Stomping Poems - Poems about Stomping

Kindergarten students in Miss G’s class rushed right in Clapping, smiling, stamping, tromping, stomping, laugh’n. They loved that she had transformed their door into a gingerbread house. One of them began chanting “not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse”. Kindergarten students love it when you go the extra mile. Their enthusiasm that day made Miss G clap and...

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cowgirl stomping rodeo romping pasture clomping faster chomping joyful cowgirl boots embroidered with a flower wrinkled from a shower with all kinds of kicking power cowgirl stomping romping clomping boots...

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An ill tempered young woman who claims to love god but hates authority; yet she spews blunder and blasphemy in her painstaking state of gossip. While I sit and listen to her menace like behavior; similar to a dictator rallying troops for a revengeful cause. Her spiritual being announces a trumpet for the Roman empire as they...

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I recall driving past the place I used to live; it triggered a flood of old memories. Oh, I just had to drive back there! And with the...

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Heavy footprints conduct sound, Inducing anxious looks left and right. Attempts to pinpoint the birthplace, Only encourage lingering discouragement. Where? Where? Tormenting the still untroubled air, The stomps only leave a temporary sand footprint. Never to be deciphered, Only appearing to disappear. Where? Where? Echoing closer as hearts thump, Nerves fail to reach a breathable paradise. The stomps cease to fade, As your mind...

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One does not stamp out radicalism any more than one outspends capitalism or fights successfully against militarism or overpowers totalitarianism. We might fade out radicalism, co-invest capital in cooperative objectives for health, discern together removing threats of mutually assured violence and democratize polycultural empowerment by inviting therapy through all natural-spiritual nondual valuables, dynamics and animations within Earth's ecosystemic universally open spacetime network. How does it help to...

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A meathead is definitely not an ostracised ostrich, a warbling wavering walrus, a small but vintage vibrant beetroot who claps in time, a mascot at a match, a backwards facing grinning umbrella in bright sunlight, an automatic dimmer switch winking, nor is it a tattoo of a cartoon place-mat. Basements cook eels. Slip slide slip...

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Wet paint glistens and gleams, Reeks of 'do not touch me' aroma. But you just can't resist prodding a finger in, Leaving finger stuck, and paint job ruined. Why, Oh why, can't you leave well enough alone. Warning signs clear in friend's eyes Looking down and away, Disengaged not contacting eye to eye. But you have to poke, prod and...

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Barely above a breathe My identity dissolves I am a freakish clown of weak display Remnants of noble motions ripple flatter and wider along the lake I am quieting everything, like tamping countless steam pipes And so if these pipes sang they would sing, what?: …there would be nothing A dark translucent knuckle of vagaries And twisted dreams Dreamed-out and frosty falsehoods I feel less...

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there you go, stomping on the rainbow of my heart emptying the gold Cynthia...

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On my power walk this morning, When my mind was in a muddle, I was suddenly confronted By a toddler in a puddle. Now, the puddle was humongous - It was like a little lake; And this little boy was stomping, Leaving ripples in his wake. Though at first I thought him barefoot, He had sandals on his feet And his face displayed the...

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its hot i dance a lot i can help but dance it puts me in a trance its got me humping and jumping THIS MUSIC FEET STOMING...

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Down the road at 45 per hour to the recycle center. Just minding my own business. When here comes a car across the line in that 55 zone STRAIGHT AT ME !!!!!! Some idiot thumb stomping a cell phone! Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m amazed at the prowess of some of these hi tech gurus. It’s like their finger has gone to Harvard. Or maybe...

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One hundred dollars come out of each check just for screetching and stomping, but, ah... what the heck. My kids screetch the fiddle (aka, violin) and I pray the poor teacher let's them come back again. And they stomp and they stamp in their new clogging shoes, and I pop some more asprin; this headache's bad news. But I just grin and bear it, 'Cuz I'm...

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what if we were brain cells communicating to fast for the eye to see only were a baby's brain always growing, living and dying at an accelerate rate now read this again because it explains everything...

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