Short Sweated Poems
Short Sweated Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Sweated by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Sweated by length and keyword.
Sun bled heavy eyelids
close in mid day glow
bee braises by
dogs snuffle near
cloud clumsy
wind simpers
breathing sweated air
no care
Feverish sweated winter season
Hot cold plugged up runny nose
Body aches foggy head throb thoughts
Robbing hours into days
Feeling under the weather
I, in height, so proud
She, addressing I, me, siezed
Clamped, sweated in heated join
Amidst silken sheets hungering
Thralls call welcoming all
These demimondaines, these Follies, on their Parisian stage
Frequently exciting in titillation to naked bare they
Encouraging heckles in erupt amidst sweated brows
Glimpse an empire in sweated palm burdened with pain centuries old;
Horrors and stalagmites hang in beautiful tragedy Gods have told:
Within soil surrounding bluest calm, such memories you hold.
been a long road
getting to the goal
they were blacks and white
sood up to the fight
for our rights
now we're at the top
we sweated a lot
to reach this love fountain
lets call it the
FREEDOM MOUNTAIN
She
Craved
For the beast.
Amidst his lair
In candle surround,
Ripped white linen clings
As their sweated bodies writhe.
In unification, his seed
Shall spawn the beginning of the dark.
Whilst his translucent shadows walk earths light.
"Go jogging, eat healthy!” You've often been told.
And so in a sports club with hope you enrolled.
You 'veganed'. You sweated.
Great gains you have netted.
But your foe the mirror insists: “You're still old.”
he whispers incessantly
i know your lies
black slick oil of your wants
you better keep me in here
or i will sell you out
words that bend and break you
atop hills i will shout
i create
fears that scrawl you
from a sweated fever
our screams so alike
We do it for money
One day at a time, till we are 65
Rewarded with a paycheck
Killing ourselves doing It all of our lives
If we are lucky we love what we do
Nothing to show if we don’t do it
Green is all we have to show for years of our lives sweated away
Form:
She
Craved
For the beast.
Amidst his lair
In candle surround,
Ripped white linen clings
As their sweated bodies writhe.
In unification, his seed
Shall spawn the beginning of the dark.
Whilst his translucent shadows walk earths light.
.
Finger tips gently
caress sensitive skin
reddened with tears.
Declarations spoken
freely to assuage the
drum beats of the heart.
Lips sweeping across
the sweated brow
refreshing timid voices.
Limbs gracefully entwined
clinging with fondness
to the center of life.
It was a passionate love thrill,
that gave an ecstasy to their fill.
their impulse of love played a game,
with all doors shut, to douse the flame.
their warm bodies sweated and hissed,
on each other's lips, as they had kissed.
a pile of their garments, on one side,
it was a passion of love, at its high tide
Hot was the room that she sweated a lot,
as the maid tired,
ironing
white shirts
for
her
master
who wanted
to be dandy
when he toyed with the ladies at the ball.
17 November 2020
Double Tetractys 6 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Eve Roper
Picture No 2
Placed 1
Hey, I am feeling
Yes feeling little
Grumpy bumpy
Bumpy-bumpy.
I am sounding
Silly very silly
In this heated
Valley sweated.
Timid horns
On my head
Blowing headlights
Grooming helmets.
This is weird
I am a humming bird
Sounding nasty grumpy
bumpy-bumpy-bumpy.
Rohan Dhabade
Cleaning ash at Two Twenty One B
Sweated my friend Sherlock Holmes and me.
Him: “The game is afoot”
His face covered in soot
We dashed off after Moriarty!
Just a crime scene, just another night
Though Scotland Yarders laughed at our sight
Done being a joke’s butt
Holmes loudly asked what’s what?
“A black face, but you love powder white!”
January 30, 2019
The tiny box of three
Quiet in inconsequence
Cowers to bored night
Theory picket fence
Two fly ice
Chosen expertise and calm
Distress the daily grind
Confused in sweated palm
The faithful forty-nine
Hope and safety fed
Now speak unwitting blank
In bitter contact red
The suffering alive
Peak through bewildered eye
Barred to understand
Such loss in seconds Five
what can you do
you've tried it all
given it your
best shot
sweated, strained and drained
you say
when all else fails
read the instructions
but where are they
that they are in
strange languages
or nowhere to
be found
I'm tired of tripping
over my own shadow
ah - Die Heilige Schrift
why didn't you say
or point me in the right direction
all I ever need to know
is written in the bible
the holy word of God
Silked and velvet linings, sweet and sweated dew,
of pink lining coating pettals flattery in mist of dew.
Blooming of this rosie blossom, uplifting head in sky,
wondering and drifting- water of mist splatters, she cries.
Alone in the mire, befriended with her stones and pot,
and wind be thrashing- roaring hit her velvet in one shot.
Flattery flower! Flushed of pink desires,
perished, alas, alone in the wetted mire.
Parents raise their young
In efferent flavor of
The new sunrise.
But as the great star sets,
We become beasts that hunt
For nothing less than
Suppression.
Medallions are too effervescent
For this ridiculous perversion.
I stand center stage un-claiming
A sweated brow now.
To anticipate silver is to
Masturbate an antithesis of meaning.
This proposal disturbs my silence
And I refuse in a tantrum—revocation.
The scorching sun was laughing
Blisters of my feet were crying
My heart sweated with fear
By my side was no one dear
Tears in my eyes were stout
I could not find my way out
I was lost in the dry desert
Emotions poured out of my heart
I kept wandering like a bee
Then suddenly that light hit me
I stepped forward unto its core
It emanated more and more
I strived to reach its source
I hastened like a restless horse
And I lost myself to a new force...
With sweated forehead
& body
I stand alone
in the yard
feeling the hot air
It's dark
no brazen rays of
setting sun
I see the birds
hurrying back
under the heavy sky
There comes...
The first rain of Monsoon
Little rain drops
Little strikes of lightning above
The smell like no other
Fresh wet soil
Little drops,
now fast rain
Lightning...
Trees, bushes
plants & grass
We all waited long
to feel the Rain
The First one in Monsoon...
Small little children running together.
Playing a game with one another.
Little feet getting wet so what shall we do?
Throw a penny here there is a penny there.
Run quickly you might grab it don’t let it go.
A sweated figure arises holding heavy objects.
This will last at least one day.
A small kid sitting on the floor.
A hand closed so tight looking up above.
A hope for the future.
Drained eyes that ran out of water.
Mum I need to sleep don’t wake me up yet.
Form:
The road sweepers
Giggled happily
While collecting and carrying rubbish
With a one wheel cart
The construction workers
Sweated heavily
While collecting and carrying bricks
With a one wheel cart
As children
We played secretly
With the one wheel cart
Carrying inside a little girl as a bride
And the cart rolled and rolled
Until it disappeared from our eyes
Together with our child brides
Maybe with only some heartbroken memories left
To this progressive world
February should be cold,
Not sixty-five degrees.
I sweated in my jacket when
In past years I would freeze.
I shouldn’t be complaining
For the temperatures will drop,
But all this fluctuation’s crazy –
Will it ever stop?
Last week I dressed in layers;
Today just one sufficed.
In two days’ time the puddles
And the roads will all be iced.
I miss the times when calendars
Could pretty much predict
The weather, which would match the clothes
The night before I’d picked.