Preemptive Poems | Examples

Honey Moon is Brilliantly Blue

What is something blue; the bride will tuck away her someday
in her til-death-do-they-part bouquet-distillation.
—by poet

Light up the darkness with star sound.
honey moon, round,
brilliantly blue -
preemptive view.
Sound of the sky, lights up bride’s gown;
blessings flow down.
Black rose, of groom,
forever bloom
in a silver-moonshine bouquet.
It’s bride’s someday
and her groom’s plight -
round-robin rite.

The Preemptive No

Before you ask

The answer is no

I will never surrender courage

For a place of defeat and storage

I will not abandon faith

For a worthless attachment to an uncertain estate

I refuse to relinquish love

For a well-fitted but counterfeit glove

I cannot renounce my goal

For a destination that ambushes my true role

I will not forsake confidence

For a river that runs with polluted opulence

I refuse to discard determination

For a chance to keep company with resignation

I dare not part with humility

For a life that grants honor to futility

Before you ask

Rest assured the answer is no

A Glimpse Into the Past Or Future

There's a vision I keep having.
I am horizontal in the garden, 
eager blades of grass tickle my chin.
I stare, eyes closed, feeling
each pen stroke paint my skin.

Etching preemptive epitaphs
for family friends I just saw
yesterday. When I awake, moments
before the alarm clock,
I check myself for evidence.

I find it just behind my eyelids,
"Life is no way to treat an animal"
inscribed on thirty tombstones,
each one sun-wrecked, time-worn
and still warm to the touch.

Fallen Below Beams of Hope

When thou look upon mountains
Bereaved in nonchalant fountains
With eyes that devour while haunting
Enchanted by seemingly mysterious daunting
In tempest rages of furious bubbles
Heart swings toward preemptive muddles
Dominantly swerving on to thick ends
Chugging chunks off of mighty bends

How art thou fallen below beams of hope 
Zealously rummaging in packs of dope
Where fondest thoughts of feels remain
In dreams of dashing bouts of domain
What sails sea washes through
Rivers of sweet tide borough
Diverting gaze with wishes that draw
Favour in times of numerous straw

Chaos of unexpected turn awaits
With weary momentum of rejected baits
Charades engulfed deep within
In an atmosphere of storming thin
Encased in a feeling of dredge
When thy heart falls over the ledge
Knowing paramount truth in life's fall 
Is to live where no zeal exists at all

Not a Futile Dream

I have a dream
Where flower petals will rain 
On the world, stitching
With the others in their fall
A garland that the rain angels
In their awe and reverence
W'd drape around the world
For standing up in unity
Against Coronavirus ferocious 
The multi corned devil
Which has woefully bedeviled 
The billions of people lives
Lined up for survival in a battle epic  
That has thwarted the human brain
Stretching it to its last neurons
And taking a heavy toll on lives
Emotionally in tatters
And economically in ruins.

Trampled under the devil's feet
And devastated by its preemptive strike 
Fear not the human race 
You will live to take this fight
To another day, trust me
There will be a new dawn, it will be yours
When this malady ghastly you will put 
On the run and in banishment,
The world will recede no further
Let tears of grief flow in abundance
In memory of our unforgotten souls
Who checkmated by fate 
Waited for death in isolation, which 
Denied them a say to a final goodbye
To their kins before passing away,
And in memory of thousands few, who 
Fighting hard to push the calamity back
Fell down fighting their last war.

East Devon Beacon

East Devon Beacon
by Michael R. Burch
 
Evening darkens upon the moors,
Forgiveness?a hairless thing
skirting the headlamps, fugitive.
 
Why have we come,
traversing the long miles
and extremities of solitude,
worriedly crisscrossing the wrong maps
with directions
obtained from passing strangers?
 
Why do we sit,
frantically retracing
love’s long-forgotten signal points
with cramping, ink-stained fingers?
 
Why the preemptive frowns,
the litigious silences,
when only yesterday we watched
as, out of an autumn sky this vast,
over an orchard or an onion field,
wild Vs of distressed geese
sped across the moon’s face,
the sound of their panicked wings
like our alarmed hearts
pounding in unison?

Keywords/Tags: East, Devon, Beacon, England, Moors, Forgiveness, Maps, Miles, Lost, Directions, Compass Points, Moon, Geese, Lights, Headlights, Headlamps, Fugitive

My Prayer For Today

My Prayer For Today
7/22/2019
Written: by Miracle Man

Lord, guard my tongue in things I say,
Let your son Jesus be my light today.

Let each of my thoughts rest solely on HIM,
From the brightening hour until growing dim.

Then at such time when I become tempted,
Just render those thoughts, as preemptive.

For I’ve little ability that’s of my own,
And will be accountable for seeds I’ve sown.

AMEN

Selected Poem of The Day On Poetry Soup
July 22, 2019

Proper P Poem Prevailing Presently

Professor Petal, one of Patrick’s prolific pals,
Professed he had a Pollyanna Predisposition
Properly pronouncing pronouns without perky p’s.
A pithy proclivity, providing pollution to Professor Petal’s pronunciations.

Prissy Professor Patty from Prestigious Prussian Planet Philisophi-university,
Precariously prickled, privately at Professor Petal’s Pronoun-predicament.
Prissy Patty promptly planned a plane trip to Professor Petal’s Pre-existing pub.
Where placidly placed, Professor Petal, prevailed as President of Porous Pool Table Pro.

Privacy prevailed, as Professor Patty, presently at Pub, perceived Professor Petal.
Prissy Patty, partook of Paradise Pop-In-Pink Parboils, as she patty-caked in the pub.
Prissy Patty was soon pretty Patty, and Petal took her home, a primed and perfect professor.
Plenty of preemptive laughs prevailed, as they both wondered what pronoun begins with a P anyway?

The Phases of Grief

THE PHASES OF GRIEF
bereavement pain physical
spiritual and philosophical 

SHOCK & DENIAL
can’t find relief
overwhelming numbed disbelief

PAIN & GUILT
unbearable preemptive suffering 
remorseful chaos excruciating

ANGER & BARGAINING
growing bitter frustration 
time rewinding negotiation

DEPRESSION & REFLECTION
grieving bitter loneliness
memories filling emptiness

THE UPWARD TURN
adjusting calmer living
affliction less unforgiving

RECONSTRUCTION & WORKING THROUGH
willingness to survive
becoming functionally alive

ACCEPTANCE & HOPE
handling new reality
reinventing integral repartee




Submitted on October 8, 2018 for contest SIX-WORD COUPLET SERIES ENCORE sponsored by MARK TONEY  -  RANKED 1ST

A Twin Fireless Room

The hearts that do not beat
Quiet in the viaduct;
        A steeled echo husked
Alchemic clones vastly entreat.

I slipped you a talking pill
As the loam, pulsing dust of cars
Filled up on dark shofars.
       I slip on an unwritten will.

Eerie green bolts fill the firmament;
   Arbor confusion hangs an effigy
       Inviting the serial hinterlands decree
To dream green seals the parchment.

The serrated squid with a man's face
Opens its serpent eyes, preemptive;
       Swamp spirits deliberate a redemptive
blue hesper corroding Man's one race.

I am Electricity—I laugh at thunder
Bellowing at my helm, unaware
That electricity is not all I share
With my unseen body: Heark Asunder.

Gryphons, gargoyles and cornsilk eyes
        Trifecta on the organ: my song
Of deafness slides into deep wrong,
As a wish to eradicate all a wish denies.

Our hearts unlocked that haste to bleed
inky filth in the sleeping bag,
        plush lips imparting terror gag
at pitch-lit bones' fireless greed.

I Feel

I feel like I am bleeding on the inside.
I can’t drive down the highway without my thoughts replaying your words.
How dare you assume I would wander away,
So you wandered away in a preemptive strike.
You killed us
And dumped me into the ‘friend zone’.
“I miss you,” I say.
“There is nothing to miss,” you say.
I cannot battle indifference.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
More bleeding on the inside.
You were the one who first came to me
Begging me to take you into my life
Asking for my trust
Hanging out where I hang out.
Now I feel like I’m trying to hang on to a ghost.
And I bleed inside
Dying a little more each day
Bleeding in places no one can see
I’d rather have a drag out fight 
With yelling and swearing rather than this
This insipid ghosting of emotions
I say I should leave you alone and stop torturing you
You tell me I am only torturing myself
I see I cannot torture a heart that is already dead to me.

Preemptive Worrying

My specialty
always be prepared
worst case scenarios
rigorously examined
contingencies prepared
when possible
but there are so many
for which there is
no solution
leading to dread
leading to panic
leading to relief
when
nothing
happens

Three Going On Four

Raising light and reversing diffident order,
Proves a puzzling endeavor in noble modes—
Its compulsive plume wafts over the boarder,
Laid low and beholden to rebellion in codes.
Show me your values! Your colors are clear!
Your preemptive ‘no’ leaves you future regret—
Substance would make your defiance sincere,
And you haven’t shown any signs of that yet.
So listen, my son, as I walk you through Hell—
For my father once made me angry as well.

When Your Voices Stop

When your voices stop
does the music stop, too?
When outside voices stop
can you hear stars sing
inside?

Does star song
deeply resonate with you
too?

When your WinLose tragic investments stop
does our WinWin comic co-opera begin
too?

When our WinWin cooperative investments flow
do your therapeutic climax outcomes
ease on down a more resiliently compassionate
Golden Rulish kinda' road?

When you step outside at night
plant yourself on Earth
look up at sparkling shared starlight,
can you hear star songs echoing inside
outside?

When I step outside at night
and the voices stop
I can hear their resonating understory,
variations on time's revolving EarthSound.

Can you hear more clearly
what has become us all along
too?

Star song memories
in dancing liturgical light
singing out preemptive resonance, 
step one
and hopeful two.

Lost In Translation

Reading by the lines, one by one
Evidenced on those skid marks left
A bitter aftertaste, beyond
goes the winding path right ahead

What led this outrage, travesty?
Swept sanity with tragedy
O’er the hedge up to no man’s land
Places that gets one out of hand

A four letter word defined despair
Others called it an outbreak, plague
yet some being spared by a hair
but most were left alone and vague

It’s been a struggle upon death
like life being bullied in the edge
Such fairytale told in great length
With no other cue when it’ll end

Here goes below downward spiral
Love just dragged you deep underground
When all is lost, the outcome’s final,
a broken heart you had just found

There goes, “Damn you do, damn you don’t,”
a double-bladed tongue swordplay
waiting for a preemptive strike
then suddenly, gave up the fight

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