Short Punching Poems
Short Punching Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Punching by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Punching by length and keyword.
Punching in the numbers
on the celestial dial tone
Eternity became toll free
—its area code my own
(Dreamsleep: November, 2020)
A Carolina Wren
jabs and weaves
hopping in and out
of a ring of sunlight,
it has pugnacity,
but the cat creeping near
does not care.
fear can be all consuming,
but when it comes to a fight,
i say its bloody war!
start punching the left n the right...
Don
thanks Russell
patrick allen davos daimo
Wanted with Avi; to have a go'
Punching agenda plain to hear
Yet no punchy reporting it is
As Is feared ' patsys only
Are valued here !
pum/mel ...... pound .….. pul-ver-ize
(left/right) (jab) (punch-down-out)
Furious George, angry adolescent
Whose fury was white-hot incandescent
He kept punching a cop
Foolish kid wouldn't stop ~
The slammer's now curbed his effervescence
Pug-nosed pugnacious Polly loved to fight
She started brawls every Saturday night
Snapping, snarling, punching, sneak pinching too
I don’t want to go to bars with her. Do you?
GRANDPA A TOY!
-Dharga Nagar Safa
Pulling,pushing,
Pretending sleep,
Pinning,punching,
Still,in sleep,
Pulling,pushing,
Grandpa in sleep,
Pinning,punching-
Grandpa a toy!
The Angry Chef
A seafood chef near the golden gate
Is constantly mean and irate
Punching the trout
Kicking carp all about
Blaming fish for their sorry fate
sometimes I feel like I am nothing but a human punching bag
everyone just tries to beat me up
hurt me
destroy me
just to see how much I can take
before I completely shatter and
break
lightning punching down,
fast, blinding, loud – blood pain
a prayer of tears
to all who have suffered violence
David Meade
Tapping and searching
Loading
Tapping, deleting
Darkness
Reset
Loading, tapping
Deleting, tapping
Punching
Escaping
Darkness
Reset
Loading
Emptiness
Darkness
Tears
Escaping
Detachment
Done
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
Our pyjamas get twisted, strangle us in spite
But as hard as we try
Punching people nearby
We wake up in the morning, say sorry for the smite
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
Your pyjamas get twisted and strangle you in spite
But as hard as you try
Punching people nearby
You wake up in the morning, apologize for the smite
punching the keyboard
with my fingertips
what am I writing?
a poem of sorts
it eases my mind
beats boredom too
poem or two
probably do
unless needed
a hobby
my passion
words from soul
on screen
I see
words
Clunk, bang, splat
The flakes fell flat
Tumbling, racing, spin around
Punching through until the ground
Soft, heavy, errant flakes fall fast
Twirling in the freezing blast
Some crashed into the window pane
Slid down and melted once again
Zero to a hundred
Smoke between the ears
An amygdala doing donuts
Simply changing gears
*punch-drunk: Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy
Punch Buggy: a game consisting of punching a person
when a VW Beetle is seen
Screaming, she slams
furious fists forward
punching powerfully
through timber.
Drops down
exhaling exhausted.
Furrows forehead,
discouraged, disappointed.
Breathes bravely,
stands strong,
moves mountains,
lives life.
March 25, 2016
Poets often pontificate
In their particular poems
By punching words into
Pre-determined form
Plying on rhyming
Placing their phrases
In perfect presentation
With proper punctuation
Perhaps to receive
A few platitudes
Possibly some praise
For its perfection
Being able to command total respect of your subconcious is allowing it to do artwork for yourself.
Channeling the desire of the mind into my fingertips is quite a bit more productive than punching walls over stupid anger that will have me feeling no better than when I began.
Punching Bag
Revile Men who gloat and brag
that wives are their punching bag.
Deplore women also, who mull
wielding Tool to "castrate the Bull!"
Husbands and Wives, alike
must unhook from Anger's spike!
For, both need each other 24/7
and, must not be parallel like 11!
25th September 2013
Blaring words without letters,
the piecing screams of silence,
her face a waterfall of tears,
anger reaching for its own throat,
looks punching through dry walls.
The roots of rage
pumping bile into dead buds...
just a bad dream, only a dream,
but why do I beat my chest,
and beg for absolution?
Stare me down,
Call me out,
Make me cry,
Make me slice!!!
You know what you do,
All the critacism u bring,
Well listion up becuase it will,
No longer work on me!!!!
I am no longer your punching bag,
Your little play thing,
I am me and me is tired of being,
Tashed and beat, now i fight back!!!!!!
Form:
Yr Stormus Nos
The Stormy Night
The Rain punching me,
Hitting me with tiny punches
Dark clouds block light
The dark wall engraved with faces of dark
Lighting flashing once,
Count the seconds
One.. Two.. Three.. Four...
Describe a thunder storm without the sense of sound
Sponser ~ Brenda Chiri
In life like Muay Thai,
We learn to keep punching,
Not to give up after we miss,
Become stronger after training.
Falling down, getting up,
Miss the punch, learn to defend.
Every pain, every sweat is growth.
The main thing is not the wins
It's not the one who never fell
But the one who gets up again and again.