Although I'm sure his time for luck was ripe
Can't help but wonder where'd he get that pipe?
Peterson was his name.
Pied Piper was his fame,
Led kids down dark path with his flame,
Smokin pot and singin songs with no shame.
They dropped out of school, lazy and lame.
Now, vagrancy is their aim.
Sleepin and smokin weed, their game.
But Peterson felt no guilt and no blame.
She is the pied piper of the floral world.
Flowers gravitate to her day and night.
They travel for miles to latch onto her dress.
She never slows down for them, but they catch up.
She is a magnet for roses, daisies, dandelions and lilies.
Lilly of the Valley is not fast enough to catch up.
Pay the Piper,
he has come to collect.
Empty your pockets,
eliminate your debt.
The joyride is over,
it came with a price.
The Piper knows the amount,
he is extremely precise.
Revenge has many forms,
it has finally come to interrupt.
Today it takes the shape of the Piper,
time to pay up.
To the piper's gate
I rush headlong
With thoughts of fate
I sing along
Such beauty in his lilting
Such longing in his tune
So far over my heart is tilting
His voice my only boon
Such wonder in his words
A heady mix of passions fire
He can even charm the birds
The piper of my hearts desire
Pied piper Spider Spidy web poet of Lill
Jabbed by muse Arachne she got dressed to kill
She met her hubby Punisluffer
An web ballet choreographer
In fret and flirt she chomped his heart-a lovechill
He’s Mr Hyde the pied piper cat
He plays a flute and know where it’s at
His melody is roaring, exotic and phat.
We mice dance to his music, he’s our acrobat!
I wanted to warn my cousin slim.
I had seen cats before who acted like him.
But my cousin was content, and so was I
The day I got mesmerized when I wandered by.
I often wonder where she could be, what is she doing, is she thinking of me?
Like a clear blue sky or a single night star, her presence of beauty seems so far.
With her innocent smile and the color of her hair
The comfort of these memories, assure me she’s near
What is she doing, where could she be?
I can only hope she’s thinking of me.
The saddest thing to see
Looks so tiny waiting there
Is the coffin of a young baby
ground opened and prepared
Coffin is blessed and kissed
Said the final goodbye
by parents so distressed
who just want to die
The piper plays
Its soulful lament
The coffin is lowered
Prayers are sent
Mothers knees buckle
Too much to take in
This sad landscape
Of a white tiny coffin.
an economic an'a-list of things recorded
that t-rump-issed on the economic wall-street
....to play the orchestrated dis-chord movements
in 'bank-erupts foreclosure' symphonic music creations....
of a hollywood background moaner and groaner opera
sounding notes of a knotty volunteer financial fall guy
living off a billion dollar bank credit card
that's now been cancelled being that everything ends
stan sand
Pipe me a tune I can dance to
Or play a lament, as of old.
And pipe you a song
Serenely and strong
For then, I will pay you in gold.
Pipe, at the early of morning
Just as the sun forces through.
Then stand you alone
And quaver your tone
For a sovereign, I'll offer to you.
Pipe, at the lull of the evening,
Play you the sweetest refrain.
As darkness is cast
You pipe you your last
For I shall not pay you again.
As the Pauper sleeps...
The king no longer counts...
His castle stands dishevelled...
...his jester eats the mouse...
More gold arrives on boats...
...His men they build a moat...
Wring a Wring a rosy...
A pocket full of lint...
The scavengers are circling...
The kings pinnacle is spent...
Cadaver a his only Ali...
Coma broken...infection sent...
No more time to harvest...
The cow snatched the moon
with the sheep...
If Peter Piper got tired of picking pecks of pickled peppers,
and packed his jars of peppers, pickled, in boxes of newspaper,
placing them in a place that was picked for putting his peppers,
then returned to a different place of picking, to pick;
What, perchance, would Peter Piper pick, to pick,
in place of pickled peppers like the peppers he packed away,
and in what place would he put all his new pickings,
if his pickled pepper place was packed?