Short Shaven Poems
Short Shaven Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Shaven by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Shaven by length and keyword.
I was clean shaven when I
spotted a snail going by
I watched for a while
as he went half a mile
now my beard's reaching down to my thigh
Etched between two pines
shaven mountain crest
Beneath benchmarker
lined tombstones
soda stream pops
gargles are gurgled
mischievous meanders over moss
jutting chins of fresh shaven
intrusive rocks
sunlit tendrils stroking at the seams
Sirius is approaching the gate
dragging the hot and humid like bait.
Scorching dog days are back.
A violent attack!
I fear I will burn my shaven pate!
shaven crest eagles flight captivating
banners strewn flags unfurled proudly
Tribute To Freedom
Also entry for
Brian Strand's Motto -Monoku Form Contest
It love requires not colognes - nor perfumes,
It requires not make-up nor a shaven.
Luxuries nought - when hearts are light as plumes;
Most thrive most selflessly in love's haven.
So for
My mother
Here’s another
If life’s a game
Then I’m not doing well
But clean shaven
Clean shirt
Clean and sober
You can’t tell
(Excerpt from the ebook 'Mother' available on Amazon.com soon)
salutations
Oh greetings from nature's door
the forlorn sun rises high from slumber
God's eyes seeing me He spies
creation bound shaven remade born again
7/1/19
written by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019
Finely broken glass
filters through
my picture heart
from where puzzles start
inside tainted walls
or none at all
shaven and prickly too
In between
on random moons you glowed
melancholy from all and Above
spinning
spinning
spinning !!
Girls and boys
pick up your toys
Your playground
has been shut.
There’s a man out there
with greasy hair
hellish hankering
in his gut.
That’s what we thought
till Joey’s father was caught.
He was clean shaven
with neat crew cut.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
July 15, 2012
Unfortunate isn't it
That we only see a roses beauty
Once its been plucked away
Torn from it's roots
Shaven thorns
Simply there for
self preservation
Put up nicely in a bouquet
to look like the rest
But as for me,
I will kiss your thorns
I will leave you at home
You don't belong to me
Firm, full olive breast a virgin, at twenty three?
Perfect as beauty yet, her true candy
Awaiteth just below...
Purity, smooth as dreams
She beckons..
Shaven, with traces love's,, cream....
Her lips, whom glisten; parting skies; tinted
Blonde tresses curls, tossed to the side such, her joy.
Though opposed by federal court
Trump’s sport-like media report
Features flights at night
With head-shaven blight
And the hog-walked men we deport
What slave asks for anything more
Than a rave in El Salvador?
With expenses paid
In dirt they’ll get laid
While six million bucks pays our whore
the two day stubble
helps her grasp
my face in her hands
and the obvious chaos
clean shaven, i’m smooth,
hard to hold,
providing misdirection,
and appear faster than I am
i’ve slipped away before
staring into my eyes,
she sees my substance
what i’m made of, the bones
how different my structure
from my words, my actions
& i see the clouds
smiling beside
my war-fed clan
they come, wearing
some new garments
behind the flood-gates
the forlorn gates
of old niger’s maidens
clean shaven
are the elders
now clean’d of
just yesterday’s beards
elderhood is gone!
siting on mat
aweful are their looks
they see nothing
of this new new moon
coming
to the homeland
oh, niger!
Form:
shaven mountain crest
malta lava ashes cinders
erupt with vengeance
foundation of strengthening
refurbish dwelling fixture
Tribute To Hawaii
"Clean shaven memories remain
stuck in silence waiting to scream"
Voices sing out in adulation
inflections bending an ear
float me off to be
lit eye interior arranged
to be blown away
with heavenly wings
Candlelit flickers imagine
soft breeze kisses await
crisscrossed oceans and moonbeams
aired along whispered dreams
folded up neatly
cascading my way
I'm waking up
I'm calling you
you're in the shower
what to do
you're nails are painted
hair is braided
legs are shaven
what to do
this picture tells a story
of a girl
in love with you
you're on the phone
with cam and amy
telling bout your
life's so crazy
making plans
to see a movie
life's so crazy
what to do
this picture tells a story
of a girl
in love with you
It was middle noon
on the deserted street.
Nobody will come out
to greet the sun.
You will lift the fallen leaves
to soften the blow,
corrupting the morality
crouching in the shadow.
A slumber was needed
to get the head shaven.
Touching the dust,
the heat, the winds.
Dig a sinking hole
deep in the heart.
It will suck all your tears
all your salt.
Satish Verma
I used to know a poet. His slovenly disheveled poems reminded me an alcohol-prone loser’s beard, but in person he happened to be a clean-shaven, well-tailored gentleman who hasn't had a drop since Bicentennial. And sometimes it's just the other way round: aristocratic rhymes on closer examination turn into dipsomaniacs.
poets and their poems
don't resemble each other -
poets die poems don't
I love the colour of my skin,
Au naturel suave evergreen.
From head to toe, and deep within,
Each part of me, feels so serene.
Even the bristles, on my chin,
Tonsured daily, smooth shaven clean.
The only difference, with my twin,
While I am green, he's tangerine.
Hereditary, our kith and kin,
Diverse within the human gene.
8 / 13 / 2025.
trees lined up like an army
on the side of the hill,
looking beautiful and worn,
clean-shaven for Winter
and still in the cold —
under the moonlight
this is but a little hill
they take. my eyes
see this distant sight
nary a driver will see,
eyes on silent stare.
bare, leafless trees,
lined up so perfectly,
stiff their salute, finding
no footfall in the dark.
1/6/2021
The cornstalks vanished overnight
Shaven fields once flowing, green and gold
Now Dad’s evening whisker stubble
Ghost limbs of the cornfield
Flocks of nomadic Ravens
Feast on the invisible
And scowl with those empty black eyes
Impervious to man’s judgment
And I think,
There is nothing as beautiful
Than the first snow on a barren field
Shadows playing with the evening light
And dance among the vacant mounds
Not before I saw your eyes
Had I believed that such a fey
Would come to me and liquidize
My being with what they do ray
What your sight does to me
Is not something I can explain
For there's nowhere Id rather be
Other than where you do reign
If asked, I can promise heaven
For you to give me the chance
But really, a love clean-shaven
Is going to be the balance
You'll get for being considerate
Of letting me be your mate
All bareness forgiven
the razors gone dry
The excuses all shaven
no more asking why
A soul once abundant
my face starts to fill
No sentence redundant
no lines to go shrill
New destiny chosen
man’s burden unsung
The look becomes learned
masculinity sum
All chains have unshackled
a face that goes deep
A beard now awakens
—ancient voices that sleep
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2015)