Short Syringe Poems
Short Syringe Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Syringe by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Syringe by length and keyword.
She loved the feeling of the singe,
As she further pushed in the syringe.
(Note: This is about no one. Just a cool rhyme and dark topic.)
With lethal liquid in the syringe
As he approached his aged, mangy dog
Lying still n’ waiting summons, it wagged its tail
Vaccines are all carefully made
To fight what should make us afraid
Some hate the syringe
And now they should cringe
As hosts the bad germs could invade
We're all tinged by whole dull whinge binge
Cringe impinged by that losing cull twinge
Singed fans on fringe mull know does hinge
On our soul & sole syringe of flaming ginge
This does not hurt much the lying dentist said
As he brought the nine-inch syringe close to my head
I refused to open my mouth for a week and a day
The dental office billed me for every hour anyway
Twinge of Revenge
There are those who thought they felt a twinge;
Realized what they really wanted was revenge;
Many chatters;
Nothing matters;
To wash away we sure need another syringe.
Jim Horn
A drug dealer, some wasted cash, a plastic bag,
a lighter, a glass tube, some foil, a syringe,
a glass pipe, toxic crystals, dilated eyes,
endorphins, paranoia, addiction,
a pandemic, Crystal Death; harsh poison!
I tend to cringe at the syringe
Aimed at my throbbing veins
Oh, this pain to be avenged!
Or until the dosage wanes...
Morphine screams in dopesick dreams,
Tears my nerves to splitting seams
And so the dope doth rob my hope-
Who, now, shall intervene?
Drowning in self degradation
Deliberate affliction is exacerbating
Crystalline facade dulling senses
Normalcy, forgetting our consensus
Score, decennary years within
point, swirling under skin
Finality, deaths creeping in
Exodus, my last syringe
It rains own the fringe
doon the barrel of a syringe
bit doesnae impinge
own a generation raised
own intangible dreams
Promises made an broken
some real and others unspoken
live's wir left Floatin
own a truculent an barren
landscape of limited means
S creaming infant.
P iercing cry.
I nsistant, persistent.
T ry the soother.
T ie the ligature.
H old the syringe.
E nd the craving.
D on't you see?
U terine hits are
M issed by baby
M anaging cold turkey?
Y our little junkie.
09/04/16
Number 3 Silent 1
King, fear of succession
Bishop, fear of the devil
Government, fear of a coup
Soldier, fear of bullets
Student, fear of failure
Patient, fear of syringe
Sailor, fear of drowning
Wife, fear of co-wife
Athlete, fear of defeat
Scholar, fear of criticism
Criminal, fear of arrest
He gave birth to five children
Each one enjoys being rough
None enjoys being humble
Fire lives leaking bottom of saucepans
Knife spends time cutting flesh of beasts
Shoe prefers hurting customers with big feet
Syringe loves piercing bottoms of patients
Rust enjoys destroying steel goods
Run run
I hear steps gaining
Asphalt and gravel rips my bare blackened soles
The air burns like bourbon
I draw in deeper
No pain
No feeling
Fear is my anesthetic
Just run
If I fall I wonder
What will mark me
A Bent beer can
An infected syringe
Maybey a card board box
Run don't fall
Form:
Let me die from its rage
I am no Lab rat which finds jolly from the syringe
I am also human, I see no colour lest it's red...
For we all drip blood when hurt. Bring back my sanity
Liberate me from this syndrome, slash global cooperation
Playing us like a solitaire, African mental manipulation
In the phlebotomy room,
there came a woman
And a man
And their lad
Inquiring, queuing
‘My blood, I give to you;
draw and draw freely,
I have no qualms’
The lad started,
Responding, boasting
‘Yes, you can draw
by every means you choose
save with this needle!’
The lad protested,
Sobbing, struggling
Who would have thought?
This is the worst…
I’m too innocent
Just want to do burst.
Mincing in streets
With faceless people
I felt their eyes
Like I get their attention.
A sudden sting
Stabbed at my back
My eyes are swirling
Turning to black.
Found a syringe
With a deadly note
Welcome Honey
To HIV World.
The watchful smile withers away,
His abandoned post welcomes all to stray,
Repressed skeletons wade through plagued by a horrific cringe,
So ink filled by an emotional syringe,
Dispenses color across this stale page,
Extinguishing this manifesting rage,
Reorganizing my closet once more,
Mending the pieces of my shattered core.
Deathly afraid of needles
Barbie began to whine and wheedle
Aw, Doc, before you plunge in that syringe
Listen to this, try not to cringe
Studies show that needle-induced trauma
afflicts 98% of birthing mommas...
But Doc went ahead, stuck in that sharp pole
Bwa-ha-ha ~ another win for population control
Gift a wash basin wrappèd in foil
A wish unheard for it was and diapers soiled
stenciled pencil on scetchpads waning lips
Of full moons curse and syringe tips
On a heart of wanting kids no more
And eyes cried dry and cold and red as soul-sores
On lips cursed for unwanted stranger to come
And in stead of gladness only sorrow was won
I build myself
poet, in the lightning
of sun that leaves
from the sky,
in the dance of
belly of the moon
between clouds
unstable...
I deconstruct myself
poet, in the smell
of death of
deep dagger
tearing
life...
in satiety
vampire in
tip of the syringe...
in the riotous river
who runs me
inside when
I am without
canoe...!
Hearts shattering
Im painfully trying to let go.
I miss you so much
but i still hold my grudge.
I want to forgive you
but you hurt me so bad.
dont know if i can forget the pain
but in my heart you'll always remain.
The memories run through my veins
like a syringe of broken promises.
dont know what happens next
have all these emotional wrecks.
'Poetry' pinged me
I shiver and cringe
I know what she wants
With her probing syringe
To prod me with metaphor
Simile and eloquent imagery
Line, foot, iambic pentameter
Assonance, consonance
trochaic hexameter
But I'll have none of it
Cogito, ergo sum!
Here a bit of free verse
There a dash of rhyme
~ May 'Poetry' fume
The needle and syringe,
all mankind waits to taste the sweet of ecstasy.
A way out, an open door,
the alchemist sprawls on the dirty floor.
His experiment sponsored by greed incorporated,
just another delusional form of chloroform.
With salty solutions, making him thirstier still,
the alchemist dies on humanities floor,
waiting for love and nothing more.
Belmont wallows in westering
twilight, sheep graze in cold
pastures, hares scamper,
ignoring a circling hawk.
Blackpool's urban sprawl crawls off
up to the scarred horizon, the Tower
pricks the heavens like a syringe,
spilling the blood-red sun.
Evening falls, I'm all alone
and free to stare,
a wondrous, star-flecked firmament
in phosphorescent flare!