Short Pots Poems
Short Pots Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Pots by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Pots by length and keyword.
Steaming tea pots help a lot
When troubles come your way
Simply pour a cup
Rest and look up
Giving your troubles away
My pot filled with broth
Made from years of tears
Boiled over and spilled
Putting out my desire
To cry any more tears
For the carrots I need
To feel feed.
Joys of married life outweigh minor discrepancies
Such as throwing pots and pans or other irregularities
Must turn a blind eye
As harmful stuff flies by
It all part of the charm, ignore the unavoidable peculiarities
The joys of married life far outweigh any minor discrepancies
Such as throwing pots and pans or other minor irregularities
Must turn a blind eye
As dangerous stuff flies by
It all part of the charm, ignore the unavoidable peculiarities
Flower Pots
After all my alcoholic
truths I sit alone
on the porch.
they have taken my cattle,
wife and children gone;
only my old dog stays.
It knows I hate myself and
my anger over
their stupid faces
reminds me of my total
failure, yet I can
water my flowers when
it suits me
Standing beside the pots and pans,
the pretty girl was full of life
and had the look of 'far to go',
but green tee-shirt was much too tight.
Standing beside the pots and pans,
maybe she'll never escape those,
but if she's a stickler for shirt too tight,
heaven only knows.
9/28/2015
The servants obeyed Jesus,
And filled the water pots with water to the brim.
They did not know why
Or what He’d do. They did not question-
They just obeyed Him.
They must have felt very foolish
When they served it to the guests.
But the Governor of the feast declared,
“The wine they’d saved till the last,
Was the best.”
We shared coffee from special coffee pots,
On special days, in special ways
Dreaming about the future
Our dreams so clear they felt like reality
When they crashed and burned in front of me.
It wasn’t my fault and it wasn’t your fault
That reality got in the way
But I’ll never forget you as I pour tasteless coffee
From coffee pots inscribed with your name.
The only heart I had
Now breaks
As hardened clay pots
You’re frail and fragile
Bones
Protected by slipping
Skin
I shall be at my end
My nighttime closing in
The heart I have left
Blows away a sand
Left decrepit by
The only ache
I feel
The slipping of fair
Skin
Yellowed now deep
Within
Your blood runs in my arms
Breath, don’t go
I’ll never forget
Trump Pots Up Stir
Trump many pots seems up likes to stir;
Oddball as new President who did occur;
Some said;
Loser bred;
In White House saw mounting manure.
Jim Horn
Trump and Tiny Paws
Saw Trump starting to sharpen claws,
That had been attached to tiny paws,
That de did inherit;
Was a Polly Parrot;
Even an idiot never knowing any laws.
Jim Horn
stuck in dark corner
newspapers unread, fridge leaks
beets rot in high heap
•
pots and pans unwashed
waiting for spring daisy dew
slowly make pickles
•
carrots kiss wet earth
feed blackbirds watching stale crusts
breeze blow blue bubbles
•
new rain equals life
smile at illusive spaces
catch falling acorns
•
Plants in pots inside
like pets in pound
beckon for attention.
Like chicks in nest they screech and squeal
with open beaks, skyward
begging for worms and morsels in mum's beak
Plants in pots are dependents
totally reliant on you.
More mouths to feed
more wilts to water
more bugs to squash
more dead-ends to clip and prune.
Sometimes I wonder: Are they worth it?
But their wonder wins, all in,
hands down.
I can see the rainbows
They're right there
Rainbows do sort of piss me off, though, because my daughter always wants the pot of gold at the end
She doesn't know that it's actually not there
But, if you think about it, it actually is there
I can help guide her through storms and be there when her rainbows aren't visible
That's something she has to find on her own
And, it f*cking breaks me up every time I think about it
Form:
The old, cracked clay pots on the shelf
They've been there so long
I leave them there as a reminder
Life leaves deep wounds from wrongs
Some cracks are deep with crevices bold
Some so fine almost unseen
Those have been repaired hold the soul
But none can repair the genes
They are so old and unwanted now
Their shelf life ending soon
Their souls have been put through the fire
Only use is to be ground up and strewn