Short Scorning Poems
Short Scorning Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Scorning by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Scorning by length and keyword.
a venerable morning
scorning
the absence
of destiny
all for free
for naught
is me
abstaining
politely
from this
race of man
for all
to see
Walking around my parent's house in the morning
With a bed hair that is breaking down
My mother is in the kitchen scorning
Before I knew it I was wearing a gown
I forgive you
for scorning me
I forgive you
for hating me
I forgive you
for disowning me
I forgive you
for forgetting me
I forgive you
for hurting me
I forgive you,
as I have forgiven
myself
Trump Is Adorning Horn Haiku
Let Poem be warning
Trump is adorning himself
With things we should be scorning;
Have nice day and good morning
To you and don't forget to be forlorning.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
I stumbled through each morning,
it was all about today
Dissolute and scorning,
of all that passed away
Wandering and faint of heart,
old promises unsworn
Living once then living twice
—the moment was reborn
(Dreamsleep: June, 2021)
love
devout heartfelt
doting nurturing sharing
fervor passion nastiness unpleasantness
blaming scorning hurting
abhorrent flagrant
hate
(Diamante)
06,08,2019
Sparkling Diamonds Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Atrocious sights ....
Ruptured INNER GLASS
Filled eyes with tears.
Nature’s cry….
Snow beads started wetting cheeks.
Clouds of scorning started
Rising from within ……to grapple with,
I tried to float on my own goodness.
Then little warmth started crawling
Between frozen thoughts.
Then it melted away…
I love you in the morning
I love you in the night
I love you without scorning
I love you with my might
Save your kisses just for me
Save your caresses too
Save your song of what will be
Save your words of love so true
Say you’ll be my Valentine
Say you’ll be mine forever
Say you’ll love me for all time
Say you’ll leave me never
A-mid all the scorning,
I-t's a challenge of faith;
D-espite the dismay and disgust,
A-im to be firm and great.
R-ough sailing in the ocean
A-ims to strengthen you;
P-ressure of criticism
A-llows your mind to make it through.
C-ling to the pillar of truth,
O-n May twentieth morning;
N-ever yield nor give up, amid all the scorning.
J-udge not your fellow man,
O-r you will suffer the torment;
A-lmighty God will bring
N-othing but just judgment.
I-nstead of scorning others,
M-ake it a friendly talk;
P-ure heart sincerely says
R-ight words on a wicked walk.
O-ffensive words of mind
S-imply come from empty can;
O-n the first morn of June, judge not your fellow man.
Decision-making often is quite daunting.
Uncertainty pervades my thoughts this morning.
Two worthy causes prove persistent—haunting
my fevered mind. The one will I be scorning,
for now, is housework. Rhymes, I will be penning.
Preferring words to cleansers is not sinning!
April 28, 2023
May 1, 2023, placed 8th in Brian Strands contest 1212
November came in downright quiet
Scorning seasons who bring a riot
Thanksgiving would come fast,
Scrumptiousness at long last,
Warranting you’d go on a diet
Sun shining bright in sweet November
Causing souls to surely remember,
Thanksgiving brings delights,
Sweetness in tiny bites,
Bellies eager to meet December
Snow Job by Santos With Lying Long Nose
has job when it snows
Santos has long nose that grows
in dark also glows
what we do propose
stop Santos who has long nose
each lie grows and grows
Santos anointed
after being appointed
were disappointed
storming and storming
guided by global warning
Santos is scorning
a picture he paints
of members going to All Saints
following restraints
Friday
Why pray
Thirteenth
Heard scream
Warning
Scorning
Drug use
Smug youths
Jason
Lays in
Waiting
Baiting
Silent
Violent
Slasher
Catch her
Smash in
Slash skin
Alice
Callous
Voorhees
Your seized
Fight back
Knife hack
Behead
Sheer dread
It’s dead
Wrists bled
Weary
Teary
Night mare
Fight scared
Sequel
Lethal.
By
David Kavanagh
Tornado alley is a place to visit if you must
go there with conscious caution
look out for nails of rust
The alley's fraught with winds that fiercly circle with no warning
Look left and right. Look out, that's right!
Who know's what'll be left in the morning
This place is quite forboding
Mother nature does her scorning
It's quite clear to me; staying clear is the key to surviving when it is pouring!
I like four o'clock in the morning
'cause I don't have to deal with peops scorning.
I like seven-thirty, too,
Cause that's when I getta do what I want to.
The afternoon's challenging
I'm crankier then, but often things
Spark me so much that I stay
engaged.
Honestly, I can say
that my favorite time of day
is when I hear a namaste
sincerely.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
oopsy
This one's by me Nancy Jones
nette, for the contest "In 24 Hours"
Good morning, good morning,
I'm giving no scorning,
But just for the record
Let this be a warning.
I'm through with the hatred.
I'm through with the pain.
I'm through with the comments
That drive me insane,
I've had it with lying.
I've had it with greed.
I've had it with planting
An unholy seed.
Then I packaged it all,
Threw it high on the shelf,
As I looked in the mirror
And spoke to myself.
Now that I've no money,
You said I'm a monkey,
You now think it's funny,
But it's no way funky.
You said I'm a donkey,
That's no longer swankie,
'Cos you're now a bunny,
Im no longer hunny.
But when I had money,
I was then a honey,
We went on journeys,
Needing no attorneys.
You left without warning,
I now cry each morning
I'm now good for scorning,
With my heart now mourning.
Suzy Baker was genuine white trash
Scorning fiercely, her teeth ready to flash.
Fending her homemade trailer park jungle
Dodging her dark and imminent funeral!
Lucy Walker was a pretty lady
Smiling friendly her lips always ready,
Living quiet in lovely suburbia
Meeting non-whites with xenophobia.
Why did the potter create them this way?
Was it because there were two types of clay?
One forged as a Cistern the next as an Urn
And exactly whom should this mess concern?
Half Alpaca, it spits if I dare kiss Cathy's ruby lips.
It plants a jacked-up rhubarb stalk,
a stiff stalking walk
if I dare roan hands over
my lovers compliance.
Cathy’s cat is much loved by itself
and also by the silky paws of its owner.
I think it may be transforming into a Burmese python
or something more slinky, sneaky, and lower.
As for I, it shows its one scorning pink eye
as it struts away
tail up, exposing a cool distain
as arrogantly possessive as any ‘fork you’ flag.