Short Soggy Poems
Short Soggy Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Soggy by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Soggy by length and keyword.
His pants were quite dry when he got 'em
His classmates just laughed when they caught him
A wet widening stain
And it sure wasn't rain
Now it's way too easy to spot him
the rain is tapping the window tap tap taapp
the rain pating the roof pat pat ppaatt
like a gazillion violins violas & cellos
our very own orchestra,for free.
by,ehlana lingerfelt
The upright straight road is clear
That may seems strait long road to the blind mind
The soggy soul wants to stay in the cool shadow
To eat and fart! Having pipe dream to win back!
To have a good time, I see I see me.
Had a dream last night, you could say it was wet
Fell headlong in a pool while playing the clarinet
Kept playing underwater
Received much applausers
Got out, and in my pocket was some soggy cigarettes
© Jack Ellison 2015
It was easy to see who had the most eyes
Attached to her chest so abundantly sized
In this contest
She had the best
She quite easily garnered the... booby prize
Note: please click on soup's "auto punctuate" feature if you feel so moved;-)
Don't you just hate soggy bread
It falls apart in your hand
I should just use toast instead
I think you all understand
It stands up to mayo better
The crunch it makes sounds so nice
Until of course it gets wetter
Then you might need another slice
When I was fifteen I had a soggy heart
“Paint what it feels like”
So I painted my heart, dripping in sorrow
The cheap acrylic paint left their printer paper as soggy as the heart I had made
I’m twenty now, and the poeticism has vanished
I don’t feel melancholy
I feel like sh*t
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Folded edges gleam~
paper boats on rain-swollen stream,
racing past.
Like childhood's brief,
bright voyage,
soggy hulls dissolve too fast.
a related memoir vignette can be read at poetrysoup.com/short_stories/paper_boats_floating_by_13644
there is no breathing allowed
i am now dead
she is now gone
familiarity is now a pungent puke provider
there are no heartbeats allowed
i am now dead
she is now gone
normalcy is now a free bleeder on some bright carpet
there is no life allowed
i am now dead
she is now gone
change is now the cum stains that smells like left field cigarette smoke
unceasing, unstoppable
a force of nature, this rain
the sun no sooner pops out
here come the clouds and my hopes are dashed again
wretched, muddy, soggy trails
far too slippery to hike
a day that I regretted
winter’s constant rain is what I most dislike
----------
An Endecha, in quatrains of 7x:7a:7x:11a, intended to be a lament or a "sad song that locks up a moan"
Listen to poem:
The seas today were not a short, sharp chop
but were syrupy soggy soft like black treacle,
clinging to the hull like on a spoon, clutching and sticky.
Warily I sailed on, aware of the tenuous tug
and drag of deception in the compliant welcoming.
I, as an alien in the wetness of sea,
knew that the warm softness of the seas's clutch and cuddle
may belie a hidden tumult,
a change of face
on the whim
of a mere breath
of wind.