Love Poems About Flea or Flea Love Poems
by Skat A |
Categories: adventure, brother, fantasy, funny, funny love, giggle, girlfriend,

Monkey See

Monkey See~

There once was a monkey named Frank
Who loved to walk the plank
He said too many jokes
Pulled too many hoaxe-s 
Ha! Ha! Ha! Then he got a good spank

*

Who's that monkey in front of me
I dare to hang with you on a tree
Oh! What I do? Will you do?
Together we are like glue
Is that my flea or your flea?

~ Skat ~

Contest~

by Peter Dome |
Categories: desire, hilarious, howl, humor, women,

Good Home Wanted

Are there any nice ladies out there
Who'll take on a nice guy like me
I'm fully trained good with children
And flea free.

Loves dining walks in the park
And although I can be a handful
I do not bark.

I have been vetted
And love being petted
Everyone says awe when I enter a room
And poo! when I make a mess
Well I'm just a man
I confess.

I'm so loving and affectionate
And in need of a loving home
I'm so faithful
And will never roam.

I need a woman.open to offers. must be nice and have a yacht.please send picture of yacht. 




Peter Dome.Copyright.2015.May.

by Catherine Labeau |
Categories: absence,

Me

tic toc is that a flea
never to stand a chance
of droll she tralala
but love her as she is real
in your mist of dreams


by Patricia Bernard |
Categories: allusion, animal, dog,

I Am Not Weak

As I look around I think that I have found
a place where I can be free
I really don't have to be me
If I were me then nobody could see
I can hop a ride on that man's side
If they look hard they might find where I am 
for I am not of any size to the naked eye
As you see I am just a flea
I get evicted off of dogs and sometimes I am sucked up from the carpet
anyways I just love your pet

by Abraham Tor |
Categories: girlfriend-boyfriend, me,

To Sorania,With Love

Am not an aesthetic
poet.
I've no apollos
laurel in ode.
Too fragile is my
tongue to tell your
face;
For your look I dare
to speak.

Play me that
Amphion's harp
That in your mouth
dwells
For your sake I
shall be paris
For the Helen's face
you wear
I shall draw
Menelaus up again 
To Trasimene Field.

I shall seek the
Delphian Oracle
That your heart I
may fathom.
Shall I employ Seba,
the questionnaire
That the discretion
of your choice I
win.

Sorania, my Helen
I am Ovid to his
Flea
And as jealous as
Oenon
Lead me to Venus'
chamber
And your dream I
promise be.

I stand by the
promise of Jephthah
To be your Romeo in
life and in death.

by Matt Bowen |
Categories: family, father, love, old, old,

He's Just a Small Town Southern Man

I know of a man
The finest man from the Southern land
That man is my dad
He is just a small town Southern man

As strong as a bull and as old as a mountain,
He wouldn’t harm a flea and is as wise as can be
He’s as smart as a whip,
You can’t teach an old dog new tricks

He rather be working at home or at the family farm, 
Instead he works on washers and dryers every day
He drinks Heineken from some German town
Cause he truly is just a small town Southern man

by Keith Logan |
Categories: happy, humorous,

Nonsense In Sonnet Form

Oh that in truth I might report to thee
a love that swells and rages like the sea.
Forsooth I state this missive as a plea,
that thou not turn thy face away from me.
A noble spirit takes not any glee
in knowing that within it holds a key;
this wounded heart can never now be free
excepting by the words of thy decree.

Oh let it be, that I from thee might flee
not like a bee, that darts beneath a tree
too blind to see, who bends upon one knee
to pay his fee; annoying little flea!

My ramble run, the end is all agley,
mayhap I should inquire dost thou agree?

by Renee Kelly |
Categories: family, life, love

Grimy Rocks

Beautiful days filled with work, love, kids and pets
Stuffed to the brim and living without regrets
   Life's little, stubborn and grimy rocks
   Are neatly placed in a teeny, tiny box
Better to treasure our sweet and golden nuggets!

(Poem dedicated to those insignificant flea-like people who are, quite frankly, like grimy little 
rocks.)

by Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen |
Categories: faith

Faith

Flea from me oh tears.
No longer shall my soul grieve.
Depart depression.
Too many joyless days lived.  
Endless sorrows raped my life.  

I found living help.  
Happy songs direct my thoughts.  
Embracing God’s hand
Hope arrives swiftly, with love.  
Faith is the best plan.  

© July 13, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: BAG OF TRICKS" 	 
Sponsored by: Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.

by Megan O'Day |
Categories: food, funny, imagination,

Guess

I’M...
Red, Sticky, and Thick,
Could make you look like your dead.
Not eaten by a flea or tick,
And it’s always said.

I go wonderful with potatoes,
It’s a good match up.
I’m made out of tomatoes,
I love being ketchup!

by Eric Specian |
Categories: angst, devotion, father, lost love, love, passion,

My Heart, 'Tis a Caged Bird

Love, what shalt I speak for what thou dost see

Through most offensive blackened iron bars

Where sky is sick and hides away the stars

Because my heart pounds ardently for thee.

My Lord's old mind was poisoned with debris

By vile council to banish thee afar

For if we came and called an infant ours

Their worth would thus be scorned, ruled by part flea.


Thou mustn’t think mine soul belongs to gold

Lest be that gold which flows from out thy head,

Then ye'd be right, and know I could not bear

A breath away from ev'ry rounded fold.

As thou dost read, I draw nigh to thy bed

To set thee free and stir the midnight air.

by Messoh Vincent |
Categories: abuse, analogy, anti bullying,

I'M a Flea

On blood the flea feed as a meal
Such a popular leader indeed
Generous as a love leech:
You sell my skin cheap
And in dollars pay me
During jovial funeral
In a golden coffin.
One not worthy
I'm just a flea
For thee
To kill
Thin.

by Jessica Amanda Salmonson |
Categories: animal, dog, emotions, lonely, lost love, old, sad,

Poem Following a Senior Dog Rescue Video

We'll all be old dogs someday 
if we last so long. 
We'll remember when we were young 
and active and greatly loved. 

But then one day someone 
dumped us off at the side of the road 
because adult diapers were getting 
expensive and conversations 
took us forever searching for our words.

So there we are 
on the side of the road, afraid,
slow from age just kind of waiting 
for someone to remember 
to come back and get us, 
while we become increasingly
rattyass and flea-bitten
with muddy poo under our tails. 

Will there be
one final round of happiness
for any of us?

by Mark Anthony Bartolo |
Categories: depression, suicide,

My Call

I am a burden to the herd 
No smile, no light, no taste, no love 
I'm a downcast you've never heard.
I am called from heav'ns above.
They want my life back. How absurd.

I have talent, check the junkyard
I have skill, check the men's restroom.
I have a face you would punch hard 
I am small ashes sweeped with a broom.
I am the mud from the barnyard.

Maybe it's not meant to be
As Darwin says, the frail and the ill
Have no place but be squashed like the flea.
This is who I am. I can't chill.
Goodbye. Now I must count to three.

by Terry Allen |
Categories: lost love

Shakespare! More Like Shakes Hands.

What's left to decide in between you and I?
My suitcase is at the front door as I flea the scene
Not hiding but moving on with my life

We haven't been in love for a long time.
Since the day that we locked eyes.
Misery loves company
In this my companion will be perfect with me.


Don't look at that mirror you may see me.
An anthology of melancholy for drama queens
We aren't far from the same
and I don't point fingers

I left you in a box and lost the key
This memory of me will haunt your dreams
For it illuminates the room
and no light shines at the bottom of the sea

by Eric Schojan |
Categories: love,

Make Sure

If you are ever feeling blue,
Whatever you did or had done to you,
Whatever you saw you wish to un-see,
...Please make sure you come to me.

If you’re happy and feeling full of joy,
Before life happens and that feeling is destroyed,
I hope you know where you should be,
...Please make sure you come to me.

If your hearts been broken by who once was your lover,
Do not hide away, let yourself recover
If you’re sinking fast and need a pulse-less sea,
...Please make sure you come to me.

If your mislead by a hope or by a dream
And everything you know is falling through the seams,
If you need someone there that refuses to flea,
... won’t you please make sure you come to me.

by Connie Pachecho |
Categories: conflict,

It's Over

It's Over


she froze
her rose

his rope
his hope

his mire
desires

for he
a flea

on leaves
he sleaze

on whims
for him

rides mule
cruel

all jive
he thrives

no love
just shove

His run
his fun

she says
today

no more
implore

no more
front door

she walks
his talk

and flicks
his wick

3/19/17

Note-I just withdrew this poem from contest. What precipitated
this move is that a member wrote in her comments the poem wasn't
cookie worthy. Construed or misconstrued, I didn't take kindly
to her comment. She got her wish. It's over. According to her I
need help. So be it. Tell her she won. Save to archives.

by Donna Phillips |
Categories: childhood, faith, love, me,

Buddy

He was twelve and I was thirteen.
We were best friends.
 How we use to make a scene.
I thought to the very end.
 We knew what each other were thinking.
I protected him he protected me.
 That was how strong our linking.
In adulthood you turned to flea.
 You left me sinking.
I remember how we use to play.
 When we would fight and you knocked me down.
But me, I never thought you would betray.
 I believed you would always be around.

by Eric Ashford |
Categories: poetry,

Thunder the Poor Plagued

Thunder the poor plagued,
the tread thread barest.
Thunder the crow black priests
beaks clattering, hands anointed
with broken oaths.
Thunder also the mean streets
and all the mean sisters of hope forgot.
Thunder under a seashell dark,
for a flea picked residue 
is the image of love,
God bedecked in the vesture of the ragged,
a derelict in a derelict park.
Thunder in the unmade bed
where sweat exhausts an arid skin.
Thunder all headless silences
That hammer hard upon the breast.
Thunder the naked man
under the coffin lid of this moment
and the next. Thunder until words
riddle and warp, being all things left
after the clap and roar.

by Robyn Blauw |
Categories: confusion, death, sad, me, me,

One Wish

So long I have lived by the sword of your words
They have ripped me open - torn out love that lingered there
Twisted and turned and really hurt me.
How many times have I wished for death? Sweet and peaceful death 
Why do you hide? 
I am here - take me - comfort me
Hold me in that place where nothing can hurt again
Come soon my friend - need I come find you
And the meeting will be sweet
Let it be quick
I am one mere mortal
No more courage than a flea
Come - come greet me 
Soon!

by Adell Foster |
Categories: education, funny, introspection, love, me, philosophy,

Love Bug

Dipsy Doodle was a bug,
That fell in love 
With a flea, lying on a rug

Dipsy said hug me flea
If you'd please...
Careful now bug, said the rug 

Or you'll find yourself
Laying just like me 
Holding more than just one flea

Well that bug kissed the flea
and exclaimed that's alright with me
The rug shook stating we shall see…

Poor Dipsy Doodle Bug 
should have listened to the rug
the flea viewed Dipsy as the Love Bug

Produced more fleas 
than there were arms to hug
Hate t'say I told you so said the rug

by Adeyemi Joshua |
Categories: wisdom,

Reserata Carcerem V

the more you have, you spend
oozing urge pruning passion rends
less you have, you save
wanky wills by wishes waved

nosy nature's call's seeped'n spree
bruised blitzkrieg drooping felon flea
dark dances dribble drooling dirge
leering la-de-da limb, lusty lurch

when you take what's not yours
foiled fanatics gaunt gore what's yours
wanky want of love hoists hatred
sassy seals sodden, rustic rage rated

if your vegetarian loves pruning pulpy lies
bounty bet, drooling death will have you take a bite.
       '20:05:28:09:42

Note: of castrated carcerem.

by Vernon Witmer |
Categories: anti bullying, change, conflict, courage, love, society,

The Chase

No words to capture
elusive love.

Chased,
with boxing glove 
laced to hand.

Attempt to catch 
a feathered dove;

make a lasting stand.

Stalk 
whispered wind

in noon-day traffic.

Place a collar on a flea.

This vessel spent, so suddenly
does seek repose.

Lord knows,
we do our part.

Patching daily hatred 

with a beaten heart.