Short Stewing Poems
Short Stewing Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Stewing by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Stewing by length and keyword.
O the stew of human progress
The feast of our enterprise
Simmered long enough now
For society to settle
The Fatheads
Have risen to the top
***
There was an old witch who was stewing
She didn't know what she was doing
To make it complete
She stirred with her feet
I think she should just stick to brewing
Watermelon, honeydew
Cantaloupe and peaches too
With Nature's nectar all imbued
~ Yet none as sweet as you
Tea steeping, coffee brewing
Glazed honey-carrots stewing
Their aromas, so inviting
~ Only you do I delight in
Life- Aye
My cherished one
set against
a sordid world
My lanes are coerced
just as my feet are formed
My life is a platter
furnished on a plaza
dicing my thoughts
stewing my ordeal
rendering my life
a treasure meal
set before a soulless world
No one listens, although ear hears
Frigid minds, so brittle
We feel not bliss, that heart endears
See how habits whittle
We don’t learn, till we burn
Stewing in pathways stern
Till ego we upturn
Wisdom glistens
No one listens
24-December-2021
Quietus
I had a goat whose name was Billy
who grazed in places that were hilly
he never complained
in sunshine or rain
and he even ate all of the lilies
But one day Billy got into the pot
and then he stumbled around like a sot
He ate all my weed
he was greedy indeed
So now he is stewing with the carrots
Spade of heart drenches our intent
More than once , we question this fate
When blazed nights consume us
Disagreements stewing
About unresolved qualms .
Rehash of doubt lingers. Silence.
We breathe in constant light’s fondness.
Hexastich It Contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud
24 May 2020
For much of my life, friends I made with ease until I grew an attitude, riding on a high horse, paternalising associates and acquaintances, pushing friends around, putting on airs they found disturbing, disgusting, despicable and demeaning...
My bad attitude so
incensed friends they chose to scram
demanding I reform.
Tingling toes
of the megabyte cavalry
callouses scraping
along private roads
Cascading matrices
on the plasma periphery
peasantry bleating
on official commands
Stewing a cauldron
a festering foment
watering nations
from acid-soaked cans
BE SAFE!
say the oracles
so buying a check
but electing the cavalry
leaves the infantry wet
joyful
enthusiastic, childlike
twirling, cartwheeling, playing
delight, cheerleader, grump, complainer
stewing, pouting, frowning
downtrodden cynical
depressed
From my component perspective
in the stewing pious chatter
does freedom of truth reflective
alter all forces that matter
without loving the reflection
while stumbling up the ladder
since we all share this collection,
ills shaking us until madder,
raging at injustice of will
amassing with that sweaty fist
any method that makes us kill
our sovereign duty to resist.
It’s up to us movers and shakers in this world
to get things done that need doing.
You and I know full well that others will sit still and wait,
for us to get the old pot stewing.
The movers and shakers are lonely at the top,
but that is their residence by choice.
It is they who get things done and make all the plans,
and the ones who aren’t afraid to raise their voice.
The sky is gloomy
The sun doesn’t shine
My heart feels moody
And not so fine
Why does it not pour
Like tears that fall?
Why does it not roar
With thunder’s call?
Anger simmers ‘neath
The darkened clouds
Salt drops form a wreath
As black mood shrouds
A storm is brewing
Within my soul
And I’m left stewing
In dungeon hole
06.16.2021
They say the world is getting warmer,
but were just stewing in our hate.
Seems pleasure cant come quick enough,
enjoyments always late.
No one seems to sit for long,
to restless just to wait.
The differences between all men,
are really not that great.
We better learn to love,
and now,
before it is to late.
As busy as we seem to be,
seems love just has to wait.
saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )
Back when pots were freshly stewing;
Hoping for a beggars feast at a place we all were viewing.
Fairytales with lovers leap a woman’s flowing hair
Flowers written for a love asking love me if you dare.
We gave our words and pledged our heart’s;
We cried for those who hid behind the hedge.
We built ourselves a special place with murals in the park;
And I will always know this place it’s a road that’s cut and marked
Machiavelli s'been stewing
teardrops in the Soup
Stooping to new lows
for SYMPATHY
stirring chickens in the coop
Seems some folks will do anything
for what they think is fame
Swiss cheese stories for glory
Lordy! Whaddah' shame!
Reminds me of two classic movies...
"Freddie Lives" and the other is
"The Crying Game"...
but this one's very unbelievable, it ain't scary,
and it's much
MUCH more lame!~
On the twig sat the little frog
hungry as a great big hog.
His eyes looked to the east
there he saw the fly, a feast.
He stuck out his tongue
the feasting had begun.
Later on the blade of grass
there was a slug at last,
his appetite was still brewing
his want of more was stewing.
Then from his wandering eye
there was swarm of flies near by.
Once again, he reached out his tongue
and the eating of the masses begun.
To any of you this happened to, get busy.
Notify PS.
There is no point in me posting~a thing!
I am in a state of distress.
Why struggle to pen at all....
When you all get false notications?
There's not one thing I can do.
But this leaves me stewing at the Soup.
I just renewed my membership, too.
To keep being part of you.
Thanks, Tom for letting me know.
Hope to hear from more of you.
Pangie xx
July 31, 2029
always abatable from
anyplace but tuscaloosa
cockamamy downstream bunny
descriptive complain brewing
mistaking birthright crisis
meaningfully turmoil tryst
unvalued unpasteurized ureteritis
stewing vaticinate dejection
deflective firm folklore
through gynecologist communications
episodic honeydew gnaw
a crisply blunted
cheeseboard doorstopper looping
merry as can
be for evermore
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 17–23, 2026)
I sit hearing the knock
The door standing shut and seeing no light
Me refusing to break the lock
Man sitting and stewing in the night.
Jesus waiting beyond the door
His voice calling out to me
Stones beating in my chest
Jesus is winning you see..
I crack the door at his knock
The stones crumbling to sand
Light is flooding my house
Man praying as he planned.
Jesus standing inside the door
My knees buckling to the floor.
Stewing o’er surprise storms?
"Crying's not for me."
Wringing peace from panic’s plea,
welcome water’s whimsey.
Let the rain soak in…
revive sapped energy
restore grass to green
relax the worry-warts.
"Raindrops keep falling on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turning red
Crying's not for me
'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining
Because I'm free. Nothing's worrying me." B J Thomas
Freshening
of the chair-wherewithal
I sit and meet
the stewing news
with hearty meat and veg
The idleness
unspoken here -
here I right
no wrongs
I just belong
to the sect
that sits upon
the court that no one hears
I write
of unimportant
matters that are detained
chained to a box
a talking box
How strange
our ancestors
would find the lies
between the perfect
teeth
of time
though linked
to an intersectional ginormous behind
5/7/2022
She had spells other witches only dreamed of doing.
Her pot was full of exotic homemade recipes she had stewing.
Her spells were legendary, her ingenuity was amazing.
Goats, cows and chickens were in her kitchen, grazing.
She calls the animals, and they come, bending to her will.
A cardinal and rooster just flew into her open windowsill.
What concoctions will she invent today? The other witches wonder.
She brings on a storm complete with lightning and thunder.
are you pho real?
there is an overwhelming consensus
i had to ask
two people had told me they hate all soups
'it's just water and soggy food.'
'slop in a bowl.'
'looks like dish water.'
what kind of reaction is this?
the varieties found online are incredible
i am stewing -
on hearing this, a colleague said to me,
'it's like your gf leaving u for another bloke
only for her to hang around your house for
a few more days.'
i said to him,
'it's not like that at all.'
MADE
of sock puppets, dunk tanks and bumper cars.
socks with holes, holes for heads
all wet, stinky in fact
picture the bumper cars
bumping, bruising
each choosing their own way
headed for you and me
out of control
nothing seems to matter
it’s all clatter
“Collateral damage,”
that’s all
no matter
towns burning
blue uniforms stewing
little ones, immovable,
staring
deck of cards, blue and red
thrown sky high
sobering thought…
God is watching
8/19/2020