Wheeze Poems | Examples

a wheeze and a whistle

every breath was a wheeze
sometimes it sounded more like a whistle
who was making this sound?

I stilled myself the best I could
my nose was whistling
my mouth was wheezing

two perks of being an asthmatic
add the perk of having to struggle to breathe
and you are part of this party

Shifting Frames

The glass once lucid
now deflects glow differently.

A chuckle clenched in the wind,
blanching and flaming.
Where were we?

Footprints echo, retreat, advance
sagging floor, missing nails.

Not long enough--
like a wheeze folding in and out,
a beam of light held in a still moment.

Sagging floor, nails missing,
steps forth, then retreat.
Where were we,
blanching and flaming,
a chuckle loosed in the wind—

now the glass, no longer lucid,
deflects the glow differently.

The Stench of Moldy Cheese

Pungent scent plays on the breeze ~ what a stink!
One I think, makes me sneeze
Gagging with each breath, I wheeze
Because of that moldy cheese!

Reading Tea Leaves

Wizened old lady read the leaves
two taunted her, a gentle tease
she heard a cough and a wheeze
leaves transmogrified with a sneeze

door slammed shut by a hardy breeze
what do they say? asked young Louise
You’ll have a good life she said with ease.
Old hag who raised bullfrogs and bees.

Too Young To Get Old

I'm really much too young to get old
Something's drastically out of whack
I'm still this handsome, charismatic stud
Why's my body giving me flack?

A strange bump just formed on my neck
Don't think it was there yesterday
My hair seems a bit thinner and greyer
But I'm still young in all other ways

My body is falling apart, bit by bit
Takes me an hour to put on my pants
I wheeze while watching sports on TV
My wife never asks me to dance

There must be a pill old geezers can take
To slow down this aging tommyrot
I'm not ready yet for an old folks home
I feel like I'm still pretty hot

This can't be, I'm much too young
To say 'uncle' and throw in the towel
Gonna fight like hell and never give up
If only I could control my bowels!

Growing old and decrepit

We cannot fight old age –  So, when I get there…  I’ll just embrace it with a big dollop of humour!!  Quote by poet.

My decrepit body makes me cry
Growing old ain’t fun, I cannot lie
My bladder leaks, it makes me sigh
Pelvic exercises I will have to try!

I’m not so agile, I am way too slow
When I need the loo I HAVE to go
Cos I can’t control my urine flow
Pass me a nappy, I won’t say no!!

I piddle when I cough or sneeze
I’m chesty, got an awful wheeze
My boobs have sagged well past my knees
Do I want a new body - ooh yes please!

To hear bird song really loud and clear
I need a hearing aid for my deaf ear
Going totally deaf I truly fear
I’ll get ears checked again this year

My aching limbs sure give me gyp
Got arthritis in my knees and hip
No cure for wrinkles around my lip
Anti aging creams dumped in the tip!

I repeat myself, that’s no falsehood
Instructions can be misunderstood
I repeat myself, that’s no falsehood
Oops my memory is not very good

A breathless house wheezes

Contest: Breathless
Sponsor: Constance La France
Written: 24/05/2025

Quote "To breathe is to live, and without breath, there is no life." — Lailah Gifty Akita

A breathless house wheezes

Winter looms with frost-laced breath,
this house shudders in anticipation-
Its narrow corridors wince at the thought.
These rooms have shrinking walls,
their windows wedged shut,
And doors refuse to stay open.
The air hangs heavy, like woodsmoke
curling through blocked flue pipes.
I do not breathe-
I sip air through a bent straw,
and when the wheeze arrives,
it’s like a violin strung too tight,
always threatening to snap.
Running was a rebellion, still is, 
playing football, was a war of attrition,
With head covered by a towel,
hovering over a steam bowl for hours.
Today, I carry an inhaler,
like a priest carries a bible-
not always believing,
but when breath becomes prayer,
I reach for it.

if they do not make you sneeze

Roses are red, violets are vile
Lilies are ugly, daisies make me smile
Allergies are making me sneeze off my head
I hate to say this, but I want all flowers dead

I cannot bury them in my yard for they make me sick
If you send me a bouquet, I will be saying “ick!”
Flowers are pretty, if they do not make you sneeze
But my inhaler is not near, and they make me wheeze

I am trying my best to not throw this delivery guy out
But he just brought pollen in, and I really want to shout
Roses may be red, but I want them dead
Now my blasted spring allergies have clogged up my head

Gass Chamber

the bones are the first to know,
they hum a low dirge,
like a bass line in a dying bar,
deep under the skin’s slow retreat.

blood stumbles in the corridors,
loses its way in the veins,
tries to remember where it used to go.
the heart?
it forgets the beat,
like a drunk forgetting the name
of the woman he once begged for.

lungs collapse like cheap umbrellas,
breath rattles in
like pennies in a tin cup—
a wheeze, a whisper,
then nothing but
a waiting room silence.

and the soul,
if there is one,
it slips out the back
like it owes them all back rent.

Too Young To Get Old

I'm really much too young to get old
Something's drastically out of whack
I'm still this handsome, charismatic stud
Why's my body giving me flack?

A strange bump just formed on my neck
Don't think it was there yesterday
My hair seems a bit thinner and greyer
But I'm still young in all other ways

My body is falling apart, bit by bit
Takes me an hour to put on my pants
I wheeze while watching sports on TV
My wife never asks me to dance

There must be a pill old geezers can take
To slow down this aging tommyrot
I'm not ready yet for an old folks home
I feel like I'm still pretty hot

This can't be, I'm much too young
To say 'uncle' and throw in the towel
Gonna fight like hell and never give up
If only I could control my bowels!

CHU CHA

On the precipice of a dream,
Thirty years in the making,
I have a wheeze in my chest,
And my breathe says "Chu Cha. Chu Cha"
And I wonder whether God will take me home before I get to see my dream come true.
And then I realize, heaven is a dream too!!!
Chu Cha, Chu Cha, Chu Cha, Chu Cha, Chu Cha, Ahh!!!

FORGIVE ME

FORGIVE ME

I ask that you do forgive me, please
Judging poems is no spiffing wheeze
Needing some skills but no degrees
As reading always takes some time
Seeking syllable counts and rhyme
Few are trash or destined to be ash

Maybe haute cuisine or rice’n’peas
Some clever wording can still tease
Upon le mot juste to quickly seize
And good free verse is not a crime
Any voice is preferred over mime
If too brash, then teeth will gnash

As emotions will flow in the breeze
Some words bring me to my knees
Meaning is lost without those keys
I am older, no longer in my prime
Choosing winners is a hill to climb
Sorry no cash, but I must now dash

Haunted Woods

This is the tale of young Polkahontus.
She lives in the forest; her aim is to taunt us.
The squeezebox is ancient; it’s lacquered and red;
she communes with the spirits and plays for the dead.

She gives the accordion a little squeeze;
the raspy sound out of it’s more like a wheeze.
She dances and prances and plays in the wood; 
I’d drop a tree on her if I only could.

At dusk she gets started down there in the vale;
I’ve fingered my crossbow with thoughts to impale.
In the rain, in the snow, even bitter and cold,
she’s playing that polka; Good Lord, it gets old. 

I’m at my wit’s end, so I get down the rifle
with murderous thoughts of a squeezebox to stifle. 
I aim through my scope with the polka red dot,
but I won’t pull the trigger, ‘cuz that polka girl’s hot!

Achoo, Achoo

Achoo, Achoo
Miracle Man
9/7/2024 

I rise each morning chomping at the bit,
because allergies are giving me a near fit.
As I blow, and I sneeze,
I breathe with a wheeze,
I’m glad it’s nothing that I can transmit.

Dust to Fire

I slip into the morning light
Catching the wave of the dew soaked breeze 
Giving up the fantastic fight 
Choking on the earthbound wheeze 

My friends all wait beyond the gate 
I see them when I squint my eyes 
A color brighter than the fate 
that made me always question why 

This body just a vessel sent 
from God for us to learn; 
our skin and bones are here to rent, 
eventually we all will burn 
 
Ashes to dust, dust to fire 
I lift my spirit from earthly bounds 
I will no longer mire
in the clock that never wound 

Time is the illusion and my body the effect   
My spirit here eternal and my shelter wrecked

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