Cut Across Poems | Examples

Twinkle, Twinkle

Gleaming diamonds that dot the skies
Peering through the night with trillions of eyes
Behind crescent smiles, you wink a distant threat 
Oh, faceless gaze, how I wonder what you're looking at

You come with shrouds that cloak our sun
As hellfire burn behind the black you've spun
You weave the constellations like gossamer webs
While in wide-eyed wonder, we meander into your nets

Travelers crossing the night have leaned on you so
For your twinkling fingers point which way to go
But as your blinking orbs appraise their every move
You chart our world—every corner, every groove

Trillions of eyes cut across the darkness deep
Tendrils of light rain upon us while we sleep
While crescent grimace whisper into our dreams
Oh, twinkle, twinkle, draw us closer into your seams

Anti-Diagonalism

We must be fastidious and particular,
our sidewalks, strictly perpendicular -
and we must sternly ask, who would be so crass
as to cut across our new mown grass.  
This despicable heathen can't be one of us. 
He can only be Pythugorus.

Oceans - of Thought

| Oceans - Of Thought |

Harmonised hypothermia sets 
through the darkened depth 
of the chasm deep,
Like a heavy-weighted wreck 
of my linguistic mind.
As blithe planulae float 
amongst the turquoise torrents 
of the surging tides.
Efflux my porous skin 
that secretes the bitter brine,
Void of lust, my halitous breath.

When will I find the courage 
that guillotine faith;
cut across these saline soothing shores
That reflects like crystalline glass,
that rips and takes.
But, incompetent to see more;
the calm of the sea.

But under tide 
the waves topple above 
like whitewash remembrances
Beckoning me to emerge and find,
Flavours of youth 
in the lull of the sea
So I begin searching of forever freedoms 
in the caress of the breeze.

I say my adieu to the abyss-abundant sea
My love for the ocean;
Is a coral of burnt sienna, 
tipped with lanvanda, 
and blushing pinks.
The azure's solvent divinity 
has annihilated fear
Like an oakum of my sanity
My mind finally carefree.

Grid Locks

Just another day of obstructions, heartless
                              souls, lack of communication on a daily. Obstructions
                             of gridlock. at a crossroad, at a crossroad, at a crossroad.

                        Around the corner cut across to abandonment, made a
                           left turn to mistrust swerved right to divorce while
                         approaching slander at a intersection. gotta find my way
                          back, gotta find my way back.
                     
                          Should it be suggested the world seems to be so distorted?
                           trying to find one's way back, from these sign posts and
                          roadblocks and gridlocks.

Tourmaline Birthstone Cycle

October hushes
a cold snap, baldachin for 
red, brown and gold leaf. 
Indian summer waver, Indian rope trick 
sent to douse earthen world shackle.
Bogus heat pump transience.
Polar air mass scatters migrant bird 
on vibrant amber.
Ocean gust saline coated whisper
 to autumn eardrum host.
Nightscape shadows rudely cut across 
the afternoon event space.

Date posted : 19th October 2021

Kabiyesi

Èmi rábàbà níwájú Oba  ñlá
Adàgbà  má  tè'pá olórúko ñlá
Àìkú àìsá àìpa'pòdà
Ògbóùn tarìgì okùnrín Ogun
Oba mímó
Tó n gbé'bi mímó
Tó n so mímó
Tó n te  mímó
Tó n je mímó
Tó n mu  mímó
Tó n se mímó
Àwon àgbààgbà mérìnlélógún n pariwo mímó mímó mímó olódùmarè
Alábé'nú ànsásí 
Àpáta ayérayé 
Oko fún àwon opó
Ògbèjà àwon omo òrukàn
Ògboùntarìgì arúgbó ojó
Ògbe'ni ní'jà
Kó'ní jà ó sa 
We worship your majesty!
For you are the God of no impossibility
The Holy Trinity
That takes decision without signing any treaty
Your Lordship cut across every community 
For you are the Lord God Almighty
Who reigns in absolute Majesty
When we lost our way, you were our way maker
When we were chained, you were our Chain Breaker
When they thought we had no goals, you were our Goal Setter and getter 
What more can we say but to bow down and say *Kaaaabiyesi o*

#HappySunday

ABSOL - 07032277508

ABSOL

Metropolitan Sunrise

A gilt and rusted nest of steel,
stone and brick and concrete,
haunted by its own electric soul,
awaits the tangled light of early spring.

Throughout the restless night,
heavy boats have cut across the bay
leaving scars upon its cold
and gray and gleaming skin.

But every sin committed
on the landscape by this sprawling city
suddenly appears to be forgiven
with the rising of the sun.

“Live again, and work.”
A million clocks have sprung.
The ragged threads of countless dreams
that clung to countless minds
are brushed away.

In unison they rise,
they wash,
they work.

The moon alone is left to take its subtle time,
to wander narrow strips of sky,
to climb the steel lattices and gaze away
across the moving clamor of the day.

Our Dark Passion

The warm, quiet chamber had one red rose, 
Lit by a candle,
And a flame that danced with the shadows, 
From up upon the mantle,

And these shadows cut across her throat, 
Her throat of velvet tender,
Across my slowly moving grip, 
That made her mind surrender,

And my delicate rage pulled her hair, 
Poured her head over the side,
Down toward the floor below, 
As my thirsty heart required,

Slowly, softly, deep and calm, 
The shadows walked all night,
And took the innocent from our want, 
Our passion now oh so quiet.

Toxic Loving

Toxic Loving  

Defense wounds cut across my hands
Bruises of your finger prints line my neck
Words of disgust inprinted in my brain
Empty trailer in the middle of nowhere on an obscure
rainy day
You thought you had me, but ya lost me
We were a trainwreck upon the empty tracks
next to the place you had your way
Tell me this one thing
Are you happy?
Toxic loving is what they called it
That day you took my angel wings away
Heaven turnt upside down
Yet, I still loved ya
Pain still remained
Yet, I smoked it all away
Do you still hate me?
Can you feel my pain?
I forgive you
No more tears on my pillow
They've been all washed away
The echo of thunder still remains
No more weeping willow
Rainbows always shine
After the storms and rain

We Are All Insane Drivers

The sun is out, black birds sing, 
All seems calm, happy, and gay,
As I walk through the door, over the porch,
To my car parked in the drive way.

Her motor purrs, groans and growls, 
And “Peace” is changed to “Drive”,
Where “Road rules” mean “Road suggestions”, 
Where the plan is to simply survive.

And it begins, the tailgater, the horn blower, 
The cut across lanes when you can,
Ignore the cyclist, pedestrian, stop sign, red light, 
And swerve past the ice cream van.

Finally, after scratching the car next door ,
I leave it parked in the centre of town,
And, peacefully, calmly, I proudly walk upright,
Into the court, with my white wig and my gown.

Love Is Actually

It is when your attention is enslaved by a single scent..
Your first liking is she and second becomes her sharp speak..
Dreams cut across the heights and fantasy flies to large extent.
Red just reminds her lips and black to her hair sleek.,

When the music generate more than a pleasing mood in you..,
When her soft move towards you get all your strings disturbed.,
Each her smile and gesture get pasted in your heart with glue..,
And all your intentions demands to get out from being curbed..,

Your soul feel like emitting perfume and turns more beautiful miraculously..,
Then get it confirmed baby this is what Love Is Actually.

Mixtures 2

It's a world where;
There are Blacks, 
And there are Whites-
A chemistry that lacks differences
A fabaceae-
Which spreads across the globe¤
A display of entities; 
Baked by the creator's ace
Until, 
Until actions cut across reactions; 
Leaving a union of separation
(amongst nations)¤
A colloidal suspension; 
Where unity-
Is at its melting point, 
Evaporating beyond any rating system
I've seen-
Welcomes welcomed by goodbyes¤
Shallow justice; 
Dipped into deep injustice¤
Trust blended by betrayal¤
Blames passed like footballs¤
A jar of lies;
Now left ajar-
As falsehood flows,
In the Island of Truth
It's a world where; 
The earth is the country, 
Of both the blacks and the whites
It's a world of mixtures

You Take Your Time

You take your time. You smile and wave but once You get home you know all is gonna change you grab your knife And you Cut yourself just once but you can"t stop and before you know it you have 12 more  down wrist. The pain still don't stop but the scares are now permanent and all you here is that your freak a useless nothing and you start to known its true so you finally have enough you make a final cut a cut across your throat with one finally word. Cared on to your arm  I'm the freak that's gone.

It's a Metaphor, Hazel Grace

Outside something creeps
In the rustling of the grass
And the crackling of the bushes
The moon licks its thumb
And turns the page
Of the next book
Humans can be so dull, you know?
 
Light spills into the cracks
Of the sidewalks the puddles
Shrivel up in the undying sun
And I am left with
Sunburnt trees
With their dying leaves
 
The struggle of making sense
To a dying people
Filled with cement
Too thick to cut across with
Sharp ideals
Being vague is only an option
Who else is left to save them

Venturing Out To the Ice

I skated around the rink
third day doing laps,
when my skates first hit the ice
and had myself a little mishap.

I did not let that stop me
got back up on my feet,
tried a hockey stick for balance
with the ice, my ass did greet.

I was able to skate a little faster
with every lap I made,
tried to get it into my head
that I shouldn't be afraid.

I was almost done for the day
wanted to make myself feel brave,
decided to cut across the middle
no boards around me to be saved.

I felt proud of myself today
but my legs still felt like jello,
still being too scared to fall
it'd be nice to finally be mellow.

Copyright Cynthia Jones
Nov.19/2015

• Short Cut Across Poems
• Famous Cut Across Poems
• Best Cut Across Poems
• Read Cut Across Poems
• Long Cut Across Poems
• Cut Across Quotes