Short Whores Poems
Short Whores Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Whores by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Whores by length and keyword.
The smartest cavaliers at the command 'To horse!'
contrive to be in time for both a horse and whores.
Volodymyr Knyr
2014
Obi Wan Kenobi
Said “dooby do be dobie”
He wasn’t one but nearly two
And didn’t know just what to do
In his brownie, Kenobi robe(y)
Trump has made a firm resolution
To investigate prostitution
Why knock on doors
In search of whores
When Trump - himself - has a solution?
If more is less
then less is more
Is it too skimpy
Are models whores
Fashion's dress
is less and less
What's more ~
Skin's a bore
Around the world people will find
Life is best where people are kind
Find a kind way
You can say, "Neigh"
Horse sense thrives in a stable mind!
There once was a man who thirst for gore
Biting the necks of your average whores
Stake to the heart
He's falling apart
Spreading ashes and ashes galore
The leech boasts he ends many wars
With each speech Trump’s truce total soars
His confused amount
And White House account
Are summed-up trysts with Epstein's whores
The pessimist argued that all women are whores,
He spoke with a tear, with a unconcealed pain.
The optimist listen to him with a hidden fain,
He rubbed his hands with a wish to explore!
Stormy lives lived, their
whirling vicissitudes
tease our windy passions
imagery strewn
'long corridors else hollowed
by whores and addicts, why?
rages the storm, tempting
deep within, reflects the sky
America should conscript whores for the war
(Iraq)
The susicide bomber doesn't need to blow himself up to
~f~i~n~d~
heaven,
he just needs to be blown.
I’m about to explode
Can’t take it anymore
I look around and I’m surrounded by a mass of people I can’t stand
All the stories about all the whores
All the guys just looking to score
I am encompassed by immaturity
Is there any innocence? Any purity?
Portraits of hedgehogs on his grimy tiled walls
Pete did for good taste what heat does for snow balls
Though a weird kind of charm lay on his carpeted floor
Not hedgehogs, but bedbugs as Pete flopped kissed him like whores
Epstein's boys club
Mossads black mail list
Trumps buddies
Netanyahu's whores
no morality
example's so shameful here
Mr. Zionist
rants of hate
disguised as depression of tears
the supreme court of perverts
rules guilty
as charged
not so cunning after all
Love me,
want me,
read my songs,
if not for words I don't belong.
I've opened up stretched my soul flat,
poem whores are sure of that.
Give me,
feed me,
wanting more,
searching out for whats in store.
Innocent with guilt for lore,
judgement on the poem whores.
There once was a couple of old swingers
Whom were said to be more than just flingers
As they swung 'cross the floors
With huge knobs, like some whores
You should have seen the size of their ringers
Doors Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
7/25/2021
While Financiers Assisi
The scriptures never claim
one day all whores will magdalen
and disbelievers paul.
There is no verse that says
one day all thieves will dismas
by the city gate
while financiers assisi,
their eyes, their tin cups up.
Donal Mahoney
In a market
As this world
Of slave traders
Barely they can sell
Only your flesh
Merely save your soul for god
No; pleasure with whores
Not making any your thirst pass
But some then mourn illusion kiss
Where; every hope then in dust
Let then sell them
The flesh
And save your soul for god
Form:
Drink not of the fountains of whores
And whoremongers
Might they wish to deceive you
Curseted is who is outside
there level of inclusion, might
He find the woman that you
seekesth to make you
Folly in his sight.
Ye who are wicked to them
Is friend to us might we
Than wish you married.
freedom is a loose word-
loose like the whores
with sicknesses never
cured- loose like the
reins i'm holding across
this ass's throat.
so much snot from this
uncivilized nostril
build a moat each time
a treat is bought, get
across, in time,
before thought interrupts,
mutates impulse into
crime.
Love me,
want me,
read my songs.
If not for words,
I don't belong.
Ive opened up,
stretched my soul flat,
poem whores are sure of that.
Give me,
need me,
wanting more,
searching out for whats in store.
Innocent with guilt,
for lore,
judgment on the poem whores...
saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )
The silence shushed the baron
claims slipped through the photo door
imagination or intimidation
the silky fox spreads on the floor
Sticky situation
former lovers of brothels
and whores
tell me what's in store
Eyes closed to the sheepish grin
Blocked off from her sin
Rape me again and make me feel
Nothing else is real
National day
25 of April Portugal's
national day
It so happened my ship, birthed that day
a night Lisbon didn't sleep
Great Jubilation
whores gave their wares for free
thieves didn't steal
and the bar owner splashed brandy.....
generously into your glass
I came back onboard five in the morn
waving a Portuguese banner
Quintessentially phantasmagoric,
her cobalt skies' chimerical fancy
whores itself out for poetry,
sumptuously cached 'tween
a revelation's optical illusion
enchanting white knights
and seducing dragons alike,
her flimflam elusively lofty
& difficult to evermore be captured
amidst celestial spheres of rapture
Prostitution
I never liked horses,
oh yes, they are beautiful
and dumb
and crap in their food
on the grassland of forever.
Horses are like Romanian women,
you catch them, rape them
and tamed you sell them
in Hamburg as tame whores,
who can be ridden by any man
for a bit of cash.
And all the owners of horses have
to do is to serve them weed.
Run into open arms
Inviting secret charms
Race behind darkened doors
Harlots, rapists, worldly whores
Digress
Speak tones of love
Beautiful looking doves
Heavens gold is free and pure
Tempt me not just to be sure
Fly
Wise to listen but even glisten
As a drop of water listen
On angels wings now glide
Free from earthly pride
Thou shalt not hide!