Short Poison Ivy Poems
Short Poison Ivy Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Poison Ivy by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Poison Ivy by length and keyword.
Venomous thoughts are
Like a poison ivy plant
That poison your soul
Withering you slowly as
A flower in a desert
1-22-2016
Wild sweet raspberries
The itch of poison ivy
Lightning bugs at dusk
Chlorine streaks my hair
Nose burns and peels, burns some more
Hated the swim team
Remember that leaves of three,
means you better let them be;
Don’t get a rash on your ass,
using the wrong type of grass,
when in the woods you have to go pee.
Hate,
Looks like poison Ivy that is slowly killing a tree,
Smells like death,
Sounds like a victory cry when your enemy is dead,
Chokes your soul so that no good feelings can grow.
I am infected.
I need your love.
It's like walking through poison ivy,
I am itching for you.
Please say, "I do"
Do you love me? Or do you not?
I love you so.
It's like walking through poison ivy,
I itch for you!
if i die before the day
heal the hurt that i have laid
on fragile flesh and innocent minds
that by chance became my shade
if i sleep eternal nights
save a prayer for the sick
sheltered in the poison ivy
by my hands now in contempt
Tough times I'm glad
Ready to face the hardest
The more times we had
Less sweat to walk the farthest
Your love is a needle in the ocean
Unforeseen yet attract my wisdom
Upon this savvy heart full of emotion
Never was I succumb of your ivy venom.
Grandma’s button box and first aid kit were both mainstays in the kitchen.
We knew she had everything to help us if we were hurting or itch'n.
If we tore up our pants, got poison ivy or ripped a button off our coat,
She could have us fixed up in seconds, and then milk a cow or a goat.
Covered deep in
Poison Ivy
A rash that spreads
and burns
Its toxic mass
left festering
With younger minds
to churn
What used to be
a noble cause
Malingers
in disease
Whose vines grow wild
to trap the dark …
That once were climbed
—to free
(The New Room: December, 2023)
Poison Ivy
Academia …
cesspool
of deception
harbinger
— of lies
(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)
Occam’s Edge
Plurality
without necessity
— pandering time
(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)
The Right Fork
Newness …
birth mother
to anticipation
(From ‘Calling Me Home:’ May, 2024)
Blotches and splotches,
Pink and red
Don't dare scratch:
It'll spread
Treat with loathsome liniments
And soporific pills,
But there's not a real cure:
Must suffer the ills
Watch out for pointy leaves
Grouped together, numbering three
Do your best to avoid it:
Poison ivy—the devil's weed
• The old lady down Marshall Road
• The one they call "Satan's witch"
• The raggedy woman whose claim to fame
• Is the hex of a thousand-year itch
• A rash worse than from poison ivy
• With burns more severe than hell
• She started small with a couple of men
• Before throwingthem down a well
My co-worker saved money by purchasing fake Calamine lotion.
The other eight people’s itching was gone in three days.
Her poison ivy welts are oozing, still bright red.
She is scratching and it has been three weeks.
Here is two dollars I say. Spring for the real Calamine lotion.
She spends it on a soda pop instead.
Rockin' tough
Rockin' touch
Rocket rock star's
Still in love
Hallowed halls of
Doobie's lair
The Sunset Gang
Played air band there
Mr. Salty
Zimmer-cam
Winkles and
The Ramel's jam
Wildman
Screaming Me
Pounded sounds
On Adams Street
Check us out
On cable TV
It's Sticks Rambo
and Company
Again its
Nineteen Eighty Three
The twisted and twirled
Poison Ivy
Of Pride and Arrogance
In the misty woods of its own,
Retaining itself to be shown
Or itself to be stirred.
The gusts of words
Not able to halt
The poison Ivy swelling,
Swelling on the earth of accessors,
Bringing death to all.
Nothing left but
The misty wood of
The twisty and twirled
Poison Ivy
Of Pride and Arrogance.
A line trimmer doesn’t really eat;
That’s a trick that would be quite neat.
Instead, it tends to aerosolize,
Throw grass in your nose and rocks in your eyes.
Turns poison ivy to a fine mist;
I know you think I’m a fantasist.
The next event: the shower dash
Or you will break out in a rash.
Correctly named, it sure does whack
And aggravate my lower back.
"Flowers are kissed by the rain as they get a bath." By Poet
Today I kissed the rain,
said one flower to the other.
Oh look,
the storm is letting up,
now we will be spellbound by sunlight.
This day is all most over,
But to be your Moon,
must I wane?
Did you know,
the night holds many secrets?
Watch out for Mr. Poison Ivy.
He says,
I am a dangerous dream.
(This is a fictional poem)
I sold my cousin some poison ivy but I told him that it was pot.
When he started itching, he regretted what he bought.
He rolled up a joint and took a toke.
When he didn't get high, many of my bones got broke.
I learned a valuable lesson as I looked at my bruises, cuts and scars.
Never try to pass poison ivy off as pot if the guy is bigger than you are.
Form:
Still listening from lips,
a mute hearing with hands,
an improper metaphor.
……………………………………
In the frozen lake of eyes
a fish dies
in unread tears.
………………………………….
An upended
home of laments
in moon.
………………………………….
Imperfect proximity
of pillows.
sleep was distance apart.
……………………………..
Like poison ivy
a gnawing to itch
and an itch to gnaw.
Satish Verma
Form:
Worker bee ant was sent to bake cakes in a kitchen.
I was assigned to poison ivy, so now I’m itch’n.
I wanted to switch, so I asked if she could.
No, I hate to bake, but compared to you, I am good.
I blamed my cousin who shares everything I say
A motormouth, he is a ding-a-ling most every day.
I lied and said the ivy was not so bad and asked to stay.
Worker bee ant knew better, so she laughed me away.
Wild berries and poison ivy wrap me,
warding off trespassers with their armor;
So toxic the taste will guard gingerly,
a virulent warning doused in glamour;
Maybe you should read the full disclosure;
Heed the warning or wind up getting hurt,
don’t make the mistake of trying to flirt;
You may get caught up in their appearance
stay mindful of not being an expert;
Feral beauty warns you maintain distance.
I have an itch
(Not for crack or coke)
To hit the road.
If you have it you feel it
If you don't,
You don't.
But an itch has to be scratched
(Unless it's chicken pox or poison ivy)
Before it drives you crazy.
It's too late to deny
Too late to change
Too much to ignore.
With blessings or curses
I'm leaving tomorrow.
If I disappear forever
I'm either happy or dead.
But I have to go now,
Before I scratch off my head.
You're my jazz
You're my blues
You are all that I would choose.
You're my poison Ivy
My Jasmine rose
My Three a.m calls
What exists in the folds of ink on my notes
My lilac sky and my northern star
my sunset, my midnight blues
My medicine and my hurt
my blessing , my curse
My tide and waves
My sip of Chamomile tea, my rosé
My shot of whiskey, the acid to my alkaline
and all that I wish was mine.
You fill me with strange dreams;
Sleep with poison ivy,
it creates a wild twitch;
Restrained by wicked vines,
my skin inflamed I itch;
You fill me with strange dreams;
Into soothing starlight
sugar balloons explode;
Could never cause damage;
What’s real starts to corrode;
You fill me with strange dreams;
All of my thoughts rubbed raw,
a heartfelt wish refined;
I’m left in agony
I wake, they stay behind.
There are many types,
of poisons, like poison ivy,
hemlock, sumac, we also
have belladonna, and arsenic.
I am not poison, neither
have venom, nor a virus…
Why have I not, heard from
you for such a long time…
Did I say something,
that you didn’t like?
You can call or you come
over whenever you want…
I am not toxic, nor am
I venomous, nor do
I have a virus...
I am not poisonous…
By Sandra L. Hoban
©2004