Draw Back Poems | Examples

De la Huller

aqui mi dama
dio un paso al frente
en la a lo mas
otro lugar, mi dama
mi dama
mi dama
amar
to be loved
mi dama
mi dama
amar por ti

Here my lady
took a step forward
in the most
other place, my lady
my lady
my lady
to love
to be loved
my lady
my lady
to love for you

Some people love me
some can't stand it
when I'm happy
it's a draw back
some adore me
only for me to be
explopiuted
it's the truth
don't ignore it
it's a diference
tween just being
it's a truth thats
worth speaking
I'm in love
I'm in love
so in love
.....
no necesita
 masa de eneldo

Chess

It’s utterly broken, all of it, 
and I am left with so many of the pieces
 (weighing them about) 
and for the first time in my life I say,
 let it fall as it will. 
I am not the glue. 
Let the King draw back to his corner, 
the rook stand by, 
the knight be lost in turns, 
the queen lie in wait..
the pawns have retired, 
and my little bit upon the board? 
She has found repose in the farthest corner 
in what one would hope is hope, 
but a striker stands by and has no other move… 
so she waits for her end 
because it comes in every dream. 
No, she whispers.

Last Sunrise

They play with my dreams
Laughing at the bursting seams
As everything falls apart
Painting with the blood from my heart
Covering walls with my feelings
As I lay there dying and reeling
They said open your heart to be free
Holding in the twisted smile I now see
There is no basement for how low
They will inevitably like to go
So draw back all of the curtains
Because misery is served for certain
And as my thoughts are bickering
The lights above are flickering
At least let me see the sunrise
Before my final demise
A lifetime of mistakes and aches
I couldn't quite find the brakes
So as my spirit finally breaks
Surrounded by callous fakes
I'm not the only one crying
As I'm laying here dying
But their crocodile tears
Are slanted by sensational sneers
They play with my dreams
Laughing at the bursting seams
As everything falls apart
Painting with the blood from my heart
It's so ironic to finally find fame
When the credits roll on this sad game
Because I have been defeated and deleted
My soul depleted and good intentions cheated
But my echoing cries
Are greeted by one last sunrise

The Feeling of Being Alone

My grandson gave me this first line
and said write a poem about this.
Actually he was singing the first line.

nobody knows the feeling of being alone
nobody
but me, except
when I join the noisy crowd
still, even then
I’ve a feeling
that nobody knows
how obviously still
alone
and lonelier still
and sadder even
as the crowd
moves in claustrophobic circles
and I draw back
until a familiar voice
my own
dares to brave
a “hello”
dash a smile
at another lonely soul

Paean To Autumn

Draw back the curtains at your wake
To welcome in October
And heartily libation take
Lest the old crows find you sober

Invite your fond familiars in
Each cat and rat and magpie
Ignite your jack-o’-lantern grin
And kiss the moon at midnight

Fling far and wide your festive gold
Let no leaf go unvarnished
Stoke hearth and heart against the cold
Lest silver linings tarnish.

Drawing Breath

I draw a waking breath,
draw back sleeps curtains.

I'm drawing an image of myself
as a gray decay of distance,
a long swim away
from a day of youth,
where a boy once drew his name
into golden sands.

Sea shore, sea shores,
high-tides drawing ever nearer;
must I draw another dawn
onto a fast fading page

or shall I go open a window,
breath deep enough to clear my sight
of any more sinking life-rafts?

Bubble of Lost Dreams

With an arrow in the quiver

I aim my bow of instinct

Draw back slow, with intention I release


                     *pop*


Bursting the bubble of lost dreams

In hopes to awaken once again to

The journey of purpose

*Eagle Sun Ki*

Cupid Draw Back Your Bow

Cupid by Sam Cooke

Sparring

"Ki-Ahp!" I draw back my arm like a sword,
stepping back to challenge, before bracing forward.

Like weapons meeting, grunting lips clink,
each movement controlled, bodies never link.

Roundhouse kicks swing, kumgang punches pop.
Whirlwinds can be felt with each rapid chop.

Maneuvers are blocked with reflexes swift.
From side to side, back and forth we shift.

Rhythmically flowing like a rehearsed dance,
we give-and-take with each emboldened glance.

A stern whistle blows; we wipe our moist brows,
then respectfully shake hands, after our bows.


1-16-2023

Clouds Conceal the Pallid Moon

Draw back the drapes of those tenebrous clouds
for my eyes desire a glimmer of the pallid moon.
Sullen shadows of night, her beauty enshrouds.
Covering her faint glow is a sin, I dare impugn.

Lustrous is her light when emerged in the night,
as pale as the alabaster skin of my love's cheek.
A pearl in the sky.  Passion's flame she will ignite,
reflected across waters in an aura of mystique.

Without the moon, my soul would mourn, bereft.
Her splendor worthy of lyrics written in musical bars.
I would write a sonnet for her if my hand was deft.
Even though her hue is wan, she outshines stars.

I'll not weep for the moon while her light wanes.
I'm aware that it's just a phase, and soon will pass.
Then, comes the time when her luminance reigns
and billowed nimbus will turn aside for her.  Alas!

If overcast shadows choose to darken the skies
let them do so to offer shade from the sun's heat,
but never allow them to conceal from my eyes
the trysting place where the pale moon and I meet.


July 22, 2022
One In Five 2 Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
Phrase 4

A Dying Winter

The rain stopped,
Heavy bank of clouds remained,
Afternoon was dark until dusk,
No light to draw back the day,
A strong frost shock,
Gripping the land,

Unrelenting,
The trees fell silent,
Along the gullies and wet ditches,
A faint mist was rising,
Winter's last stand against spring,
The temperature descended,

The wood tightened against the cork,
As if the wasted wood might snap of the ground,
A fine crack froze over the dew pond,
The circle of the ice was finally closed.

The Last Crusade

Most of his mature life
had been a process of recoiling
and mending.

Until late
he had not suspected
that this prolonged retreat
had been his lot.

He thought he was building bricks,
constructing a living edifice
while in realty he was engaged
in an epic dismantling.

He thought he had made inroads,
woven together great journeys,
drawing to himself many pathways
toward a destination or purpose.

Yet of late, he felt
that his life had been a slow withdrawing,
a giving way
disguised as steps forward.

Despite this new understanding
he sensed a strange vindication,
as if it were more noble to give way
and draw back.

The battle at last lost,
the surrender acknowledged;

today he whistles a tune
that the thorn bushes sing
when a homeless wind
rattles through them.

The Magnificent Symphony

We are bespoke instruments of God
Breathing the glorious music of life into this world.
The sad notes, the angry chords, the joyful trills, the comical scales, the romantic melodies of love….
The strings of this heart, delicately plucked into song,
The keys of Grace played into this existence,
Touching souls,
Moving the veils of illusion.

The curtains draw back,
The orchestra revealed,
The show of remembrance begins, 
And God reveals the elegant dance of Truth.

Once seen, 
Once felt,
Once experienced,
The exquisite symbiosis,
The divine orchestration,
The tender revelations of the magnificent symphony of what we call life.

We are bespoke instruments of God breathing the glorious music of life into the world.
What tune will the Infinite conductor of all creation play next?

The Cross

"Draw back the curtain, peek past the smile
And from within the darkness growls the pain
Listen closely, hiding behind the laughter
As a single teardrop leaves it’s stain"

"While abundant and free for all
I struggle to grasp my share
I am screaming inside
While others go on without a care"

"My demons strangle like vines
Thorns drawing blood from their grip
I fear your glance will reveal the secret
That every shred of confidence has been stripped"

"What was once my altar
My sanctuary, my pride ...
With no warning and soulless indifference
Is now the prison I’m trapped inside"

"Life is no longer hallowed
As my reflection mockingly glares
Deeper and deeper into my soul
Sinks this cross that I must bear"

Beautiful Creation

I watch with excitement and joy
Ah! What a beauty!
What a splendid creation of God!

I stare at you unblinking
Your color, shape
curves of your body

I come closer
Gently caress your skin
Oh my! You are so soft and silken
I feel your skin against my cheeks
Joy wells up from within

I draw back, 
Scared I might hurt you
You are so delicate

I simply watch you
You sway and smile
Your pink nudity, 
enchanting
Mesmerizing

Joyous and blissful I wish
Your youth to remain forever
You should never wither

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
08.05.2021

Note: I am talking about a pink rose

Contest Name :The Most Beautiful Flowers You've Seen Blossoming This Spring So Far 
Sponsor : M. L. Kiser

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