Short Vomit Poems
Short Vomit Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Vomit by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Vomit by length and keyword.
I feel to vomit
Rushed to the hospital
The output is full of blood
But it is a rare group
Not of mine
The same group of our Mayor
Thinks he’s all that plus a pound of sugar.
I would not trade him for a nose bugger.
See the weird reindeer Comet?
He makes me want to vomit.
He’s dating another seasoned cougar.
They eat porridge then vomit it up
Dancing when they find carrots
And eat the other’s puke
Till they puke again and again
The sick game they play
For they are elite
And number one
Both gross and lovely
With added sugar
Oh emotional
projectile vomit!
Regurgitation
spewing all over,
sick to my stomach;
It makes no sense
feeling angry;
Nothing I did,
it’s not on me;
May the weight
you carry
reveal all;
Giving
nothing
shows.
He fed some chicken down his throat
and plugged his airpipe tight
Then vomited for 6 damn days
to fill his mouth with fright
And came along to think he'd die
till doctors poked his chicken
When all the chicken fell right down
an anus for the licken
It's a sick world.
Men of power,
greed, and cunning.
Vomit!
Banal and sophomoric,
evil men;
ohhhh such vile, vile, vile men.
Vomit!
Arrogant,
cantakerous,
cruel and callous men.
Vomit!
May they drown,
in blood,
in the blood of angels,
and vomit, vomit, vomit!
Cradled in a crib
Twine whiskers and spit
A fissure between
every footstep
nails impaled
into wrinkled palms
As I gesture in the
stiffend stance
of “I don’t know”
And ran crucified
like martyred puppets
on invisible string
At a horrifying pace,
shoes sloshing with blood
beneath the lace
my neighbor's vomit
I hear the liver cancer
her window to mine
I had a neighbor and we lived one in her trailer and me in mine. My wife lost to liver and breast cancer and I know what cancer does, you vomit. Robert Spiess said VOMIT was too strong, but he published it and it was selected as BEST OF ISSUE FOR A SENRYU in Modern Haiku. Robert Henry Poulin
We embarked upon a voyage
across the stormy Irish sea
The ship’s known as the ‘vomit comet’
please don’t throw up if you sit next to me!
I can cope with dirty diapers
and don’t baulk at the sight of blood
but when it comes to dealing with vomit
I’ll confess that I’m no bloody good!
Written after a short break in the UK
9/24/18
waking up
to a less than Harvard new day
Marked, with Zesty aggressive fumy intimidation
Face-ed ,with multi-colored vomit
that never seems to taste
Book end right
my nose knows the deal
but what others may know
I would (could) not smell (tell)
now with floating of the fumes
the sun in my life
gave shine all over the carpet
a whole new glow
that billions
would never believe
Just a series of taps,
Deeper into that hole,
No that hole,
Just a series of taps,
All their holes,
Any hole you can imagine is here,
Just a series of taps,
Illegally legal & immorally moral,
Just a series of taps,
Finger tip mantras,
Normalise our naked youth,
Just a series of simple taps,
The Algorithm stealthily sells innocence,
To the slave market of the MAPs
When the oceans
Swallowing some orphans
And
Vomit them
At the boundaries.
Yoh!
Don't laugh
Loud.
Because they can
Still be alive
By the miracles
Of Yahweh God.
Their parents were innoncently killed ,
went to rest in peace with God.
Yoh!
This world ?
Number of orphans encrease rapidly
As many parents continue to be killed
In some parts of this planet earth.
The Stain of Death
Going into that terrible place
A living dust-bin, black bags
With clothes and books inside
No sign of individuality
Packs and stacks of anonymity
Nothing there to define her personality
But a big stain of vomit on the inside of the toilet
There she made her mark in her last hours
Nothing else in her house of horrors that lets you know
She ever lived there
And even that vile stain is only a sign that
She died there
The ancients honored you in their cultures
Mythology crowned Jataya, King Of Vultures
Obligate scavengers, you conduct your foray
Toward putrid carcass of what will be your prey
Dead bodies, prairie dogs, rodents, wild boars
Insatiable eclectic pallet opens many doors
Vomit, your defense, your uric acid searing
Hunched backbone, broadened wingspan so fearing
Here they soar, the vultures who seldom kill
Just scouting about for their carrion meal
Triple cointreau not a good idea.
I read books before they are thrown on the fire.
Leviathan and Iliad
Good books sometimes seem bad.
This land I inhabit not a place I want to be.
A desperate odyssey set for home.
Vodka and a redbull so disgusting.
Everyone I meet so distrusting.
Idle in a dream I sit.
Disparaged of a life that I skit.
A divine misery I write and live.
And in Inferno I die.
As silently I lie.
Sleep takes me
Sleep takes me.
Sleeping.
Silently.
i like to think that my words come out of my mouth
spilling everywhere
filling the room
through everyones mind
captivating every breath
talk freely without critisism
but i have relized these words
these thoughts
these wishes
only come from my mind
and they die outloud
all that comes out now adays is
displeasing news
ugly words
fake laughs and feelings
and the stupidest of mistakes
the fumbling, the mumbling, and the regretable mishaps
i guess, its just not my thing to talk.
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