Simpering Poems | Examples

Suzie Marie

The simpering sound of Suzie Marie
Had all the men flocking and wanting to see
Her beautiful hair piled high in a bow
In a pretty white dress, cut short and cut low

The girl with the luscious lashes so long
The look in her eyes so fragile yet strong
The smile on her lips was a smouldering pout
She purred and she posed, whilst working them out

The simpering sound of Suzie Marie
Make men fall in love, including me

A Thing Of Beauty

Some of my best friends are men... BUT WOMEN!!!
When a pretty filly passes me by I sit up and take notice
There are so many sweet ladies in my world
I've actually lost count
From way back, I've related to women better than men
What does that mean I wonder
More comfortable in their presence
When a sweetie gives me THAT look
I'm a goner... a simpering whimpering wee pup
They haven't stopped raging even at this MATURE age
Still love watching a pretty young thing walk by
A thing of beauty unsurpassed
The most gorgeous work of art that was ever created
Some might call me a dirty old man... that's okay!
I just appreciate the finer things in life
And a woman is right there at the top
I LOVE WOMEN!

The Unsupervised Stop Sign

The Unsupervised Stop Sign 10-26-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Unsupervised Stop Sign

STOP!
Red lights flash crimson warnings
As arias of bloodred omens swirl about
My heedless headstrong rush past clanging signs
Into a deserted briar filled footpath in desertion.

SLOW DOWN!
Before unattended bowers of simpering weeds
Teach my mindless feet of snares and waiting snakes
While grieving angelic hosts
Sing pathetiques of harbingers.

DANGER!
Scoffing ignorance of neon auguries,
Captured in the throes of blindness,
My scorn winks in guarantees like surety bonds
That no other pathway breaths with rightness.

LOOK!  CAUTION!
Heralds of merciful premonitions skirr,
Lay in tatters of disdain - pride traded for prudence 
I swat at qualms and question like skeletons of leaves
Only to be swallowed into an abyss of remorse and contrition.

Tear-Shaped Beaker

“You must suffer me to go my own dark way.”

Robert Louis Stevenson, Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde

TEAR-SHAPED BEAKER

the tear-shaped beaker, 
 an amalgamation of Hyde & Jeckyll
      all the rage
   simpering smiles
          a London chill
the fog, the rafter, the edge of night
   & diurnal pain

i want to break the glass,  like a madman
   but don’t know the effects -
where i might stay in animated suspense

…breaking other people’s hearts

7/13/2022
Sponsor: Brian Strand

Fig Leaf

Fig Leaf

“While the fig leaf traditionally covers naked shame
The fig leaf also makes a healing tea of restoration” Quote by poet.

Ducking beneath a quilt woven of the fig leaf
 To sip upon a homemade brew of fig leaf tea
That soothes the inflammation
 Of my humiliation to enhance
The concentrated healing of my intentions
 For my unmasked vulnerability –
The exposed private parts of my simpering heart
 To apply an antibiotic poultice
That eliminates toxic gaffs of conscience -
 Slips of the lazy tongue,
Thoughtless raging fevers of impropriety –
 To strengthen bones of humility
This poor man’s olive branch
 That unclogs charity’s lifeblood
Increases flow with overflow 
 In warm generosity 
Eliminating tactless bacteria
 Reducing the temperature of shame
To recline again in sweet gardens
 Of compatibility at the twilight.

4-1-22
Contest:  This or That
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title Chosen: Fig Leaf

The fig leaf is used to make tea with amazing antibiotic, anti-bacterial, anti-inflammatory, fever reducing, healing properties among many other positive properties.

The Man of the Hour

The caricature of a gentleman, nameless, scorned,
The infamous savage of the famous street was wobbling:
Scruffy, shaggy, ruffed beared, tousled haired,
Disheveled,
there went the odious appearance, bumbling.
Soubriquet: lunatic, fierce, rowdy with murky torn clothes,
Was sitting stigmatic with grubby means,
Was teased and thrown stones,
To drive away from the decorous street!

He was spotted pitied with meagre chuck,
While feeding a destitute;
Taunting and sneering didn't perturb him,
Gave his share simpering, only to be starved!

The antithesis of savage, the man of the hour,
Silently paved his way then, bare footed tottering,
To be again the savage of the decorous street!

A Rainy Day In October

A rainy day toward the end of October
When the leaves are breathing their last
And the chill makes my arthritis ache,
I can’t stop thinking about growing old
And being disgruntled by foul weather
Letting a little thing like the temperature
Have a controlling interest in my mood
Even influencing what will be my food!
Seasonal depression strikes me immature,
Sinks into my brain and tells me whether
Or not I am simpering or incredibly bold,
Taking ownership for decisions I make --
Like Thanksgiving Day is no time to fast
And with family around, I must stay sober.

written October 25, 2021

Whiners and Whisperers

I have little sympathy for constant whimpering
Playing the victim and saying, “Woe is me!”
With that self-conscious smirk of simpering
The sort of thing that repeats itself annoyingly.

Few things I experience will trouble me much
I have little sympathy for constant whimpering,
I find myself impatient with an unwanted touch
And that kind of tete-a-tete of sly whispering

In my presence, where I am constantly tempering,
These are types of behavior I cannot abide,
I have little sympathy for constant whimpering
So, whiners and whisperers, don’t sit by my side.

Give me that modicum of respect I have earned
Observe polite decorum opposed to whispering
In early childhood my father made sure I learned,
I have little sympathy for constant whimpering.

written October 18, 2021

Carnivore - Translated From the Slovakian

Let this be my sacrament of lust.
Red dripping flesh I tear with my teeth,
Absorbed by my viscera,
Becoming one with my being,
Merging with my soul.
I am an eater of dead things,
As are we all.
Why should I not indulge my instincts?
I am as I was made,
Not as you would wish.
Simpering vegans, 
Pantywaist abstainers,
Steer clear of my path 
Lest I eat you alive tonight
And you’ll all be defecate by morning.
Na zdravie.

Specifying Defying

lets give it a shape
twisted lines of 3-d scribbles
starts and ends nose to tail
maybe
marshmallow squidges syphoned through gossamer ether
missed mist of missing moments

nope how about colour

black and greys that shamble between each other
blushing pinks with lips of rogue rouges
Golden slips that shimmer with simpering sympathies
Blacks of oil slick sins and surrenders
yells of yellows bloated blues
kinda missed again

no shapes no sides
no hues to tag its worth
easier to describe the blessings of the wind
the dribble on the chin
tell the end of the begin
holding tear upon the eyelid
sometime shown others hid

when pain begins to turn
the abyss beauty viewed from within
feverishly cold
intensively simple
intimately confused
the touch that must be felt
braces with a belt
insanity making reality melt
love is what

Tethered To a Moment

Amazing how quickly the tick of the minutes subsides
Becoming the hours that passed so quickly away,
While we were not concentrating on the movement of time
Certainly unaware that it was stealing our relevance,
While our souls moved imperceptibly toward the unknown
We sometimes spoke of our future, but before we knew it,
The future had become our ne’er-lingering, e’er-fleeting past
And when we felt tethered to a moment, it was momentary
Indeed, and grasping to it tightly as we could, it slipped away,
Yet, faint recall catches us simpering over the distant past
Attempting to recapture moments we were of self denied.

written August 24, 2021
especially for "This Or That, Vol 6" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Edward Ibeh

Seas the Dream

Surreal now, those days
Evanescent seas in time
A wind’s stonewalled aria
Simpering off cliffs…
Tyrolean traverse grit
Hard as granite without mirth

Elevation’s daze
Dared Yosemite’s wizard
Raging froth on green ~ river
etched a deeper gorge
A lost arrow stabbed the lea
mourning an abyssal dream

(4/18/21)

Dark Dances

reviving rusts revamping 
frolic feigning feasts
damped desires drooping 
mystic mists moaning 
puked passion plying 
tactic tier tucking 

sour scrunched smoothened
pleasant parks heightened 
dark dances darkened

fiery flames simpering
mocking mystic mists
towering; twigs twisting 

archaic aura blending 
brooding base bleeding. 
     19:11:15:10:25

Tribute To Amelia Earhart

Amelia, what were you thinking?
It was still the dark ages for women
Your parents and your husband spoiled you.
You had no idea what was waiting

Large greedy hands could not wait to get you
To make you what you were not
Simpering and begging, whining and groveling.
They thought you too proud.

You were captured by the Numbskulls 
Who capture all sassy confident, assertive women
And torture them into admitting 
That men are superior in every way

You did not go lightly or easily
They rapidly realized they had 
A wild cat on their hands.
One who had been spoiled.

You were making too much of a ruckus.
They got rid of you quietly, and in the dark.
You became a pirate, a water girl. 
Numbskulls being numbskulls!

Living It Part Two

One more eeked out continuum of instant relief
and with the derelict slopes
make of life these challenging boots
lest we fall to the phantoms of defeat

But for me this standardized standard of living
and for the hungry
they watch hope in its inexorable starving
so by my own meager comfort am I brought to infamy
judged by the curse of luxury’s own debauchery

I guess we have to fight
by tooth and nail and follicle
to batter injustice to the floor
only then to suffer the iniquity of pampered ridicule

I guess we should all be proud
to scratch and claw and clamber
one upon one and over the other
this chance we have to make something better
and still never try to do it together

I guess this is it, living it
simpering, mewling rat race that it is
better that
than the meat and blood bones of the trash

So we reach for the boulders at the mountains feet
and count out time by our own ragged breath
and there in the distance
the scornful height rests
one last attempt at life and conquer death

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