Short Whine Poems
Short Whine Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Whine by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Whine by length and keyword.
Hello sun, do ya' mind?
Your stare is making me go blind.
And as my pupils start to shrink,
I wonder why you never blink.
Long ago and far away,
I drank a glass of wine one day,
But I was allergic to grapes,
Wine o'clock for me don't rate,
Just listening to you is enough,
Whine o'clock now, tough!
She told me she loved me but what a lie,
her clock was ticking - child days flying by,
the devious plan was set,
I fell for the scam, you bet...
My kingdom for a noose around one-eye!
08/02/2016
Just for contest purposes.
Mom used to drink this wine for a tonic,
I had no idea she meant a colonic.
So I snuck some of this swill,
moved more than an EX LAX pill
cause the gas sounds were quite polyphonic!
Written 6/22/2011 for the ‘Bottle of Wine” contest
The day without love's like a day without sunshine
It necessary for happiness both yours and mine
We can substitute stuff
But sure ain't enough
With that magical feeling, absolutely no reason to whine
© Jack Ellison 2015
Oh, I love your raven lustrous silky hair
He used to say, touching it with such care
Now—strands clog the bath vanity
Why don’t you donate it for charity?
I give him my deepest pulverizing stare
Written on:08/02/2016
Contest:'Cheese and Whine' by Phillip Garcia
Written by Gail DeBole
on July 7, 2015
Updated Feb. 22, 2023
At first...
Cheerfully shared for liquid celebrations
For all of the right reasons.
And then...
Abruptly emptied to become a whine bottle
For all of the wrong reasons.
Whom ever taught my cat to whine could not have been a friend of mine.
She's learned to vocalize a bit and now acts like a spoiled snit.
It's so annoying to say the least. She knows I'll cave to get some peace.
I let her out for a window of time and ask if she wants some cheese
with that whine.
Haven’t been on soup much today
Been feeling ill some kind of way
Can’t put my finger on why I am sick
Did I catch a bug was it my last dish
I’m in no pain thank God for favor
So poetry soup I can now savor
Just feeling nauseous tired and lightheaded
Writing poems is a jones done from pink bed
His evasion of responsibility inexcusable…
though behaviour of this being as per usual
originally from broken where never taught devotion
great pity he grew without learning.
Fidelity and faithfulness insignificant
from the superficial apathetic participant
thus emptiness diverged from initial love of splurge
revolved...evolved am now to be discerning.
She was an ugly mean old hag,
Born out of a tapestry bag,
She smelled like old lint,
Her mouth was wider than a stag,
Her sense of humor made you gag.
A terrible skin-flint.
Original spinster from Crag,
Was usually on a crying jag
Her eyes were a squint,
Being with her an instant drag
She’d whine, complain, throw out a nag.
Perfect wife for Clint.
I was never part of a family
never on a team
never felt comradery
No one ever stood up for me
people bullied me
I was alone
Poor me
Poor me
Poor poor me
She held a pity party for herself daily
In the lunchroom at work
ruining lunch for the rest of us
All cheer and jollity are extinguished when she enters
poor her, poor her, poor poor poor whiney her
We started eating at our desks
Nothing gets me madder
than dancing with a full bladder.
Every time I cough or sneeze
a little fluid finds release.
A waltz, a tango, salsa is out of the question
another drink would just give me indigestion,
Off to the lady's room I must go
you don't need to question why to know
when I come back let's just sit down
hold the whine but bring the cheese
and pass the Hors d'oeuvres around.
In
Soft dreams ,
I deeply
Wish to feed your
Aggressively dumb
Soul an ounce of hopeful
Grace , For in the most deepest
Whispers, your attempts just fail the
Pigments you've promised in poor papers,
O, how the endless blood I've spilled , like
Oozing arrows aimed between those
eyes, yet you wobble and the
Spear just miss, don't beg for
Chances , I've sent so
Many your way,
Now sit and
Whine for
Me.
I despair when I’ve stepped in dog poo
Excrement on the sole of my shoe
It would be indiscreet
If I crapped in the street
I wish doggies would use a pooch loo!
I mowed the grass but now feel forlorn
I see cat poo all over my lawn
My neighbour’s pussy
Is so darn fussy ...
It's just my lawn that he treats with scorn!
Here’s my whine now pass the Cheese Contest
Sponsored by Phillip Garcia
08~01~16
The haunting whine of a cello
A lure, then seizure that won't let go
Memories arrested in the chambers of my mind
Still shots of reflections fraught with the unkind
No rest for the aching thing that beats in my chest
A somber strain that whines with seemingly no rest
Slow, slowly plays a melancholic concerto
Slowly, slowly cries the cello with an echo
As it goes, so do my lonely tears
Whining chords of discord illuminate the romantic backstairs