Short Tub Poems
Short Tub Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Tub by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Tub by length and keyword.
thoughts and ideas
are strange
light bulbs
that appear and
we seem to get
most of them
when we
sit in a bath tub
enter, wade in life
bathe in peaceful clawfoot tub
showers not given.
(January 19, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)
(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved
I guess you're upset, but you've cracked me up
How will you manage when needing a scrub
Still holding my own
So put down the phone
It'll cost you too much to buy a bath tub.
I guess I like laying in the bath tub,
Because it's the closest thing to a coffin in a sub.
Cold and hard like my life, but comfortable as I thrive,
Only difference is I have the option to be alive.
There were tiny clouds
in the bathroom. I could see
the glimmers from a universe
of air and bubbles,
inside my reach,
pinpricks in the
transparent air.
I dream I am so small
I can live my life
of travel and romance
on a pinprick planet
floating over a bathtub.
Sudsy sudsy little squirrely tooted in the tub
woopie woopie bubbly bubbly he is so so cuddly
Little peanut happy as can be, Tee Hee!
fluky fluky one little bubble went up his little nosey
thats why he did a little sneeze weezy,
just before he struck a pose !!!
If I should call and find you there
Just let me know if you are bare
If so, don't bother getting up
I'll just get my own damn cup
I enjoy all outdoors
But I don't need to see all yours.
Mdailey 5/26/11
This was inspired by Joe's poem about sitting in his hot tub instead of inside
working.
~~~~
Hot tub, you and I
Beneath an Anaheim sky
In God's heaven am I
Thick, turquoise robes
Tropical drinks with ice
Tonight, more than nice
Infinite souls, we
Locked for tonight is God's sky
You have my heart's key
~~~~
September 17, 2020
6am PST
My knees are up and I’m still,
and lazily reflective.
Ludovico Einaudi’s song
‘Una Matina’ is playing.
For some reason
my thoughts align and make sense
when I listen to the piano.
I am sitting in still water, listening.
Right now, somewhere else,
someone else just might be doing the same.
Sometimes,
life makes sense, too.
We ride the sea of blue,
as the wind blew.
Mounds of white grew,
it is soap not glue.
Have you meet the three men?
Bill is a writer with a pen,
John is with businessmen,
Tom likes to watch TV in his playpen.
Three men in a tub,
plus one child in for a scrub.
They belong to a club,
the bath time dub-dub.
paper coffee cup in the bath tub
perilous vessel
my tattoo, my nipples
landscape of my body
(the) humble temple
my essential truths are few
but i lay them at your feet,
my burdens into your heart
seeming smaller in that vastness
i can offer you myself
no more
but no less either
this i commit to permanence,
my permanence
my own pale ritual
Wet and warm it goes,
Water swiftly flows,
Somewhat deep,
Floating feet,
Slowly slip below.
You leave me for a spell,
My hearts races like hell,
Can’t relax,
You come back,
That bikini sure looks swell…
The mere sight of your curves,
Tests my battered nerves
Bathed in heat,
And touches sweet
Swaying, dancing, swerve…
Passion gently sung,
Your eyes forever young,
This gentle ride,
We feel inside,
I pray it’s never done.
She sinks into wetness,
releasing a long sigh,
becomes suffused
with the heat
seeping into her bones.
With eyes closed,
she's drifting -
the world outside,
with all it’s turmoil,
slowly fading.
The spider moves
along the rim,
black legs in motion.
Sensing a presence,
her eyes spring open.
A scream rends the silence.
A hasty exit -
water churning,
bathtub abandoned,
wet footprints leading out.
The spider crawls on,
oblivious.