Foreground Poems | Examples

White

I am the alabaster moon hanging low upon the snow tipped mountains
I am the pearl laced purity of a Winter day of ivory fashion
I am the melocholy melodies of a crystalline canvas pleading to a virgin rose of love
I am the light of a new day placed upon the blank page of the purest inspiration
I am a shooting star in the foreground of the endless galaxy of dream

Self-Portrait with Flightless Bird

I gave myself the body
of a secretary bird—
long legs like accusations,
a face too sharp for comfort.

But wings? I borrowed
from a taxidermied dodo:
soft, irrelevant,
stitched to the wrong century.

In the background,
a sky I did not earn.
In the foreground,
a foot poised to crush a snake
that looks suspiciously like me.

ClouDrive

Wolf.
Puma.
Long-necked (or was it
long-bodied?)
Dragon.

Forest...Fire.

A Bunny, cute -
and on its back.

A Bounding Fox
with Seaspray Fluff
of Following Tail. 

A long-nosed Fellow
bearing bulbous eyes;
grown wider with surprise
at the Cloudball gone:
teetering off from said
Nose.

A Wingsuit Aerialist
falling bellylong into
greens below.  Laughing. 

An Otter, now -
popped up from (,some-
how,) a Prairie Dog’s hole.
Over the Water Gap.

A profile, of
a Presence’s Silouhette
but with lip backlit...
and Chin.  About to 
Smile in the foreground
of...a

...Waterfall of Light.

Curiously, a Bighorn Seahorse Sheep.

I drive. 
Press on. 
I drive. 
Look up. 
I drive. 

Clouds drift.  I drive.

Ink Blots

In the foreground of a dream, you stood before me, confessing your singular misstep.
Behind you, were two images. As only my subconscious mind could decipher, then conveyed to me.
Only the words lingered. They toppled down from your careless mouth, falling towards the ground beneath your unsteady gait, as you paced to and fro; much like a cornered animal.
For months I revisited that dream. Still, I found no answer to the question I asked of you.
You claimed to have committed the act only one time.
All my good senses tell me your heroes lived on death row
Mother’s are to blame for the role you played in the demise of so many.

Ink Blots was the foreground of this dream. Escaping me so obviously.
So now I must wait as they build a case.

Death of an artist

“Normality is a paved road: It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.”
Quote by - Vincent Van Gogh
-------------------------------------------------------------------

Well aware of art, seeing star-lit, deep-blue sky
High above the ripples of Rhine
A delicate one chose a brush to bring it down
to a canvas, working with hues
painting stars and man-made yellow jets of city lights
descending to green reflected blaze, reflecting
not stars, but brutal city-lights
Two human figurines stroll love in the foreground

Gogh's sensitive symmetry gave
half the canvas to earth, other half to the sky

Deceptive tastes of fickle world
Failed artistic symmetry, Failed gentle artist
Stealing sky above Gogh's fixed gaze
Mortals took too long a time to appreciate
Starry Night Over the Rhône

Tired Gogh's 37 year old hands
Wilfully shot his sympathetic genial heart
Hands that never quivered even
While painting water, shivered at uncertainty
Rushed to find peace below brown earth

Green-Browed Mountains

Seven days in the green-browed mountains
time slowly retreated to the horizon
sun casually took to the foreground
weather was always a foothill or two behind.
moon sighed into its gloaming.

Seven days inhaling green- browed mountains
wildflower sashayed into the veins
no migraine-no chain of cars
no barbed wire news or plastic drama
no carbon monoxide dreaming...
a bumblebee made a path for my eyes.


Seven days devouring green- browed mountains, 
Like a bronzed faced kitten I napped beside a stream.
Didn't see God but I know he saw me.

Seven days fasting in green-browed mountains. 
A spirit Half cleansed in the sheen of brevity.
Tomorrow, I return to the grey-eyed flats 
Into the padded infirmary of puppets and madmen.

Signals

It is interesting how TV commercials,
are now more vacuous, more entertaining,
more unconvicting, more annoying than ever,
yet
he was often in-the-thrall of
their invasive noise
it was a background,
mid-ground,
and foreground,
unintelligible babble,
but
when he turned off the plasma visions
he realized
that they were a tonal band-aid
over his own mind-chatter;
now his self-talk had to turn up its volume
to compensate
for the dead-air space
that would rushes inward
to fill the sudden void.
He had to retreat into that place he was
before
he switched off the screen.
Most of the shows and news programs
were still pointless inane gaps
between the hard sell,
but
something like an elephants ear
spun around in his brain
picking up extra celestial signals
from this alien world
which strangely enough
comforted him.

Pheasant Suppers

He reassured with a kiss
                                 And sorted out
                                   The Details
Persian Cat and the
Humming bird
Watches the flowers
Swaying in the garden.
Sweet nectars shall
Awaking her to be natural
Once again, but now they
stand together in awe!

           Adagio Crescendo was introduced to
Fugue Crescendo at a time when her
name was Fugue Verse. They meet
In a little town named Bridge and began
corresponding and became engaged.
They became Cantar and Cantrix , there
In Bridge. Louvers Lyrics united them in
A contractual concept. They joined the
very popular concept orchestra "Genre"
and sang background- ooh-ahs and foreground
Hooks prechoral and choral. Meeting Choral
Made me happy. Where nights and mornings
Lovers are we. Cantrix, I love you. Cantar I love you to. Some might this is an overture with concerns to boredum. Look to the one you love and say we will endure. Mr Adlib do your thing
make it right. Sweet get this man to sing: Cantrix you
know this is a lovers night.Got me saying: and I ain't playing Mister Counter Bass do your thing. Alto please bring me
to my knees, love get me all Kissy Phaced.

Pheasant Suppers

He reassured with a kiss
                                 And sorted out
                                   The Details


           Adagio Crescendo was introduced to
Fugue Crescendo at a time when her
name was Fugue Verse. They meet
In a little town named Bridge and began
corresponding and became engaged.
They became Cantar and Cantrix , there
In Bridge. Louvers Lyrics united them in
A contractual concept. They joined the
very popular concept orchestra "Genre"
and sang background- ooh-ahs and foreground
Hooks prechoral and choral. Meeting Choral
Made me happy. Where nights and mornings
Lovers are we. Cantrix, I love you. Cantar I love you to. Some might this is an overture with concerns to boredum. Look to the one you love and say we will endure. Mr Adlib do your thing
make it right. Sweet get this man to sing: Cantrix you
know this is a lovers night.Got me saying: and I ain't playing Mister Counter Bass do your thing. Alto please bring me
to my knees, love get me all Kissy Phaced.

Human Being As Pattern

I
What grabs human attention?
The same things that bats & birds attend
"What's moving," not what's at peace, still
"The dangers," not the rest of vast sea
"Foreground," not Foundations, 'background'
So too, with space and sky, we see light, not space

II
Like bat, bird, tables - we are molecules
Molecular structure cannot be The Human
Though we share chemicals, particles, atoms
The You is a pattern, recognized even as U grow
Change your body, hair, teeth, face, inside weekly
The waves that oscillate as your life, is You
Not your beautiful face or height, or smile. Smile!

Hound Most Renowned Nursery Rhyme

A man, quite renowned, came into our town;
He tried to expound on matters profound.
He frowned when he found as he tried to expound:
drowned by the sound of a hound in the town.

This was indeed a hound most renowned!
The sound from this hound, when on a rebound,
knocks a man down in a mound on the ground.

He looked all 'round: northbound, southbound, eastbound, westbound.
Nowhere he looked could that loud sound be found:
the fairground, the playground, the foreground, the background.
Finally he found himself down at the pound.

A foxhound, a coonhound, a bloodhound, a greyhound:
all of these hounds could be found at the pound,
but none of the hounds made that kind of sound.

A boy came around and said while he frowned,
his puppy was wound up, would not settle down.

"Your little dog too! Ha, ha," he clowned.
A little chihuahua made all of that sound?
Well, he dropped his jaw when he heard the chihuahua.
Now, he expounds on this hound most renowned.
----------


For the Nursery Rhyme 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
Written on 04/14/2022

Weasel - Nursery Rhyme

Weasel was wiser than a coonhound
She weighed one pound, a foxhound
Traveled the campground and playground
Searched the fairground and all around
A sleuthhound, she would turnaround
Looking earthbound for something profound
On the rebound, her heart would confound
In the foreground was her hunting ground
She would often bum around and mess around
Searching the battleground for common ground
Renowned for her wisdom, though uncrowned
She took a ultrasound so she could stick around
Even going underground in the burial mound
Riding the merry-go-round so she could hang around





Nursery Rhyme 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
April 14, 2022

Tranquillity

TRANQUILITY

figurative
 permanent
a silent
meditation
   for a
nuanced trauma

a spacious
   view
offsetting
   the decorative
 patterns
undulatng
expressive
yet mundane
  concerns without pity
an idyllic
   luminosity
in the
foreground
space in
   harmony

THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived

Look At Me

Golden hues spill like paint into the yard
One by one, a leaf slowly floats down 
Joining the others, spread out on the lawn
As if to celebrate a woven blankett, of color
Before time quickly brings wrinkle to it
The gray and white sky is hardly noticeable
As the large trees show off their new colors
Look at me! Look at me! Shining brightly!
They fill the air, take over foreground, a must see!

Heidi Sands

10/10/21

Bliss Tremor

Bliss tremor, a constant current
Humming in the background 
Love expressing it’s sentiment
Rising to the foreground 

Ours, if we but allow
Cadence of joy follow
In staid stillness mellow

Soft murmur
Bliss tremor

02-October-2021

• Short Foreground Poems
• Famous Foreground Poems
• Best Foreground Poems
• Read Foreground Poems
• Long Foreground Poems
• Foreground Quotes