Short Walt Poems
Short Walt Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Walt by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Walt by length and keyword.
There once was a man named Walt
Who was more than worth his salt
But when trouble came
He got all the blame
Even though he was not at fault
Walt made Mickey a mascot of fantasy.
They grew together building a legacy.
According to his lovely wife,
They mirrored each other's personality of life.
Dreamer extraordinaire Walt Disney.
A work in progress his dreams will always be.
With a mouse called Mickey, he began fussing,
To this day his Disneylands are still plussing.
Some say...Walt Whitman's the poet's champ!
His works were well read, by dim oil lamp.
But, oh so long winded,
Those words never ended...
Woe, ritual champ of reader's cramp
sleeping white
snow beauty
the drugs
and dreams
becoming
one
grimmer tales
told so tells
giambattista
flax and apple
poisoning
as seen
through
the eyes
not
of doc
but
dopey
Form:
Disney
Mickey Mouse
Little Mermaid
Huey, Dewey, Louie
Disney
Disney
Donald Duck
Goofy Pluto
My favorite is Mulan
Disney
Disney
Think Frozen
Elza, Olaf
Snow White, Cinderella
Disney!
Flimsy flashes of realization
wake me,
weakened by adventurous
good times.
Frivolities begin screaming
‘Later!
There is one perfect moment.
Right now.’
Allow no delay to undermine
pure joy.
I find myself searching for the sea;
Floating;
Mavericks break upon the shore
inside;
Cymbals splatter inchoate foam;
Symbols;
Teahupoo surf behind lowered eyes,
splash in;
Welcome to boiling over nature,
my head.
Some days have a selfish sunrise
engorged;
Hard to focus on a thing but desire,
soul stained;
I want to do whatever I want
for once;
Nobody will steal my cup today,
I’m drunk;
Today everything will materialize
en force.
To hell with your hollow benediction.
Faulty.
Water shivers as the brass bell
just rings.
Drivel never comes from the soul.
Empty.
It’s blasphemy to be so utterly void
of fact.
I’m going to call a spade a spade..
Sinner.
Sure as stars shined she stumbled.
Falling.
A fierce lightning rod flickering
wild sparks.
Put the appetite front and center.
Boss map.
Hard hands callused to the bone,
dialed in.
There’s nothing lucky about it.
She fought.
Cordoned off inside of a weak bubble,
flimsy.
My ginger touch could never crack
iron.
Bold moves aroused those senses
with haste.
Waited so long healing feels all wrong.
Fought that.
The rebuild came back with a vengeance,
won out.
I walked in to my least favorite words,
‘Last call.’
We didn’t have an alternate plan;
What now?
So the streets will meet our mayhem;
Inflamed;
Should have given us your refuge;
Reap this!
Now we burn what you told us to write;
Riot!
Quid pro quo my darling, yes or no?
Press play.
Caught within an erotic cold war,
control.
It’s not acceptable to bend the knee,
break it.
My desire outweighs your defiance.
Give in.
It’s our sinful hierarchy of hunger,
my dear.
The crowd’s eagerness is palpable.
Taste that?
One forceful push and those bars fall.
Rush it.
Close the kissing distance of sound,
front row.
Inch by inch now it’s time move up
center.
I’ve been left up against the barricade,
so close.
If they do not acknowledge you?
Go hard.
When they don’t have a chair for you?
Build one;
If you’re seen as a natural disaster ?
Clean house;
When you’ve spent all you have?
Do work;
To ensure you’re seen as capital letters?
Write loud.
The sharing of a meal can be quite a romantic gesture
of course, when one is starving it may be a survival instinct...
a kiss while sharing a plate of spaghetti - is doggone great!
For "Sijo Kisses" contest sponsored by Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver.
Don’t push it, resistance has limits.
Back up.
I will always close space between us,
two steps;
Notice this conflagration of words;
Take heed.
It’s unwelcome, your brand of teasing;
Just stop;
I’m not meek or mild I’ve come to win
your game.
Do not use that black sharpie on us
too fast.
It’s advisable to commemorate history,
true love.
Moments captured with a camera
can fade.
There’s such clarity in consideration,
please pause.
Let our panoramic view flood your eyes,
look back.
Exploding transformers on the street,
flash mob;
Unable to see they move so fast,
frenzied;
Left licking senses buried in sweat,
spun out;
Synchronized for streamlined destruction
all night;
City streets cuffed and in their control
‘til dawn.
I, too, hear America singing,
As my flip-flops
Cruise the Wal-Mart aisles.
A fast-approaching wind
Drives me in to shop.
I smell the heat-rush
Of the hotdog vendor--
Clothing, mustard and relish.
Carts flash.
Soda crackles.
Purses snap.
Nothing's lost on me.
I won’t let you tell me what to believe.
Time’s up.
I was raised to have a mind of my own.
I’m strong.
Label me what you want I’m fine with it.
Roll on.
It must be more than a phrase for a sign.
Concrete!
In a cultural hurricane strong roots
won’t crack.
If you are
vacant of hope
Hope is vacant
of you
If you are
distant of spirit
Spirit
distant of you
If you are
absent of feeling
Feeling
absent of you
If you are
left without love
Love is left
— without you
(Rereading ‘Leaves Of Grass’: July, 2025)
He celebrated America and himself
Keeping his face always towards sunshine
Seeing, hearing, feeling
All people, all races, all religions
Living a life,when every moment
Of light and dark was miracle
Singing about himself, singing about America
Which was the greatest poem for him
his name's been on every child's lips
in whirls of fantasy, whimsy, slips and trips
synonymous with awe and wonder
we all grew up with the machinations
of Disney's wild and vivid imagination
a man with the grandest of vision
beautifully executed with precision
AP: 3rd place 2025