"bearish" poems - Hello Poetry

Vanilla vowels and creamy colored consonants Naughty or nutty nouns of almonds, apples, apricots Aphrodisiac adjectives and very berry adverbs Passion fruit phrases pirouette like peaches in thought A pomegranate patter that pronounces a pronoun Or perhaps in veiled vines velvet verbs purr Wondrously whipped words of love Salacious sentences with strawberry stirred A mellowed musk melon of a metaphor A salubrious simile sits like a sapote crown Amorous alliterative adventures with romance and raisins An ooh la la of orange oomph onomatopoeic sounds An orchard of the alphabets in a fruity potpourri of speech A bearish pearish play and plum pun on words The language of love written with love In this hash mash bonhomie Valentine verse

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Feb 13, 2017

Feb 13, 2017 at 8:56 AM UTC

nishu-mathur

A fruity poet potpourri of a Valentine's Verse

Vanilla vowels and creamy colored consonants Naughty or nutty nouns of almonds, apples, apricots Aphrodisiac adjectives and very berry adverbs Passion fruit phrases pirouette like peaches in thought A pomegranate patter that pronounces a pronoun Or perhaps in veiled vines velvet verbs purr Wondrously whipped words of love Salacious sentences with strawberry stirred A mellowed musk melon of a metaphor A salubrious simile sits like a sapote crown Amorous alliterative adventures with romance and raisins An ooh la la of orange oomph onomatopoeic sounds An orchard of the alphabets in a fruity potpourri of speech A bearish pearish play and plum pun on words The language of love written with love In this hash mash bonhomie Valentine verse

33

Graying, overweight, powerful bearish body a-crumble from years of bullwork. Didn't matter what the day job was when the stage was mine four nights a week. Now the voice cracks, and crowds giggle or avert their eyes when it blows up. There was a time when whatever I put my mind or body to, got done. I got a standing O from an orchestra and carried a waterbed up 3 flights of stairs. This morning, I put word to byte because it's one of the few things I do better now than then.

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Jan 31, 2011

Jan 31, 2011 at 3:58 AM UTC

joel-m-frye

Perspective comes with age

Graying, overweight, powerful bearish body a-crumble from years of bullwork. Didn't matter what the day job was when the stage was mine four nights a week. Now the voice cracks, and crowds giggle or avert their eyes when it blows up. There was a time when whatever I put my mind or body to, got done. I got a standing O from an orchestra and carried a waterbed up 3 flights of stairs. This morning, I put word to byte because it's one of the few things I do better now than then.

20

~for Cathy Leff, curator~ no bugler blaring ‘pay attention’ to me, no emergent bad news bearish telephone cell call of an absurd tonal, no alarm clock retaliating agin a humans daily defying double-slap, no young children sneaking in, with a guard dog in accompaniment, joy-ending a deep parental sleep from the exhaustion they induced but as if shot, the humans burst into alertness, from prone to moan, they instantly revert, becoming **** Erectus, gasping from shock troop dreams, and a chest-pounding message, a whisper growing, an ever increasing crescendo, an unnatural law, an unsullied foot-stomping battle cry that self-terrorizes, undeniable: write me, your poem, write me now! ah, it must be 5:00 am...

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May 31, 2019

May 31, 2019 at 4:02 PM UTC

sunrain

the wake up call

~for Cathy Leff, curator~ no bugler blaring ‘pay attention’ to me, no emergent bad news bearish telephone cell call of an absurd tonal, no alarm clock retaliating agin a humans daily defying double-slap, no young children sneaking in, with a guard dog in accompaniment, joy-ending a deep parental sleep from the exhaustion they induced but as if shot, the humans burst into alertness, from prone to moan, they instantly revert, becoming **** Erectus, gasping from shock troop dreams, and a chest-pounding message, a whisper growing, an ever increasing crescendo, an unnatural law, an unsullied foot-stomping battle cry that self-terrorizes, undeniable: write me, your poem, write me now! ah, it must be 5:00 am...

13

Somewhere inside of you There is a small boy too A boy who wants to be loved A boy who wants his hair to be ruffled Who lost his childhood Only remembers his struggle A boy whose eyes still hold Dreams that he once cherished Dreams that help him soar Above his agony so un-bearish He held on to that piece of sanity Hoping his dreams would soon become a reality Before long, the world and its wisdom came knocking on his door Woke him out of his slumber Shattered his tower and covered in fear! So he now hides behind, doors made of steel Reinforced with ideas that he's built his reserve He doesn't need your love He doesn't need your smile You see his attitude is enough to suffice. But catch him when he's down and defenseless And you'll see the glimpse of a child so helpless Who is longing and yearning to be accepted by you With arms stretched out simply crying silent tears One who'll never tell you his worst fears. It takes that kind of woman to see through his facade The strong walls of his towers are crumbling again But he fears this loss, his control over his sanity Its not long before, his succumbs to his frailty.

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Jul 16, 2014

Jul 16, 2014 at 2:38 AM UTC

twinkle

Somewhere inside of you (for all the men)

Somewhere inside of you There is a small boy too A boy who wants to be loved A boy who wants his hair to be ruffled Who lost his childhood Only remembers his struggle A boy whose eyes still hold Dreams that he once cherished Dreams that help him soar Above his agony so un-bearish He held on to that piece of sanity Hoping his dreams would soon become a reality Before long, the world and its wisdom came knocking on his door Woke him out of his slumber Shattered his tower and covered in fear! So he now hides behind, doors made of steel Reinforced with ideas that he's built his reserve He doesn't need your love He doesn't need your smile You see his attitude is enough to suffice. But catch him when he's down and defenseless And you'll see the glimpse of a child so helpless Who is longing and yearning to be accepted by you With arms stretched out simply crying silent tears One who'll never tell you his worst fears. It takes that kind of woman to see through his facade The strong walls of his towers are crumbling again But he fears this loss, his control over his sanity Its not long before, his succumbs to his frailty.

29

You see her on these windy sun-shot mornings, walking under yellow trees. You see her on the sidewalk in her dull pink jacket, knit cap the color of burgundy. Her red-tipped cane swings wide again and again. She moves with a bearish shuffle step among the orange leaves in her path - listens to the hidden world. And if you meet her face to face, though she does this less often than before, she will ask: Do I know you? Sure, I know you from somewhere.

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Feb 18, 2012

Feb 18, 2012 at 12:22 AM UTC

robert-kralapp

Sightings

You see her on these windy sun-shot mornings, walking under yellow trees. You see her on the sidewalk in her dull pink jacket, knit cap the color of burgundy. Her red-tipped cane swings wide again and again. She moves with a bearish shuffle step among the orange leaves in her path - listens to the hidden world. And if you meet her face to face, though she does this less often than before, she will ask: Do I know you? Sure, I know you from somewhere.

16

Grubby am I to fanciful passersby Sulky eye can't meet such sultry treat For worn out shoes upon my feet Divide us in classes; meek versus neat Yet as stripped down across over town Wherein tall grasses lay bare ***** Lies chance for me in barren passes Just a prance away to lured trespasses And in this sin I gladly engage Deception tears off its coverings For once men naked in their rage Comes natural instinctive brothering So hmm and ha, to you ta-ta Your wares persuade not my cares For shares of what not one wear Shall decicide how lust shall fare There you have it, there it is What has been mine, has been his When stripped down to naked truth All men bear bearish brute

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Apr 7, 2016

Apr 7, 2016 at 5:03 PM UTC

pj-poesy

Baring Wares

Grubby am I to fanciful passersby Sulky eye can't meet such sultry treat For worn out shoes upon my feet Divide us in classes; meek versus neat Yet as stripped down across over town Wherein tall grasses lay bare ***** Lies chance for me in barren passes Just a prance away to lured trespasses And in this sin I gladly engage Deception tears off its coverings For once men naked in their rage Comes natural instinctive brothering So hmm and ha, to you ta-ta Your wares persuade not my cares For shares of what not one wear Shall decicide how lust shall fare There you have it, there it is What has been mine, has been his When stripped down to naked truth All men bear bearish brute

20

Reddish Lips Bearish Cheeks Brownish Eyes Lavish Hair Childish Look Stylish Walk Strongish Girl She Is. __Fathima Ruhee__

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Jul 28, 2019

Jul 28, 2019 at 10:17 AM UTC

inking__scribbler

Girlish

Reddish Lips Bearish Cheeks Brownish Eyes Lavish Hair Childish Look Stylish Walk Strongish Girl She Is. __Fathima Ruhee__

9

A free portrait! Imagine that, At no charge this troglodyte Decided that I deserved a rendition in pulsing crimson, me! He effortlessly sliced the curve of my face, And then holding true to brute form, Let his fists do the rest of the painting. In a breath’s thought I fought the idea That this strong browed man was a fan of Yves klein, but then he caringly guided my sight Floor-bound and I noticed that he was a Monochromatic ******* Now, I wasn’t expecting Monet, But in truth the elegance of the lazy red river Careening down my cheek and neck got my hopes up. And then further was impressed by his liberalness With bottomless black crimson Where he’d only previously flirt with young pinot noir As he took a break to wash and massage his stained hands I clutched at the hope that perhaps he was done with the Onslaught with such blunt tools, As such methods could ruin the whole piece Unfortunately, he returned And his care for each swipe was becoming more More impassioned, but less precise, I asked if he perhaps needed a second break? Perhaps I could assist him, I wanted to give it a try myself, but my hands were Tied. In vain, I tried to tell him that, Perhaps, His bearish skills and appearance, Would be better suited to a life of leather, whips, and Oedipus Complexes, But his response was, Cutting. You should never laugh at an artist Especially the bad ones Because then their work some how finds a way to get worse I asked if he’d learned how to work from his father, And whether his father had worked him in any Other Manner, and that’s when I became dizzy I think. Apparently struck a nerve.

0

Feb 5, 2018

Feb 5, 2018 at 7:20 PM UTC

john-paul-richard

Untitled

A free portrait! Imagine that, At no charge this troglodyte Decided that I deserved a rendition in pulsing crimson, me! He effortlessly sliced the curve of my face, And then holding true to brute form, Let his fists do the rest of the painting. In a breath’s thought I fought the idea That this strong browed man was a fan of Yves klein, but then he caringly guided my sight Floor-bound and I noticed that he was a Monochromatic ******* Now, I wasn’t expecting Monet, But in truth the elegance of the lazy red river Careening down my cheek and neck got my hopes up. And then further was impressed by his liberalness With bottomless black crimson Where he’d only previously flirt with young pinot noir As he took a break to wash and massage his stained hands I clutched at the hope that perhaps he was done with the Onslaught with such blunt tools, As such methods could ruin the whole piece Unfortunately, he returned And his care for each swipe was becoming more More impassioned, but less precise, I asked if he perhaps needed a second break? Perhaps I could assist him, I wanted to give it a try myself, but my hands were Tied. In vain, I tried to tell him that, Perhaps, His bearish skills and appearance, Would be better suited to a life of leather, whips, and Oedipus Complexes, But his response was, Cutting. You should never laugh at an artist Especially the bad ones Because then their work some how finds a way to get worse I asked if he’d learned how to work from his father, And whether his father had worked him in any Other Manner, and that’s when I became dizzy I think. Apparently struck a nerve.

44

Former CIA Director John Brennan scathing headlines Washington Post op-ed sharply published critical accusations muted excoriation slams Commander in Chief volcanic blatant pathological lying spews like lava his American foreign policy boilerplate brazenly bastardizes by banditry blueprint, balefully balkanizing beautiful bracketed booming brady bunch brand, bests best-buy buffer braking balanced bastion, bolstered beloved benighted bequeathed bicameral bipartisan bliss, Baptizing bacchanalian buffoonish bombast, betokening bobble-headed Bumstead, barmy bartered bride bravado, bizarrely brash brassiness, blindsiding behavior, beetlebrowed bonehead, bafflingly baldfaced, bankrupting, blithely bollixing, bombastically belittling, badmouthing, banally blasting, banana-boat baseless, bearish blandishments, beastly boastful boosterism, bellicosely boorish, bug-eyed, bighearted, bigoted blathering breeding blunderbuss bloopers, bewildering bloodletting bellyache blight, brazenly being bandying bellwether, blitzing bourgeoisie balderdash, balking but beaming barbaric berserk ballyhoo backbiting, backslapping backstabbing blacklisting bromides, besetting basic bestowed blooming, Bobbitizing bedeviling beneficial bulwark bereft badinage, ballistically ballooning betrayal birthing bedlam.

0

Jun 2, 2018

Jun 2, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

Mean Mien Donald Trump

Former CIA Director John Brennan scathing headlines Washington Post op-ed sharply published critical accusations muted excoriation slams Commander in Chief volcanic blatant pathological lying spews like lava his American foreign policy boilerplate brazenly bastardizes by banditry blueprint, balefully balkanizing beautiful bracketed booming brady bunch brand, bests best-buy buffer braking balanced bastion, bolstered beloved benighted bequeathed bicameral bipartisan bliss, Baptizing bacchanalian buffoonish bombast, betokening bobble-headed Bumstead, barmy bartered bride bravado, bizarrely brash brassiness, blindsiding behavior, beetlebrowed bonehead, bafflingly baldfaced, bankrupting, blithely bollixing, bombastically belittling, badmouthing, banally blasting, banana-boat baseless, bearish blandishments, beastly boastful boosterism, bellicosely boorish, bug-eyed, bighearted, bigoted blathering breeding blunderbuss bloopers, bewildering bloodletting bellyache blight, brazenly being bandying bellwether, blitzing bourgeoisie balderdash, balking but beaming barbaric berserk ballyhoo backbiting, backslapping backstabbing blacklisting bromides, besetting basic bestowed blooming, Bobbitizing bedeviling beneficial bulwark bereft badinage, ballistically ballooning betrayal birthing bedlam.

38

To aerate, babble and procrastinate decluttering man cave ******* welcoming this temperate (Billy me) idle March thirtieth tooth house sand nineteen eventually to accomplish sorting thru lifetime worth miscellaneous papered material former rainforest, I banish to the shredder repurposing once upon a time stately majestic humongous dignified cub billed bearish, yet stern silent taskmasters razed forest mongers left blemish - fueling the roaring engines of western civilization paper products service material world feeding bookish appetite, sans (ironic knotty twist) printed hot off the press bulletins, bestsellers inform boyish wordsmith, how vast treeless tracts hasten global abomination, chopping degradation, lamentation... brownish blotches encompass inert naked, torchered, and zapped originally pristine realms overrun by sawyers brutish Paul Bunyanesque (sporting as good) fellas carved cleared, and cropped enormous swaths back when bullish intruders displaced indigenous peoples crowing manifest destiny as mantra to appease expansionist predilection frenzied cultish zero sum game to annex unbroken wilderness promulgating feverish gold rush to demolish wantonly scorching Earth, whereby present day burgeoning population irrevocably establish ruination ushering ominous augury permeating mine mortal mutterings.

0

Mar 30, 2019

Mar 30, 2019 at 4:02 PM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

Intrepid Maverick Philosopher Returns

To aerate, babble and procrastinate decluttering man cave ******* welcoming this temperate (Billy me) idle March thirtieth tooth house sand nineteen eventually to accomplish sorting thru lifetime worth miscellaneous papered material former rainforest, I banish to the shredder repurposing once upon a time stately majestic humongous dignified cub billed bearish, yet stern silent taskmasters razed forest mongers left blemish - fueling the roaring engines of western civilization paper products service material world feeding bookish appetite, sans (ironic knotty twist) printed hot off the press bulletins, bestsellers inform boyish wordsmith, how vast treeless tracts hasten global abomination, chopping degradation, lamentation... brownish blotches encompass inert naked, torchered, and zapped originally pristine realms overrun by sawyers brutish Paul Bunyanesque (sporting as good) fellas carved cleared, and cropped enormous swaths back when bullish intruders displaced indigenous peoples crowing manifest destiny as mantra to appease expansionist predilection frenzied cultish zero sum game to annex unbroken wilderness promulgating feverish gold rush to demolish wantonly scorching Earth, whereby present day burgeoning population irrevocably establish ruination ushering ominous augury permeating mine mortal mutterings.

48