Cute Poems | Examples of Cute Poetry

Moment No 1 HER POV

I only need about $8 of gas
Enough to get home and get back to work the next day
I’m tired and don’t feel like waiting for the tank to fill up
Of course, I have to go inside because the card reader is being dumb
Usually, I would just leave but I’m too tired to care
I’m walking inside

Lovers

rosy

cozy

A Pub Halfway to the Heavy Affair

The largest part of this abandoned warehouse

for creative dilemma is still in the ash medium

from you reach.

Though you’ve part of this morning haze that won’t go unrecognized.

Now that we’ve finally managed to right away ahead of our views across the bridge, it seems that elsewhere you’ve made every effort to prove yourself with your wrongly

Soundtrack

Before the sun goes down on my eyes,
And sleep should rise to life,
Here’s what I would say,
Bringing into light:

This heart of mine, this vessel,
Is pouring out, like sweating;
She’s very much a blessing,
Dressed in black; Her complexion,

To perfection, without question,
She’s a beautiful woman;
Is my heart like a flood,
Or field of blood?
Aceldama –

So Many Choices, Coincidentally

      By the bye or by the way
        either one I never say 
 
      I choose to use ‘incidentally’ 
        anyway or accidentally

Hiku: cool kiss of life

your °c°•o°•o°•l° k~i~s~s of l"i"f"e
my lips crave it d
                            e
                  

Rhetorical Somethings And Nothings

Somewhere there’s a
sunflower poking out from
the corner of a concrete
barrier, going unnoticed
by everyone except
myself.

And it makes
me wonder:

They say when
you fall in love with
an artist, you
can never die.

But what
happens when
an artist falls
in love? Do
they continue
capturing futures,
or only retrospective
moments?

Time is an old
concept—or shall
I say, odd?

Because
I see you in soft shadows
and storefront glass, in
wilted flowers I forget to
water,

All Of The Little Things Our Little Brains Choose To Remember For A Short Little While

Isn’t it odd?
All of the little things
that remain in our
little brains?

One day, you’ll
be walking down the
street, just minding your
own business, when suddenly
you’ll stop.

A sight,
A sound,
A scent,
A memory,

Something you have
never seen, heard, smelt,
or even experienced before
will catch your incomplete attention
so completely.

And send you to
the most magical of
places.

Something from your
childhood,

Something from the
small town you drove through
last autumn.

Something

The Wine-Bearer

Thy loosen'd tresses and thine eyes so blest,
Thy stately form with wine-cup at thy breast.

Since time began, no mortal yet hath seen
A heavenly nymph of such celestial mien.

'Tis dawn—seize now the fortune of this hour,
Lest like an arrow shot, thou lose thy power.

For love of union, heart and faith are lost,
And feet are torn by

The Beloved's Dominion

From all the fair ones thou hast stolen light,
And thou didst think upon thy captive's plight.

My heart was darker than the night so deep,
Till sudden light did chase the shadows' sleep.

A hundred strifes arose from thy bright eyes,
And suddenly thou didst sleep ’neath quiet skies.

From whom shall I seek cure, when all my pain is

Desert of Love

Before thee, flowers hold no grace,
Where ruby shines not as the lips' own face.

Though flawed, yet thoughts of union dwell,
I seek a lover, whose beauty casts its spell.

From patient heart, my steadfast will thou took’st,
And suddenly alone, my soul thou forsook’st.

Within love’s desert I wander lost, my dear,
And from thy thorny grief my feet are

The Alchemist's Lament

I spake: "Thy love's grief dwelleth in my core,
A breast brim-full with sorrows, evermore.

So long as in my head thy tumult lies,
Vain phantasies I bear, by nights, by sighs.

An hundred years have flown, yet not thy grace;
Save grief of parting, naught is my embrace.

In vigil lone, my heart with blood was stained,
By rival's tyranny, in

The Cunning Idol

They say that love is stripped of truth, but vain,
A tale retold, a sorrow’s old refrain.

Yet thou alone my heart in bondage keep,
Thy form in every realm my soul doth steep.

To snare the cunning idol few are fain,
For she is not a toy for market’s gain.

Thy street proclaims my name, yet none bestow
Thy union sweet,

The Falconer's Prey

If weary my heart should thy secret betray,
Or lay bare to all what within me doth stay—

Till voices from unseen in my song shall rise,
One breath I become thy companion true.

No prey like to thee may the falconer claim,
And if I be lost, none bringeth my name.

Last night no tidings of thee came to me,
Nor

Whiskers On Kittens

Precious kittens move my heart -
I’ve known this since small.
Whether still or in crazed dart,
they enthrall my all.
Silk furs, whiskers, purrs -
all make resistance depart
while cat love occurs.

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