Short Vent Poems
Short Vent Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Vent by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Vent by length and keyword.
I stood in awe of Cathedral art
When someone expelled a booming fart
Beneath a candle
Was Mrs. Randall
With the notorious Bro. Ken Hart
(Happy Valentine's Day, Jan!)
Was Awakened Then Tried To Vent
Had been awakened then tried to vent;
Made no difference wherever we went;
Budget brewing;
Ended up doing,
So much more money would be spent.
Jim Horn
9
On the
Radio
Calls
Like
Cats
Taped
To
The
Wall
In the vent
We breed
Resentment
(Excerpt from the ebook "Jail Poetry Vol. 1" Available !!NOW!! @ Amazon.com)
(100 poems $4.99)
Vent
I am tired of of fighting
With people who don't understand
That I need to vent
Now that I am
Tired
They tell me
That I don't work enough
That is a white lie
I work a few hours for God
That is enough for me
Today is Sunday
I will sleep in in the morning
Blades grate
chunks of cabbage
scattered on the counter like pallid moss.
Choose
a duck,
its flesh dry and red,
and seasoned,
its broken neck
rigid in the stainless noose.
It looks
so good
in the window,
even better in broth,
on my spoon,
tender
and ready to chew.
Form:
I try to get my thoughts out
I try to put it in ink
I try to let the world know
Exactly how I think
Its much harder than I thought
To share your talent and skill
I try to do it for fun
I try to do it for the thrill
Its like a back n forth argument
This pen on this paper
I'm tired of trying to explain myself
This ***** will get it later
I wanted to move steady
And thought we was ready.
If you still was my lady,
You would be having my baby.
Dang that's really crazy,
I'm still here hazy.
Wondering what you would say if you was facing me?
Wondering if you still love me
Or hate me?
Because I didn't care and got lazy.
One day maybe,
You could stop being shady,
And tell me-Mario Perez
.
VENT
Those 4 letters hold the key,
They’re the fundamental difference between you and me.
For you are not woman,
You are a man.
You try to fix things,
I throw toys out the pram.
No solution is needed for every problem that's made,
Offer an ear and listen to my mad tirade.
Then when I am done my peace it returns,
For venting is essential to all womanly concerns!
Do life make you vent. I mean, working your but off and still can barely pay your rent?
Well, when life presents events that's harder than cement and you relent because you can't make a dent.
Maybe you need to repent, as your life becomes irrelevant.
Even a life very well spent. There will be lament and discontent and it's alright to vent, just don't keep resentment.
Venom rushes toward her heart via her veins
Elle tastes her rage
Nearly choking on the poison in her mouth
Talking seems a waste of time
Sophie insists
Elle resists, but
Soon relents and
Sets to pouring it all out
In no time she feels better,
Out with the bad blood, like letting leeches suck her dry
Nothing cures an ill spirit faster than a good friendly listener
I can’t breathe
What kind of nightmare is this-
Open wound bleeding-
It’s real
Destiny’s cruel joke.
Supposed to be
Attempting to rectify
And testify –
Life is one giant Ferris wheel
One step away from disaster
Just when you think calm after the storm-
You’re hit with the news
And subtly choose-
How to master pain and rise above the truth-
But there’s nothing you can do
i want to tear my body into ribbons
and watch myself cascade down onto the floor
i cannot keep reforming myself just to fall apart again
efforts to maintain a stasis in composure are wasted on this anxiety-ridden mind
my legs are still writhing in pain
my chest hasn’t ceased its tightening
i don’t understand it
i can’t keep this up
i don’t know if i’m cut out for anything
it’s all so much right now
too much
Behind the masks
We are safe
From epidemics
Behind the masks
Thieves and robbers
Being not recognised
Are safe too
Behind the masks
Voices become indistinct
Dining becomes inconvenient
Smiling hidden
Anger has no vent
Sorrow and despair overlooked
Beauty not appreciated
Behind the masks
Just like the politicians and cheaters
Never show their real faces
But don't worry
God always read your hearts
But not your faces
Le vent danses, Le cœur dort
J'les entends chuchoter dans la nuit
Quand le vent chante, moi j'pleure
Pour tous le beau dommage d'hier
Amants perdus dans leurs rêves
Même père et la mère
Dan ma rue
Il y a seulement un cul du sac
La vie se termine ici
Vos rêves sont en dehors de la fenêtre au soleil
Mes rêves sont à l'intérieur d'une bouteille
Rouge est le vin et le sang
Pour toujours mon cauchemar est fini
Dans la terre du diable, ici
Form:
Today I'm going to lay back
And relax.
I'm tired how the world acts,
All I want to do is play some tracks.
Get lost in the lyrics and the drum slap.
Days like these I thank God for rap.
But I wish they would stop talking about racks on racks.
Because life is not about the paper you stack.
Paper is nice but it can't clean up the world's crap.
Talking about selling drugs and busting caps.
When we all know the thug life they ain't about that-Mario Perez
Hate is wasted energy
There is never too much love
I just people would learn this
Before being sent to the heaven above
There's nothing better
Than taking a chance
Knowing that you tried
Your life will be enhanced
Death is around the corner
You never know when and where
Just remember that someone loves you
You just need to tell THEM you care
My spirit runs free
To create a world of bliss
The only thing missing
Is warm hands to hold and a kiss
within my mind like stringless mimes
reside the voices of discontent
discussing in their troubled tones
the conundrum of implied intent
“I’ll say this”, and “he’ll say that”
“she’ll do thus”, and “I’ll do so”
no invites to cerebral tea
for conversations of “me with me”
for all the puppets in my head
dance to tunes I choose to play
none have the voice to boldly say
“move on, you dwell in yesterday”
©6/18/2018
for Ventriloquist Poetry Contest/Anthony Slausen
I was born and always lived
In the Surigao Strait, this stormy sea,
On the shore there are usually trees,
When there is a storm and the noise of the trees,
It's an extraordinary feeling.
I always came to the cliff in the evening
To a deserted place and shouted to the sea
That there is power, no one will hear, only the sea,
I must scream everything to the core,
If possible, on the top of my lungs
I always do like this when I'm sad
To communicate with the sea alone.
My lungs fill as I inhale the smoky haze of the September breeze.
Overcast skies stare down on me until the guilt drenches my bones.
A puppet to the pressures of most I cannot control, gnawing at my ears until the only thing I hear is the deafening sound of my own thoughts.
I no longer wish to be another pawn in this unjust game.
I will grow my wings and wander far beyond.
I shall not be influenced to abide by social acceptance, for I am simply over it.
I am over the influence.