Short Semi Poems
Short Semi Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Semi by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Semi by length and keyword.
Umtiti's header
Les Bleus to World Cup Final...
France on a hot streak
Bastion of confidence
Second trophy in their sights
Heartbreak for England
Three Lions fight to the end-
Belgium play-off next.
Cinderella Croatia
Blazers' first World Cup Final
Tristesse fell in love with a Duke
The Duke thought their love was a fluke
But tonight at ten
All over again
They both fall in love with a spook!
Conundrums heard once too often
pale, wither, turn humdrum
~ 'abc' gum
_________________________
'abc?' C'mon guys:
'already been chewed'
Grandpa and grandma formed a senior gang.
They dressed to kill with matching shirts that hang.
Logo; Old As Hell Angels.
Three heavenly archangels,
Pit stop had to make, "A Semi," they sang.
A semi usually refers to a very long truck
But in the land of hooha, it means no such luck
The short end of the stick
For Richard or Dick
But some are unfortunate and that really sucks
Earth, air, fire and water together
transmutation births a new child.
Smoldering newborn appears;
this precious miracle,
soon to be revealed
and worn around
someone’s neck;
Turquoise
dreams.
Earth, air, fire and water together;
Transmutation births a new child.
Smoldering newborn appears;
This precious miracle,
Soon to be revealed
And worn around
Someone’s neck,
Turquoise
Dreams.
He deserved, but never served
As a squid just like his dad
Well preserved, but fragile nerved
All emotions were unclad
Anxiously, he set to sea
Needing moxy really bad
Waves of three, his soul set free
Now ever a salty lad
Drifting, my excellence
Blonde air-line.
Comme ce comme sais.
Bungalow Bang
Leave my space. Richard Gere in my car.
Space-Fraud
Sickening Mercedes Benz
Woah- woah. That is.
Plastic Coke
Metal Cork. Colour the Heinz.
Lovely 1980 arrives
Driving smoothly
Down the road
Peaceful and free
Nowhere to go
To my right I see
I semi coming closer
No signal if you please
And over he goes
Right in front of me
Just inches away
I steam up senselessly
I burn inside, no way
Did he just do that
Oh, I’m so ticked off
Headphones on and volume all the way up. She uses music to escape the world. The beat of the music is the beat of her heart. The rhythm is loud and disorganized. All of her feelings harmonize semi-perfectly to form a dismantled melody. She wraps herself around the lyrics and she becomes the song. Only problem is... no one is listening.
sweet stain of her
against the soul
a sky strong pollen...
the purest gold-
a caress of satin,
tasting sugar seeds
for one flaming moment
we often bleed-
whorled moonlight
mangled sheets
(Hills of hell
valleys of ecstasy)
will
hearts soar with the sun
or drift away...
will they dance together
or simple walk...walk away
Semi - Biographical Limerick
There sat an old guy on the stoop
Who considered his poetry poop
He tossed it aside
Then attempted to hide
Now here he is writing on Soup
Inspired by Tim Smith’s Limerick, “The Hot Mom and The Pool Boy”
and a “poopy” comment Jan Allison left on one of mine. : )
Semi = I don’t really have a stoop. : )
When England play semi finals they tend to draw,
losing on penalties to teams who score more,
someone will miss one of that we are sure,
repeating the fate of the England before,
The tale of the shoot out we've had to endure,
in extra time last night Harry Kane didn't score,
but the rebound he did and the nation did roar,
missing but winning, ironic galore
the stubborn semi stood on his head
you cannot make me go, he said to Ed
Ed was angry now, a trucker who never swore
You are a piece of work, metal scrap and more!
the town came to see the semi and gave support
he was just protesting his wages, said Uncle Mort
He has been on his head for sixteen weeks now, of course.
Ed finally left, riding away on a sad looking horse.
“Do you ever,” she asked,
“write a poem 'bout someone that
you wouldn't show 'em?”
I had to think on that one.
“Not really,” I finally answered.
Her gaze begged for more.
“My poetry's true
while the venom I spew
tends towards the prosaic
and souls sympathetic
to my in-the-moment
human condition.
I'm lucky like that,
havin' snake handlers in my life.”
“When's the last time you danced
on a rainbow?” she asked.
the dreamghost
repeated motions endlessly
tasks never completed
and I am
too much and not enough
right about not quite
while others gossip
at a table
the wages of labor
the weight of our lives
headstones bearing histories
as cars on the west end pass
stories told between calls
services required
a drunken cry at midnight
mistaken as love
a long drive
over a narrow road
shimmering lakes
and a call of the woods
a poem under cover seeks
the light of expression