Short Skids Poems
Short Skids Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Skids by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Skids by length and keyword.
Betty came from Brazil,
She refused to take the pill,
She had a dozen kids,
Lived life on the skids,
Now she is over the hill.
Night train skids off tracks;
it crashes into shacks...
no easy escape.
It's nightmare or dream?
All passengers scream...
train plunges into lake.
Integrity is on the skids
When Trump berates us for his fibs
We think he should pay
By reading each day
Peter and The Wolf to school kids!
Skids McDaw demanded to have a beard
a desire that some thought weird.
It was ugly, scary
and made people wary
of creatures it hid that they feared.
Poor Mrs. Newton had two kids.
One found gravity. He was bright -
while little Fig hit the skids
and was eaten in one bite -
different as black and white.
In Segovia
the residents are jovial
Unlike in Madrid
where they've hit the skids
July 22, 2019
H W Longfellow Inspired Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
I’m sure she would have preferred dogs to either of our kids
And I told her so when our marriage hit the skids
She got a decent lawyer, a legal plan to hatch
So now she lives there with our children, Trixiebell and Patch
This verse may be inane,
Male versus female brain,
Women cook food, wash skids, and do bins,
Men focus on their own dick things,
Football, *****, beer and pies,
Anything higher is a surprise!
Then they head off to sleep,
Some males do not keep!
Promises shift like
windblown sand skids over the truth
[omission doesn’t count?]
unspoken untruths rearrange rippled dunes,
chafe cheeks, bloody chins.
A place is saved for you, oh thief of honor,
at the end of a long line
of perjurers.
You are in just company.
Good morning to all our school bus operators,
watch out for bikers, pedestrians and demonstrators;
the weather man is predicting rain, so watch the kids,
drive slower, and avoid quick stops, and sudden skids.
Besides all that have a wonderful day and smile;
because we need you and your job is worthwhile.
'Tis said that William Claude Dukenfield was fond of his rum.
A healthy nip morning, noon and night was his rule of thumb!
He was better known as W. C. Fields who was always on the skids,
And despised nearly everything and everyone including innocent kids!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
I'm underrated
and I'm outdated
a little scarred
but not disbarred
just living my life
along with my wife
we're two of a kind
never hard to find
trying to live in peace
without loosing our lease
we're just two crazy kids
who grew up from the skids
we're causing no harm
come share with our charm
come enjoy a brand new taste
eating here never a waste
A goose hydroplanes
on a strip of wet air.
Comic honk,
wings backtracking frantically.
It blunders about directionless
as if bananas
were attached to its feet.
It’s the slick chill
making this happen.
The funny thing is,
it’s not even funny,
because a goose that can skid
on an ordinary blacktop
probably won’t make it
into Spring.
Whinny and Spit
When a man’s young,
the work’s hard
but it pays well
and he can feed
the wife and kids.
Mornings he throws
crates off trucks,
and after lunch he
throws crates again.
But as he grows older,
and some say
ready to retire,
he stops
in mid-afternoon,
mounts his throne
of skids, lets
his legs drip
over the side,
tosses his head,
whinnies and spits.
Donal Mahoney
White noise echoes equally from wall to painted mural,
dancing like a whimsy wisp of width;
where waters drip and notes all slip,
sound patrols the minute holes that cause acoustic depression;
pizzicato strikes like bikes on blacktop every day,
leaving skids for little kids, loud scats scoop brats away,
with solos soaring boringly and duets dazzling dew,
it’s hard to not hear voices, different choices scream at you.
One Snowflake falls
Then follows all
Drifts blow and grow
Wallowing kids
Tomorrow skids
Next day a tow
Borrow warm hat
Sore elbows drat
Ice skating woes
Bauk Than - Than Bauk Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: charles messina
06/12/20 extended version with rhyme
Remembering the Hothouse
for our daughters
Wind skids on curves of trees,
immured in ice, seeds sleep.
Inside, I shiver.
Then, from bean fields of the mind,
coiling on propping studs of flesh
ascends the blossoming hope;
and I know that pregnant Sal,
smoothed with cocoa cream
sails snoring into birth.
Her waters warm, protect, and part:
the cargo singing in her crib
melts the chill
when wind skins bark and bones
and every other year
the chorus grows.
School was crummy. Classmates mean.
Holden Caulfield, aged sixteen
dropped out to the New York City scene.
There he wandered, Sorrow's Son,
overgrown but underdone.
Seared by girls, it wasn't fun.
Broke, disheartened, home he slid.
Sister Phoebe, a perky kid
boosted him up. She really did,
but only for a moment though.
Down the skids alas he'll go
landing in a shrink chateau.
Oh what torment must be his
who God damns yet feels. Gee whiz!
Youth is ruff. It really is.
It begins in the neurons of the brain
It ends in the stained wall most often
But pardon him for it just skids excitedly
From nowhere as a gentle serpent
Creeping slowly by the ladies' room
Now despise the grinning thespian
Mock the laughing orator
Curse the chuckling poet
Execrate the smirking vocalist and the painter as well
For they are a bunch of angelic maniacs like the rest of Adam's clan
Who strive to reach the occasional peaks in artistic modes
Now it's wet!
The driveway’s made of gravel,
Preventing slips and skids,
But really, more important,
It’s a magnet for the kids.
They pluck the rocks and toss them,
The pebbles raining down,
Then line them up, creating
Highways in a mini-town.
They scoop them up and let them
Slowly trickle through their hands
And watching them, I realize
What each Nana understands –
The simplest items can provide
Imagination’s seeds.
Some freedom under loving eyes
Is what a grandchild needs.
I am so proud to be a liberal--
Despite those who disparage the fact,
Because I support medical care for all
And help for those who have lacked.
I have sympathy for the downtrodden
Want the finest education for our kids
I welcome to America the refugees
And those who are down on the skids.
I believe in freedom and opportunity
No problem when government helps out
For we the people are the goverment
Helping each other is what it's all about.
written September 12, 2021
This mall is quite gigantic,
Filled with every type of store.
It even boasts a Ferris wheel,
Which families adore.
The food court, rife with choices,
Is right near the carousel,
Both attracting all the parents,
Beneficial clientele.
There’s a gym and, yes, a dentist!
Climbing platforms for the kids,
So it isn’t universal
That all malls are on the skids.
We just went to pass some hours
On a Sunday afternoon
Which the weather (cold and windy!)
Made seem very opportune.
I am a frozen bowl lady! A frozen bowl lady!
I will come at your call, to fritz your icies, Said Sadie.
We did not understand at all, not living in mom-at-home-times.
It’s like the Tupperware lady, said someone else, My Auntie Frimes.
You would have to live back then and see their rallies, she said.
We chanted our song up and down, at the back of each other’s head.
Went from house to house selling plastic keepers with lids.
Until women went to work and the company fell on the skids.