Whimpering Poems | Examples

The Morning's Picturesque Beauty

I'm waking up and rubbing two blinded eyes,
The crispness of the sweet-scented air in whimpering July
Rapidly spreads by a benevolent wind that pleases,
It allows me to discover by intent a sublime reality,  
Which is the morning's picturesque beauty:
Does strong belief interfere with a sense of great friability?

Nature can be brutal or pleasant, and yet it can fascinate
Us, when it suddenly embraces each sense to compensate
For the discontent left by a dreamless and unrestful night;
What we hear amid those eerie shadows is the cry of a cricket!  

I distinctly revoke such repulsing and unenthralling nights
As I wash their macabre images off with cold, running water;
Is a better day coming, prompting actions that don't falter? 
Harm is done when pain is accepted and tomorrow frightens.  

In this morning's picturesque beauty, I could lose myself
And wish that dreaming vainly detaches me from grief,
not seeing any delusional mirage on the journey to happiness;
I've expelled the vile demons that made me spew lies!

The Wolf Man

On a makeshift lounge in the wilderness he lay.
He knew he was dying and sensed this was his final day.
Atop of this mountain is where he wanted to be,
so he could have one last look at nature's wonderous scenery.
The local wolf pack emerged from the brush and surrounded him.
He smiled as they all gazed, he found their presence comforting.
The alpha male approached him with a pheasant locked in its jaw,
and dropped it on his lap but he could eat no more.
He pushed the dead bird off onto the ground.
The alpha male began to make a whimpering sound.
With what little strength he had left, he pet the wolf's head and said good bye.
As his lifeless hand fell, the alpha male howled as the pack joined him in his cry.
The wolf pack was in mourning, their wolf man had died.

A Sad, Decrepit Sight

          looking 
         worse for wear
   at the mercy 
of winter's harsh elements.
          a stray dog,
                    sad of eyes,
clothed in all black 
             to match her mood.
emaciated and weather-beaten;

a labrador retriever 
        with her tail 
tucked behind her hind legs
        softly whimpering 
                    shivering.
oh, you poor thing...
how far is your home?
       scared 
             untrusting 
                  of strangers; 
 perennially running 
             from rescue.

with a looped leash,
I approach, again....
she takes a step back 
I come closer...closer....closer...
she turns 
      and sprints away.

I won't give up,
           I'll do my best...
to help bring you in...
      from the cold.

Silken Dust

They say,
Be not moved by gold,
Nor charmed by crowns,
Nor swayed by faces
Carved like the dawn.

But by hearts that give
Without asking for more,
By spirits clothed in grace,
Stitched with kindness.

Yet we—fragile beings,
Spun from dust and desire,
Bow often to the gleam,
Reaching for what glitters.

They say,
Let the heart lead the way,
Let the soul discern freely,
That true beauty lies
In soft-spoken words.

But we—flawed and fleeting,
Walk past the sacred,
Chasing shimmery mirages,
Bruising the hands of need.

They say,
Love the one who listens
When silence falls,
Who sees you not as conquest,
But as home—a safe haven.

Yet the eyes, ever hungry,
Falls for the sparks,
And not the hot flames,
That lingers in quiet devotion.

And while character fades,
Into the noise we choose,
The soul stays hushed,
Whimpering beneath glitters.

Whimpering Of The Wind

Sometimes, the wind comes
To make flowers limp and dance
To attract all eyes.

It, Didn't, Matter

One very fine day,
A mellisuga and a morpho
They were talking by the shore.
Suddenly morpho was trapped in a rope,
She asked for melli to lend a hand.

Melli lent her hands,
And morpho pushed through.
After much struggle
She pulled herself up,
But without melli's help,
Could she have done that?

I think the answer is yes,
But it would've made morpho press,
More deeper into the gland,
For it tested you, the land.

Morpho came back up,
Kept reminiscing the fall.
Melli consoled and consoled,
And morpho finally controlled.

Suddenly, the rope grabbed melli,
But when she asked morpho to lend a hand,
She still chittered her fall!
Melli was stuck,
Without a haul.

Melli cried, and cried
Her endless sufferings
Morpho didn't acknowledge, 
and continued her whimpering.

Sassy and Genghis

Sassy and Genghis they now get along
Sassy liked Kublai but he is now gone
Old Genghis still a little grouch
he growls at Sassy if she joins him on the couch
Sassy will at times kiss him and sniff his little face
when he is behind her sneaking a sniff takes place
Under the desk Genghis loves to hide and stay
when she crawls to greet him he growls her away
If on the bed Genghis cautious for Sassy rolls
he will yap at her and even hide behind pillows
Treat time Sassy gobbles hers right away
Genghis takes his time teasing her all day
Sassy lies down in front of him whimpering and whines
Genghis growls and wags his tail taking his sweet time
Though Genghis is little and Sassy twice as big
she never angers toward him is playful instead
She will steal his treat right under his nose
when playing keep away stay on your toes
They love barking together at anything in sight
they are more amusing than causing a fright.

Sometimes Sassy will sleep beside him
and Genghis is okay.
Without our sweet Sassy
Genghis would be lonely every day.

My Truths

                        My truths about self are important   
            To me but, can be different from others.   
I ‘ve wiped tears from my cheeks from being knocked down.  
I’ve told myself, fail I will not; personal honor, self-respect   
                        Is important; I will fiercely fight.   
I will not abandon my trust of moral values, personal, 
Or political; or harshly criticize and place myself in guilt. 
      I will abandon ego of self-importance, work on personal growth.  
            I have a lot of weakness, but accountable.  
                        So, I look for my strength.   
Want to be appreciated for contributions and who I am.  
            Alone in whimpering gloom darkness alone I do not desire. 
      My truths about self, trust God. 
                        Believe; with Him, I can do all things.

Lizzy

loyal to a fault and so much more
than just another canine
leading an exemplary life
eager to be by our side
doing her utmost best
always willing to serve
no whining or whimpering
ready for adventure
keen at every turn
eager to please and fiery
dauntless and ever vigilent
never shying away from love


AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Why Does She Always Have to Cry About it

Sammy’s parents wanted a baby.
He thought it would be a good thing also
until they got a baby.
A wrinkled up old-man-looking screaming wailing baby.
The one they got was a girl, they named it Sheila.
She cried all the time.
At first she sounded like a whimpering mewing baby alley cat.
Her crying got louder, more desperate, and shrill over time
More urgent, more desperate.
People in the grocery store gave them mean looks
that said “Why can’t you keep that thing quiet?”
Sammy wanted them to send it back.
“Babies are never labelled return to sender.”
He was forced to listen to a couple of years of this insane crying.
Why doesn’t she just tell us what she wants?
Why does she always have to CRY about it?
Babies don’t have words yet, his parents told Sammy.
Sammy thought about this for a long time.
When he was a young adult he worked in a daycare center.
He taught the babies sign languages for milk, eat, sleepy, and bored.
After the babies learned the sign, they were less frustrated.
Thus, there was less crying, and the workers had less frazzled nerves.

Now it is shameful!

To show that you care
When on your chin is fur,
Because..."All men are the same."

For, those who care will have their hearts damaged and eyes,
                                                  filled with bloodlike tears.
And once you're seen crying,
Or "whimpering", then you're a weakling.
Yet, men are supposed to be Strong.
Because, "All men are the same", right?

So, play along and tell tales 
Of how strong you are 
And how long in the dark you can dwell,
Fear, being the last thing you can even smell.

Now it is shameful,

To appear soft and loving
When others are rough and tough
If the blanket goes off, no need for tugging,
For you will give us another reason to laugh
Because, "All men are strong!"

For, soft and loving are qualities not suitable 
For a player who knows how the ball rolls.
You can't be a man, yet not a player
That's just a wish, you're a terrible liar.
And besides, "All men are the same", right?

Wolmarian Girl

On a busy Marescaux Road where  
No one cared for an injured dog, 
Where motorists do not come to a slow, 
And honking horns hammer 
As impatient traffic competes toe to toe, 
There on the asphalted heat 
The painful cry of a wounded creature 
Pierced through the peak-hour hub of the street. 
Out into the throbbing traffic 
The Wolmarian girl stepped 
Caring none except  
for that injured dog– whimpering, pleading, 
Fighting with its final breaths. 
And the honking swelled and motorists yelled. 
From their faces, I could discern 
They were void of an iota of concern. 
Above the chaos, I heard her whisper 
Gentle reassurance to the timid creature. 
The Wolmarian girl bent 
and slowly lifted her casualty 
And walked back to the sidewalk 
With ceremonious dignity.  
And I have always wished to be as brave as she 
Who defied the odds to honour her humanity.

Slap stick comedy Laurel and Hardy-dodo

whimpering sniveling pout
mopey face bo ohwe-ohwe whine
scratching his head mopey face
I was here with me

Sins of Ancestry

Burning in black flames of eternal woes,
my heart yearns to find answers it's needing.
Skin begins to wilt like a winter rose,
bruised from deep wounds of internal bleeding.

Haunted by sad soul's whimpering mourning,
shards of hope crack like dire demolitions.
Stumbling and crumbling without a warning.
An endless demotion of emotions.

Hail of tears plunder on marble tombstones.
I question the deceased for explanations,
but beneath the earth they have become bones.
I turn to the skies to express frustrations. 

Taking back my pain, so pardon my pleas,
as I raze the roots of my ancestry.

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!

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