Short Trouser Poems
Short Trouser Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Trouser by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Trouser by length and keyword.
now,
(my) collection of poems
library
on the bookshelf
coming out
in backpack bag
at the coffee shop
into back trouser pocket,
I'm going to meet you.
A whale on the beach,
A figure of speech,
A trouser seat snagged on a fence.
A bird in the hand,
A castle of sand,
A riddle that doesn't make sense
Form:
There once was a king cobra called Lance,
Who heard music and went in a trance.
People thought he was asleep,
As his thoughts were so deep.
Then he reared up and lunged for their pants.
Jack Horne for Dr Ram's Music and Meditation
the press of the crowd
reset trouser creases
glad-handing, back slaps
he almost kissed a baby!
compared to a county fair
guernsey cows, who cares…
cloth diapers attack the nose
NYC’s homeless, anything goes
he was hanging from the charcoal rafters
doing push-ups thinking cap dangling loosely
by his side like a detached trouser stripe
time for emotions and mindful assonance
for when reason fails feelings surpass
the limbo of a lost soul yet to be found
I've got to pee so badly I can
Taste it backing up in my throat
I cannot hold it a long, long time; I'm
Going to empty it down my
Trouser legs and into my shoes
My bladder will otherwise rupture
And fill my guts with urine
That can't be healthy; I'd probably die.
I think I’ll stomp on you
Crush you, you worthless weed
Fools include you in a bouquet
Recipients look the other way
Oh, drat, my trouser cuff is yellow
The launderess will bellow
Greasy stains take time to fade
~ Reputations rarely remade
I fell asleep on the bench
And let out a fart with such a stench
Blew a hole in my trouser
And smelt of garlic and Gouda
I had to wake up and retch
So off I went home to sleep
But the sleep was not all that deep
Due to the previous surprise
That watered my eyes
I lay there instead counting sheep.
The Ding-a-ling
An innocent fellow named Bob
never knew joy came from a knob
till the time that his grew
when he kissed sexy Sue
and he felt his trouser snake throb!
April 27, 2017
Inspired by the Limerick Contest of Jan Allison
(Watch the funny video, one of my favorite novelty
songs from the '70's)
I'm hoping to be teacher's pet
By reciting my alphabet
My teacher said to me,
"Jimmy you missed out P"
I'm crying and very upset!
My teacher, her name is Miss Clegg
Said Jimmy, "Tell me, I won't beg"
Where is the missing P
I said, "Miss, can't you see
It's running down my trouser leg!"
I knew my Halloween candy he ate,
my dear sweet brother, him I’d never hate.
His fancy candy trouser
I’d hide to serve as teaser,
my aim I’d achieve to see him irate.
October 21, 2019
Syllable count : 10/10/7/7/10
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Contest : If I Were Your Brother
Sponsor : Bobby May
Matt gifted her chocs and a flower
Without joy after many an hour
Rebuffed trouser lump
Not even dry hump
So ended the night with cold shower
----------------------------------
9-9-5-5-9 (howmanysyllables.com)
(C) John C Michaels, May 2017
(Lots of serious poems written recently, so time to lighten the mood!)
He had a dream about the draws ,
Some friends believe there are no flaws ,
To nail it big they thought,
But it all came to not,
As tickets fail ;he runs and craws .
He speeds out of town to save his face ,
His trouser falls from waist for it lacks lace ,
Makes kids to laugh to this scene,
This is painful like a pin ,
As he tries to hide to erase this case .
4-29-2017
She ate the cake and had it too
Hide your face Sarah peekaboo
The cake had a rotten egg
Fell on baker's trouser leg
The baker made much of his shoe
Today's Limerick 21 November 2014/Limerick/ Copyright (c) Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
Whey faced and ashen
Trouser leg rolled up
Jagged shinbone jutting
With a ragged grin.
Words tumbling
From a mouth
Shocked and numb
Sitting stiffbacked
In the dentist's window
Facing the street
Two women busy
Mothering the casualty
Until the ambulance.
Outside unrelenting
Lay the pavement
On a freezing Friday
Ice glinting coldly
And unconcerned.
Inside an old soldier
Never before
Brought low in battle.
You can’t hold your breath and say see you later
So as they got out they stayed silent
When I let one loose in the elevator
And it was both silent and violent
The chocolates are melting, the flowers are wilting
From my trouser pockets there’s steam
And that’s why I prayed that the lady who’d stayed
Was always that odd shade of green
1 August 2021
Contest: When I Let One Loose In The Elevator
Sponsor: Charles Messina
Infernal heat
To suffer yes infernal heat,
To burn the fork out of your trouser seat,
submerged in loves tales of deceit,
when tender-loin arouses,
to burn with fires taste of lust,
to strap it down to stop its thrust,
to feel like it might surely bust,
unless the flame she douses,
to pander to this manly urge,
to feel the blood the rising, surge,
could be my fetal fatal final dirge,
from coming, passion flowers…
Don Johnson
A neighbor I have
a cruel tiger of life he is
every skirt is an ice-cream
a trouser he sees is a toad
models of car creep to his homestead
hooting, “I am here, buy me, buy me”
in the bank all types of currency
scream for space in his pocket
yet next door, in the streets
flies scramble over the faces
of humans sub-human in life
garbage bins suffer pains
of the finger prints of the unfortunate
who would have been aborted not born!
The bunny came and hid the eggs
since he’s mammal the question begs
where did they come from?
did he buy lump sum?
wonder what he’d do with frog legs?
What’s with the chicks following him?
maybe they’re there on a wild whim
difference in age?
large, I’d wage
but I am not a judge of them.
Then there is the most obvious question
if Easter Bunny is male, concession,
how could he lay an egg
down his long trouser leg?
I think I need a therapy session.
In my jacket pocket
I once found a banknote
Completely forgotten
In my trouser pocket
I once found a banknote
Washed to extinction
I said I didn’t need it
The banknote discretely placed
In my packpocket
Walking down main street
I once found a banknote
Blowing softly in the wind
I remember my first payday
Banknotes and coins in a paper bag
Placed into my jacket pocket
Today I found a face mask
Same colour as a serious banknote
In my jacket pocket
I'll always remember Granpa Shreeve
at Eaton Road,where he+Gran dwelt,
a wide thick trouser buckled belt
no collar,braces+rolled-up shirt sleeve
He kept hens at the bottom of his patch
his soldier's back now bent to stoop,
collecting eggs from his home-coop,
each day letting them out to root+scratch
Organically grown,fed as range free
a pullet killed as a Christmas treat
each day a fresh egg for dinner or tea
Old-fashioned,a bit of a tartar,
far-off days..Gran was his domestic martyr