Short Slouch Poems
Short Slouch Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Slouch by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Slouch by length and keyword.
Lazy Daisy sat on a couch
Lazy Daisy was a slouch
All the free money
And all the free checks
Couldn’t give Daisy some self respect
Cigarette-stenched couch,
How he lays there with a slouch.
His blue-striped sweater
So warm and comfortable,
Any weather, good or bad.
"King Arthur, get off the couch...
and stand up straight. Don't slouch."
"Who asked you Guinivere -
gimme another beer",
said the legendary grouch.
BANDIT, THE CAT
I know a cat named Bandit
He's so cute you can hardly stand it
He sits on the couch
In a nonchalant slouch
Which says, it's mine, I command it
THE PENGUIN
The penguin’s no slouch, he’s a winner
By sartorial standards no sinner
He’ll emerge in a trice
From the Antarctic ice
Already dressed for dinner
a broken ankle
ouch ouch ouch ouch
on a willing worker
who is no slouch
her driving ankle
ow ow ow ow
setting her back for weeks
accident where she hit a cow
It doets
In file
Creating improv
Of government structure code
Deep in the winde to pause
The slouch is may, or you without silence
The eavesdropping behind the times
Brat cat scat pet
look at black rat
Muskrat packrat
Cool cat placemat
Coon cat d'etat
Does that true cat
... slouch hat snaw at
11/10/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr
Charlie horse in my leg
ouch ouch ouch!
stand up straight
don’t slouch, slouch, slouch
arthritis in both ankles
feels like they are broke
every step is painful
sad to finally be old folk
Today mice have nothing to fear
I'm quite comfortable sitting here
for it's my turn to slouch
and chill out on the couch
so pass the popcorn and the beer!
For picture prompt contest, sponsor Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Cat hanging off couch.
I, sitting here and do slouch.
Stomach, a fat pouch.
4/17/2021
Rhymed Senryu
A whiff of the most
extraordinary
elusive fragrance,
a titillating,
and yet, subtle smell.
Sol's caresses
linger longer,
His tactile touch,
tender and warm.
Songbirds sing,
snowmen slouch
and seeds sprout,
all signs,
point to
Spring.
Perfect posture
Your back is straight
Elegant gait
Beauty will shine
Don’t ever slouch
Align your spine
God’s own design
Classy chassis
Jan Allison
4th August 2014
Written for RIDE ON A PATHYA VA Contest Sponsored by Nette Onclaud
~Awarded 1st place~
Moody clouds gather
as ripe fruit drops from shivering branches
onto pillows of gold.
The last of the lustrous flowers,
weary from the summer show,
slouch beside the wasted seed pods of their sisters,
whilst workers head back to hives unsated.
Yet still there’s a butterfly.
They steam,
They glare,
They fume and frown,
My ideas snarl and knot.
They slouch,
Resentful to be asked.
They stare and duel,
And pout.
Then suddenly -
A random thing
Flies through the traffic jam,
A buzz of green cicada wings -
The tune splats guts
Across my screen.
on a tropical Isle
sunshine and sand with cool waters aquamarine
makes me smile
while in the sea
a crustacean that was unseen
nipped me
no slouch
I fled the scene
ouch
on a tropical Isle
a crustacean that was unseen
ouch
Sponsor Mohan Chutani.
1 / 27 / 2021.
.
Leroy
Cowboy
Rode horse
Of course
His hoss
Named Ross
Ropes steers
Slurps beers
Slouch hat
Flaunts gat
Wears boots
No suits
Eats beans
Wears jeans
Raised hell
Pell-mell
What's more
He swore
Has gal
Named Sal
To pub
For grub
They dance
Romance
They kiss
Pure bliss
Gets slopped
Fun stopped
Big brawl
(That's all)
Peeking, purple, petals, poking through the grass,
Snowdrops dangling, creamy white through an ivy mass.
Time worn stairs, foot prints with a face,
Leading to a wooden porch;
A slouch, a tilt, a timeless grace.
Date: 3/3/22
For: Bite-size Poem No. 38 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
a tip of the hat
a polite nod
a hail caesar
a handshake
a slouch
a tugging of the forelock
a proposing of a toast
a salutation sandwich
a salaam
a bow
a cheek-to-cheek contact
a kiss on the bugle
a kowtow
a wave
a voicemail
a whatsapp
a geachte heer followed by a comma
a prayer
it's all very gracious and well mannered
but for god's sake get the swatter
We're mannequins peering from a storage
bin. We slouch across from
the "No-Food" paper sign.
Its message sags to a pulp taped to the shoulders
of a glass door. Shoppers,
incoming, their shared orange
squirts juice. Our mannequin-custodial
grins bar us from the lips' sweet 'oh'.
Crowdsourcing emboldens shame, our French kisses hung
on tangy wind chimes breezes tongue.
A dusty quiver lay on my back
Its arrows clean and sharp
I wade with purpose through itchy reeds
My boots dragging in the muck
I hear you before I see you
Your laugh collapsing the virgin marsh between us
A fistful of whites and yellows
My dear whites and yellows
Ready, steady
It’s no use!
For if I lose an arrow
My quiver will lighten
And my shoulders will slouch
One slouch theory is that
thirty thorny
tin entities perhaps
from Triton (or
from Troy?) have
taken over
other tiny tory nits named Tony and o-
riented them toward a
fictional final era
of human machination
using virtual farce-sens-
ing resister dada in compunction with dig-
ital ghost industrial
simpletons.
Climbing trees is not for Bandit
On the couch he prefers to sit
With his bowl of cap nip
And sweet cola to sip
He looks cute, you have to admit
Bandit loves to watch the TV
Sometimes he sits on Julie’s knee
Bandit just loves to slouch
On the cream comfy couch
He’s such a contented pussy
Picture prompt Contest
Sponsored by Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
10-21-17
Potatoes
drink beer after beer
slouch on couches
formulating bad breath opinions
second guessing
deriding
insinuating
opinionating
whining
baby crying
except for Trump
and variable other
con artists
most
bankrupt
or poor
yet
they know what's best
do this
and don't do that
you are a fool
can you not spell they say
dyslexic millionaires
don't really care
sending poetry into space
As I sat with Edgar Allan Poe,
my heart beat like a so-and-so.
I invited him in for tea
and, as that the son-of-a-gun looked at me,
I looked at him through my filmy eye,
and asked him if he could deny
that if I was anything, I was not mad,
that my case was ironclad.
He had the disposition of a grouch,
but, as a writer, he was no slouch -
though he made it his chosen mission
to exploit me without permission.