"sit" poems - Hello Poetry

"sit" poems

41k poems containing "sit"

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Two dead boys (My favorite poem of all time!)Ladies and gentleman skinny and scout / I'll tell you a tale I know nothing about / The admission is free so pay at the door

520.5k

The Icecream Peoplethe lady has me temporarily off the bottle / and now the pecker stands up / better.

Charles Bukowski46

191.9k

Sit backSit back and relax / Feel the waves wash over your back / In the melting sun

183.1k

epithetand here i am again / at the intersection / of pedestrian language

157.2k

In The Rain-in the rain- / darkness, the sunset / being sheathed i sit and

E. E. Cummings22

148.4k

If I Die in a School ShootingIf I die in a school shooting / I'll never go home again. / My room will sit unused,

99.3k

A Poem About Liking A Boy I've Barely KnownThe first time I saw you it was in math class. / I didn't notice anything about you at first I just memorized the back of how your head was. / After all, I had an hour to ****

@morganmercury32

88.2k

I am fighting.I am no longer the / Steady thrum of heartbeats / When issues against women are

75.1k

A recipe for disasterI'll see what I can make / out of the leftovers I have. / Although, it's never too long

72.8k

Youth day (June 16, 1976)So many of us sit, think and still / wonder, / But have we ever gave ourselves the chance to ask?

@nolwazijoubert41

68.9k

Some Peoplesome people never go crazy. / me, sometimes I'll lie down behind the couch / for 3 or 4 days.

Charles Bukowski22

64.1k

If You Come SoftlyIf you come as softly / As the wind within the trees / You may hear what I hear

60.8k

Technology parkI walked among a garden green, / well paved and split by beams / of fence posts new and densely lacquered,

@SleepyWriter13

59.8k

ErasedSit and watch / a version of a version / of self

55.7k

TGirl.My name is Sara, a transgender chick / Wanted a ***** was given a **** / I hide it in knickers of satin and lace

55.3k

Nan, may you rest in peaceNan, / I wrote this poem for you to keep / As you lie peacefully asleep

@elliegodfrey28

52.9k

Her SpellI just sit and gaze, / And watch my walls burn in a blaze, / As I become captive to her eyes,

@thegerryjames15

52.7k

Monologue At 3 AMBetter that every fiber crack / and fury make head, / blood drenching vivid

51.7k

atomsi’ve given up on days that begin in late afternoon, / skipped breakfast and lunch, / days that fade slowly and end with

50.7k

LUV × DEEPER THAN ***Do you mind if I sit back and observe the process of the lords creation the subject matter is miraculous the beauty is elegant perfect in every scence my baby girl you stole my heart such a thief ain't you, thinking about seductive things we do sinners ain't we, naughty deeds but the intentions is good it serves needs / What pains me is that I have to let go to regrip your sparkling eyes again, got to move fast so quick that I don't miss the chance to clutch you in my arms again, heaven sent such a gift I cried when you was born I ain't even know you back then because, GOD made you for me I picked up your scent, I know from day one you was mine let us age old together bad and boujee like expensive fine wine, my kiss is possessive the beat of your heart is mine let that foreplay tingle down your spine, open wide going deep let me reach your soul ****** our achievement together it ain't *** it's love / I love you girl no *** postion that can top this deposition let me show you its deeper than *** I'm still into you watch me shift working overtime full time love baby moan out affection go on say the name, our body hum harmony can feel this body heat that steamy love, open wide in deep that creamy love that dreamy love, its deeper than *** the agony an orgams of how our love make our body shiver, I love you, I love you! I rejoice I could say this a thousand times it's deeper than ***

49.9k

Burning HoneyYou are liquid fire / Come, sit down / let me have a sip

@RobinMaraLemmen15

48.8k

Stupidest ThingsI'M MAKING nachos in your toaster oven. The chips fall in the pan without a problem. Beans, evenly distributed (if I do say so myself.) Salsa- good to go. Then the cheese. Generic brand shredded cheese blend. I dangle my (washed) fingers into the zip-lock bag, grab a generous pinch and rain mild cheddar down on my gourmet meal. And I feel the tears building. "No," my conscious scolds, "you will not cry over shredded cheese." I add another pinch for flavor, then another to assert dominance. I slide the pan into the tiny oven- triumphant! But the next task breaks me. I freeze when I try to adjust the heat setting. I hear your voice so clearly, like you're still calling from the next room: "you have to press the TOAST button, it cooks much faster." The tears start to roll. I think about how excited you were when cheese bubbled perfectly- "just a little brown, ever so slightly crispy." We would joke about your persnickety preferences, likely a product of your superior taste. Of course, you would have appreciated anything I made for you, but it was always better when the dish matched the idea in your head...when I made it like you would have made it (if you were only well enough to cook for yourself again.) In the present, I poke the TOAST button and flee the kitchen as to not cry in front of the smothered chips. I sit on the sofa and break down, gasping in childish sobs. "I miss her," I wail to an empty house. Warm tears coat my cheeks in the air-conditioned room. I feel so small. I feel so foolish for crying over stupid, little things. I feel so... so... A bell dings in the kitchen. I wipe my sleeve across my face and traipse back to the toaster. Hand into oven mitt, mitt onto pan, pan onto table. I grab the plastic tubs of sour cream and guacamole from the fridge and a spoon from the drawer that sticks a little when you try to open it. I pick the non-wilted bits off the head of lettuce and rinse them under the faucet. I finish the recipe. I pull out a chair. I sit down to nachos for one.

44.7k

sunday evening omnipresenceAs the sun slowly sets / The precursor to the week / With deadlines,

41.9k

StillbornThese poems do not live: it's a sad diagnosis. / They grew their toes and fingers well enough, / Their little foreheads bulged with concentration.

41.4k

A LifeTouch it: it won't shrink like an eyeball, / This egg-shaped bailiwick, clear as a tear. / Here's yesterday, last year ---

40.5k

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