How speedy yet sweet the swift
how slow and sleepy the sloth
how creepy crawly the caterpillar
metamorphosing into a moth
how flutters by the butterfly
how groaning grumbly the grouse
how caterwauly the cat
wailing at night outside the house
how snips when shears the snipe
how doggedly dogs the dog
how hops skips and jumps
the tadpole now a frog
how kicks and bucks the mule
shucks how dodges the duck
that's the lot it's all I've got
there's no more so you're in luck
sloth hung upside down
the world waits for it to wake~
mocking time
Clay and dust made food
The sloth must be fed daily
Consciousness enslaved
The turtle sighed,
"You're going to take too long, aren't you?"
He slandered—yet, not exactly a lie—
The sloths eyes slowly began peer into the distance
As it gathered thought to forge reply
The turtle died
The sloth eyes slowly grew wide—
Not again;
Another friend,
Inhaling deep to sigh
So far today I have done almost nothing at all
picked up remnants of stuffed bunny dog left in the hall
drank some tea that was seasoned with ginger and honey
since I am retired, I still got paid my retirement money
I watched some lame show on TV from my arm chair
One dog jumped up next to me, the other did not dare
I have listened to the mowers, with a feeling of irritation
their machines are too loud, giving my house a vibration
Many cleaning chores I could have done, but I did none of them
my phone rang me twice, I am sure it might have been a friend
but I am not in the listening mood, and have nothing to say
so far I have been a sloth, completely lazy today
i often feel as if i ask too much
and say too little.
this time i will not ask, but rather tell.
of how i fear being too much,
and how i was raised on the belief
that love given solely to me was wasted,
that any charity given to me was too
much for me to possibly deserve.
or how my fear of perception has lead me
astray, wasted ideas and potential caused
by my seemingly everlasting sloth.
only this once will i tell you
of how unremarkable i am, and how truly wonderful i believe you to be.
i need you to listen to me, to close your eyes
and do nothing but live through me.
only for this moment.
only for this worthless minute that you will surely forget will i tell you all there is to know.
just this once, i won’t worry
and i’ll let you feel me so deeply in your soul
that you think that you have become me.
Some say the muscles that cause a frown,
Number the Seventy-Five in this here Sasol town;
To twinkle and beam needs a trio-think o' that!
Which heavy load weighs on spirit down?
You carry WRATH,that deadly sin,I swear,
A heavy burden upon your face to bear;
Your PRIDE prevents a buddy from giving aid,
You let that ANGER fester in the air.
ENVY of others' calm a deeper rut does dig,
You nurture tempers that are all too big;
While GLUTTONY of rage and bitter thoughts,
Makes of your soul a withered,broken twig.
Oh, seek ,seek a true friend's ear,a loyal kinsman's hand,
A professional,and pay him, who helps to understand
The bitter fire that rages in your heart,
Before the moody blues lays waste your peaceful land.
For though the SLOTH of seeking help seems grand,
The cost is great,not easy to withstand;
A lighter load with just a smile is found
Than Seventy-Five by raging anger manned.
a daily slug
lounging in my chair
doing nothing
retirement
keeping me sluggish
I am a sloth
In a world of rush-rush
you must hush-hush and just
slow down, take time to simply
breath-in and consider...
for answers that you seek
live life upside-down in trees.
The grass blue butterfly looks a bit like a moth
Bet you missed her completely said the arrogant sloth
I admitted that I have never seen any like this.
One just blew by you, she’s the size of a penny, you crazy old Miss!
Birds are flappy, fish are flippy.
Lively creatures, they are both.
Hares are hoppy and they're zippy.
What gives with the sluggish sloth?
The sloth tried on all the running shoes in the store.
Brand new clerk on commission’s heart gave a soar.
She did not realize that sloth does this every day.
But never buys a shoe, for running is not his way.
He does it because he loved the colors, said her boss.
If my supervisor would let me, I would give him a toss.
I found it curled in the shadow
of what used to be a hospital.
A slow hunch of fur,
the color of old bark—like the forest
had tried to grow itself a question.
It didn’t look surprised to see me.
Just blinked, as if measuring
whether I was worth the glance.
I sat cross-legged beside it,
tore foil from a protein bar—
offered the whole thing,
wrapper and all.
It took the crinkle in two fingers,
held it to the light. Didn’t eat it.
Just listened to the sound
plastic makes in a nuclear breeze.
It exhaled desert globemallow.
A whole Quaternary extinction
in a single breath.
I didn’t ask my question out loud,
but I think it heard anyway.
Do we stand a chance?
The sloth leaned its weight
across a rusted sign
that once read urgent care.
It didn’t speak, but something
about the pinch of its thick,
prehensile lip
said it knew what we’d done—
to the soil, to time, to ourselves.
It forgave none of it.
When it finally turned to leave,
I followed.
Not because I thought
it could save me,
but because it didn’t try to.
I have neither the time, wherewithal or energy to find myself again
Lost in the bowels of my hovel, I am too exhausted to begin the hunt
Piles of clothing, empty boxes, bags of junk, have immobilized me
If I was younger, if I had more energy, if I had more time.
Excuses keep me immobile, immovable, in a sloth-like state
How did this place get to be such a hoarder’s nightmare?
My breathing is difficult in coming, I feel sick most of the time
The real me died a long time ago, under this disgusting meat suit
I am too sick, my arthritis is kicking in, I can feel my asthma
More excuses, I stop writing, I stop painting, I sit in a recliner
Clicking a TV remote over and over and over
Binge watching TV shows that put me to sleep
After my nap, I might begin, I think, but I do not
I am lost, in the bowels of inertia and lethargic apathy.
The new me is no go-getter, more of a me-loser.
If I do not want to lose myself completely, I had better change.
It pulls from the back of my eyes, heavy
lulling my brain not to think, numbing
laying down my head
circuits shut down
depressed
Best way to describe it, I think
The way it pulls me to sleep
Losing time and mind,
The longer I lay
worse by day
Truly, a demonic curse
The self destroying sin,
Sloth
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.