Long Gracelessly Poems
Long Gracelessly Poems. Below are the most popular long Gracelessly by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Gracelessly poems by poem length and keyword.
Winter marches south
blanketing the world in frost
every time you turn to walk away.
Volleys of arrows from
your eyes stop the sun
from thawing out my hands.
The words roll from your tongue
to he seas teeming
with aliens, buckling
my legs as I sleepwalk on deck.
The gates slam their iron
spikes into my side as you
push away with hands pink
as embarrassment.
The birds fall from perches
in the clouds, tumbling gracelessly
when you close the door
behind you and the
doorknob burns my hand
as I try to breach the house
you’ve set aflame.
The conflagration spirals upward
and the searing current takes
you home, alone.
In the endless ether wander aimlessly,
Words and images dying gracelessly
They were creations fondly reared
But on the net they disappeared.
Heartbroken and bereft,I do recall
That one did try Raphael to enthrall
In my feebly frail effort to outline
What poetry and painting do define.
The other did lightly glance at the naming of the parts,
More venereal ,rather than the military arts.
Lovingly it was my wish them to draw
To fill my reader with a sense of awe.
My one fond hope is they can truly be found
To complete the corpus of my writing round.
Should you know where they might be
What great joy that would bring to me.
just sitting outside
chewing on this gum till i cramp up
the stress of going through it with you is making me drown in my own flatulence
i can barely walk, and i feel myself sinking without the help of feeling
then the tears come
i collapse gracelessly, and then the fears come
every catalog in the library of me contains information that is unmarked
here i am with a million footprints all over until an adequate description of tattoo tattletale
love was supposed flow flawlessly in flamboyant flight
love was supposed to be the epitome of fascinating free fall
however love has left me....just sitting outside
out goes the man, and in comes the boy who cries when he does not get his way
i sit indian style on the damp grass like i am playing duck duck goose
i do not know if i will ever stand up again
you see, i was standing at my most erect when you were here as wood to the fireplace of my life
however here i am like repetitive clockwork....just sitting outside
pretending your butt is strategically warming a particular area acting as a sleep aid
the pain of going through it makes me want to put my hand on your heart and stomp you to the ground
however i walk away from this unnecessary scenario in my head
instead i pick myself up off of this damp grass and drag my pathetic self....back to you....
when i get back home i find you sulking with another dose of smeared makeup teardrop coffee....just sitting around