Surfer Poems - Poems about Surfer

"Let the moon teach you the art of being beautiful and lonely at the same time.” ~Anand Thakur O, the night traveler you are the beacon for the distressed who are dwelling in darkness. As the knight of the night, you ride upon your white steed wearing a silver armor for those hopeless lovelorn. You are the afterglow of the sun when it retires for...

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This summer, my twin met a surfer guy, wearing bright shorts, looked like a dragonfly. Funny, had a bush so thick, thought he’d impress his new chick, his topless humor made her wave goodbye....

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Kite-Surfer prepares for his thrilling ride With double-checked gear, wades into the tide Observer sits noticing all that’s around And sees the direction where’s Kite-Surfer’s bound Like an outgoing message that’s waiting to send Kite-Surfer is patient, then catches the wind Observer sits calmly beachside near the trees From safe distance he knows more than Kite-Surfer sees Soon, he in the water takes...

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Alone he was thinking Money wasn' t a problem but loneliness was Looking for memories ...

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The Silver Surfer – (born Norrin Radd) - wow, with his metallic skin, I’m jealous of his surfing aircraft It’d be so great to take out for a spin. That Silver Surfer – of a humanoid race was born in Zen-La. A great astronomer was he. He did not like how hedonistic his world became. Here’s the tale of what he came...

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Galactic traveler Speed of light Unstoppable force Endless fight Wisdom and truth Surfs the skies ...

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The pink honeycomb provided a mysterious grace, Warrior with a sloth-purse unclosed wound. Sargassum, barefoot hollow woman, As if such an object could meet my canonic sound. Soak my feet in cool moist sand, And juncture to the purple sunset over the sea-bound. Slowpoke chucklehead hump and heave its swarm, Create a hole in the caliginous maroon of the unfound. Until she's done...

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Learner Surfer I am training myself to surfboard Practicing on my ironing board For I'm no loser And the best mover Shall win a trophy surfer award. So I've ironed my best underwear My motto is to always prepare If I have a fall I will not bare all And my assets won't feel whiffs of air. +*+* 18th July 2022 Limerick Poetry Contest Sponsored by:...

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Flat on her stomach Grannie rode her adrenalin overflowed she went in style with a big smile into the paddle battle she flowed The heart of an ancient wahine she called her personal genie a goofy foot true she already knew she’d forgotten her bikini Grannie won the right of way a righteous spot they all say her stick’s outline her own design shaper champion this day...

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I saw an old lady at home Whose habits bizarre when alone! She thinks she's abroad On her ironing board Surfing tides in a wavey zone. Her arms and her legs were well spread. Her curlers tucked neat on her head. Her pearls sparkled bright, She squealed with delight, "Well I can't do this when I'm dead!" Affectionately dubbed "Silver Surfer" What a spirit for any...

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awake all night scared at first light i can hear the roar it excites me to the core i smell it in the air its here for those who dare line after line a sight so fine ruler edge lumps of water the earth has awoken her sleeping daughter from far away they travel to me i am gifted a prize from the...

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Is she skating on blue gill the other faeries tittered. She was skimming the water, her skirts were all skittered. She is getting wet, doesn’t she care about that? This came from a watching interested tabby cat. The faeries watched her surfing and decided to join. They loved this pretty fountain, so full of coin. The cat tried to jump in...

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A randy surfer from Malibu Crest Untied the bikini top off of Celest You’re my Betty let’s hang loose As he tried for her caboose She slapped his hand away from her breast Aloha Barney and get off my turf You’re a randy dude, who can’t even surf Rico won’t tell you again I bet you’ve never hung ten She's not...

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What is a poem, be it long or then short When in service to others, to agree and consort And be it objective, to run with the pack Its identity loosened, its rope to go slack What is a poem, when written to please Each word second-guessed, each phrase to appease The critic, the pundit, the dilettante sure Your blood for their letting —your words but a score (The New...

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riding the shoulder, standing right with the movement is my boy lil Wooly Dog surfing waves on the rocking chair coming in from the back he holds his paws in place as if pawing into the whitewash getting ready to settle in then barreling into the blanket where it is cool and calm with a nice breeze blowing over he closes his eyes for a...

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