Short Ruck Poems
Short Ruck Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Ruck by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Ruck by length and keyword.
The All Blacks played Australian Rules
Maori men against young fools
Butt a stroke of luck
In a muddy ruck
Quite promptly diminished their tools
His eyes get bloodshot!
Fight engorges his body!
He roars and defends!
Enter his red zone
To hurt or help... be dismayed!
His attack strengthens!
He pays back double!
He avenges his soul's sake!
He cools down in days.
Where would the South Koreans be
If the USA had left 'em high and dry by '73
And can you imagine West Germans' lives
If America had cleared out by '75
But 20 years for the Afghans was just too long
Who else think the Boomers got it wrong
Written: April 23, 2025, for contest sponsored by Tania Kitchen
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Chocolate, cinnamon hug,
Steam ceramic mug
Creamy smiles of cozy love
Smoothy delivered
Sweetness from her lips
Ruck sweet kiss
Treat!
AABBA
I just won a thousand with luck
I thought I would share with the ruck
But after the bills
And a couple of thrills
I'm now in the hole, ten bucks
I think I got it right this time,
Thanks for the heads up Andrea
"Got to burn to learn"lol
Harb Holl, a hilarious puck
Grabbed some crazy crabs in the ruck
He cracked under strain
A grievous brain drain
He fell off the back of a truck
I spied them through our fence.
They sparred with knuckled fist,
a father with unruly buck
beside back door for violent ruck
that stag was bound to win.
Young eyes that saw that vile display
did not forget that horrid day,
and now know just how close
that same scene could have been.
Listen to poem:
Shadows are stiff
hard-edged,
all telling,
not fibbing
nor forgiving.
The mind's eye is blind
to the shadowy-side
we carry in ruck-sacks behind
our backs.
Shadows are brutally honest,
dark and gloomy,
sketches of self in outline,
that we would rather lose
'cause they can't be
colored in.
My poor beat up truck,
we've had quite a muck,
for when we got stuck,
you made such a ruck.
My poor beat up truck,
we went threw much,
getting hit sucked,
and had to pay such.
My poor beat up truck,
sitting all alone,
sitting there stuck,
looking like a bone.
my poor beat up truck,
cant go around,
stuck in the ground.
Now driving in a car,
just not far,
from getting My Poor Beat Up Truck.
Felled in the form and gelled in indescribable,
It was a conundrum quite unfathomable,
Some chemicals reacted on its fibres,
A reaction took place in its innards,
and laughed at scared cowards,
who had shrunk and sprung back,
as if running with their ruck sacks,
the lava spewed from the volcano,
rammed in constantly dismembering form,
all that came in its way was torn,
some truths are like lava,
they simply sear through,
make culprits hurry and attention all drew.