Short Prepped Poems
Short Prepped Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Prepped by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Prepped by length and keyword.
the door swings open
many personalities
this kitchen i'm in
gunfighters spittoons
the prepped dolls all buttered up
frigid air humming
Properly Prepped
Failure to accept,
Especially from inept;
Do need to be prepped.
If you think it is
Bad, it usually is or
Surely soon will be.
Jim Horn
Often for sure I will have to be prepped,
When my poems others never do accept;
Took a chance;
Blow did glance;
While writing them thought I was adept.
Jim Horn
Prepped to become political fixtures
mirror practice would reflect their picture
elite hand jive
making signs
first one taught was rock paper scissors.
9-30-17
freshly prepped garden -
affection I left behind
crumbling embers
Brian Johnston
April 2,2016
Poet's Notes:
Inspired by Erasmus Bock on FaceBook's Japanese Poetry Garden Path
Trump Prepped for Being Inept
We think it happened while Trump slept;
Had appeared like he was being prepped;
Also contained,
And detained;
Could learn how to be completely inept.
Jim Horn
an artesian altar stocks
moist manna seized in vast rounds
twice arrested sights cascade
moment instills
reawakening
a sheltered reckoning breathes
no regrets prepped ascensions
~a ponder
Sea calm,
Crew slept,
Dark side,
Sea kept,
Tide raced,
Waves crept,
Crew woke,
Sails prepped,
Coiled spring,
Waves leapt,
Overboard,
Crew swept,
Left behind,
They wept.
For the sea has no respect
For the nautically inept …
Slip into your comfies to warm your mind and tummy,
fleece-lined flannel warm nirvana,
sip your tea and honey
while old movies become a panorama
of memories and wayward dreams
when youth was foolish and indiscrete
then close your eyes and sleep
prepped and ready for tonight's dream repeats.
The homeless sleep outside empty buildings
large enough to house them all
where pennies pinched cost more than you spent
measured against the rise and fall
to set your stall when others lose it
together propped and prepped was key
standing tall where ever you sit
a fallen oak is still a tree.
The Christmas lights are glowing,
Weather’s wildly snowing.
One thing I am knowing –
It’s lovely to be home.
The radiator’s hissing,
My honey’s here for kissing.
There’s nothing I am missing –
No place I’d rather roam.
The wine is poured and waiting,
The dinner prepped for plating
And I’m anticipating –
An ending for this poem.
Mouth salivates,
Body now levitates,
Heat surging in the night,
Soul prepped to take flight,
My flesh is longing to turn,
Forbidden urges to churn,
Seeking forbidden pleasure,
Demanding his measure,
Soaked so deep within,
The original deadly sin,
Kneeling to ground,
Make no sound,
I’m awaiting,
His touch.
(c)2016 PJ Bayliss
I will be your ground
Supporting you in every way
I will be the shoulder you lean on.
Even as you pray
Your dream will be my dream.
I will support your every step.
Your happiness will be my happiness.
However, your spirit must be prepped.
You will never have to worry.
My ground is solid as a rock.
It shall be your firm foundation.
And your dreams, it will unlock.
I am not certain sea
is always deep,
no-matter its depth --
As professed love is sometimes
only speech rehearsed, well prepped.
And the sun, though illustriously
shines, can be blind, victim of
self undulating light --
as all
stars, in time, blink out~ sliced from
the heavens by, the eternally appointed,
darkly shrouded, Ever-cleaving Scythe
of Night....
By the Murray
is far from
By the lake
The Murray
has its own sound
as it meanders
across gravel runs
billabongs
bends galore
tonight will be cold
so the fire is prepped
7 sheets of crumpled
newspaper, splinters of pine
dry eucalyptus leaves
twigs and small branched
neatly piled
the cod are rising
at dusk
gently taking insects
from the surface
By the lake
would be
no sound
at all
Up early that morning
getting prepped and ready.
As the time nears,
nerves fill your stomach.
Your number is called
and you step into the ring.
You are there for blood.
You give it your all.
That's all you can do.
When you win the fight
polite congrats are due.
You smile back and say
"thank you".
Inside you scream
"Haha! I win!"
When you leave the ring
you start to calm down.
After all it's just a dog show.
Form:
Its cold, its late, outside we wait.
For a balls fall and new years call.
An end years rain begins to strain
your sweet smile hun. Your Dressed for fun
not for reason. Prepped for season,
your despair shows me shoulders bare,
as I peel the warm skin from me.
Placing hide on shoulders with pride.
Leather shielding you from reeling.
Smiles back again. I sport a grin
The clock has rung new years begun.
A kiss from you starts all anew.
Flicking
Like a snake’s tongue
Out and in
Long scars
From under the loose cuffs of her long sleeves
No matter the sultry summer day
Crisscrossed up and down
The banana skin of her underarms
Raw shiny and tiny stained like tomato kisses
Smeared and left from the lips
Of her childhood Barbie
Sitting propped and prepped
Cross-legged
At a miniature set dinner table
Of delectable plastic
Fruits and cakes
Shrimp and fillet
Waiting forever for her Ken.
It's hard to find good collard greens
Where I live in New York.
You'll rarely find them hanging
Off a New York restaurant fork.
But I'm in Carolina now
So everywhere you look,
Some barbecue is being prepped
To very slowly cook.
Tonight I got to sample some
And you know what that means -
Along with my pulled pork there was
A heap of collard greens.
I savored every bite because
Tomorrow I'll be home.
The only collards there will be
Those mentioned in my poem.
Prepped to face the day
our special child prays* with glee
for blessed learning delight
of loving freedom bliss
midst victorious sign language class!
*Philippians 4:6 Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.
May 21, 2020
1st place, "WEAVING A WAYRA" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Nette Onclaud; judged on 5/22/2020
Original Title for Contest: WAYRA MONDAY