Marbles Poems - Poems about Marbles

Lost in Marbles

I heard a song about a pretty bird.
As he flies, he clearly warbles,
the prettiest sound you ever heard.
Below, a boy has lost in marbles,

but he never said a word.
As he sits, the words he garbles,
Stranger things, you've never heard,
ever since he lost his marbles.

What even is this?

• Blazing hot ice
• Chilly open flames
• Animals wearing clothes
• Humans with no names
• Empty houses with legs
• Rats hatching from eggs
• Marbles from the water faucet
• Shucking pods and getting pegs in 

Marbles

I don't want to pay the price
of my own bad decisions
I wish I could run away
from this bad vision
I can't change nothing
I can't glue the divisions
so little is in my hand
to avoid the collision 

I don't want to pay this price
can you spare me the pain?
come down from the sky
and tell me we'll be ok
no

Losing My Marbles and Then Some

I scratched my head
    my brain fell out
  It ambled 'cross the table

  Stared at me
    most curiously, grinned ~
  Then pronounced me disabled

Marbles

"Marbles"

losing oneself
in the dance 
is like a game
of marbles 

snookered
you shoot 
the pot 
corner hole
unlit

never never 
give up 
it soon 
becomes 
the win 

when you 
lose 
your marbles
you're leagues 
way ahead

when they drop
you take the fall
there's only 
one way to go, and
that is up 

twister 
is not a game 

it’s not all 
that you’ve read
dance

Lost My Marbles

I seem to have lost my marbles 
I've looked high and low
Now I'm in a panic... 
Where did my marbles go? 

It wasn't very long ago 
That I thought I was switched on 
But I dropped the bag 
And now they have all gone 

I'm anxious to retrieve them 
If you see them let me

Mind Marbles

Racing, racing, racing…
Begins when the covers engulf me
In the lunar blackness
Where small sounds groan
Oh I’ve bested you, my friend!
Wait, that argument was four days ago
Fear, is death
For he who fails to
Act on ambition
Out of fear, dies
An inch with each waning
The Marble Faun
How did Faulkner conjure such
A picturesque title?
But what does it mean?
Racing, racing, racing…
Few hundred

Marbles

I remember shooting marbles during recess time.
There were puries, tiny worlds of milky blindedness.
Big heavy steelies, bearings from salvaged, derelict machines,
Hematite cores of some new known planets.
And cats' eyes with color-filled center swirls.

I horded them in a sweat darkened leather pouch.
A drawstring puckered shut this purse's mouth.
Sanctioned by an adult playground guard:
Risking all for a

Billy Carts and Marbles

Billy Carts and Marbles

Yes, we all played marbles when we were just kids,
Had a big ‘Tom Bowler’ and a bag full of migs.
Held onto your marble with fingers and thumb
No fudging allowed, and your eye was the plumb.
Picked out your opponent and stayed on the line,
Connect with a’ kisser’ that marbles now mine.

I also had

Marbles

Bright shiny new marbles, we knew just what to do 
Bro and I slid them on the floor as the door went smack clickety clack 
we just laughed and rolled some more...
The year was 1967 and the colors in our head had wit and sparkle 
we rolled them in the heel of our hand 

Marbles

marbles 
in centrifugal spin
quasar

Stars As Cat Eye Marbles

Celestial chandeliers, strung aloft the Milky Way
Aligning as constellations, invisible by light of day
Torches burning, that the sun prevents us to behold

Earth's luminaries ignite as dusk begins to unfold
Yielding glitter more lustrous than flecks of feldspar
Evoking optimistic wishes from those near or far

Magnificently they sparkle on a black background
Alight are these orbs,  as jewels

The Friendly Stranger At Orange Street

One day at a New york city shop,
I met a man selling marbles,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some barbels.

"Got any barbels?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No barbels here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.

"We've got some lovely cakes,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather

Your Eyes Are Like Magic Marbles

Your Eyes Are Like Magic Marbles

Your eyes are like magic marbles 
made of blue sky madness,
they draw my sharpest senses inward
rendering me helpless to your red devouring lips,
which pucker with a blinding instinctive intensity, 
as with silent snakes seeking a cooler ground, 
hidden inside a hotbed of conniving bulrushes;
your perfumed presence bringing out deliriously
a powerful

Los Marbles

polishing pieces
                               fragments of a broken brain

                  

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