Short Aped Poems
Short Aped Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Aped by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Aped by length and keyword.
Soul is aped disease.
Fall irritated at night!
Heart is a journey.
Heard around kiss printed out.
Kept widening on your cheek.
Sammi is a delicate blossom frolicking in gayest blooms,
Analogous to a fragile rose amidst world’s boring dooms;
Manifold lusters issue forth from her magnanimous heart,
Manifesting the rare glamor fair flowers show only in part,
Imitating with aped arts her truer merits in borrowed spurt!
Mary`s little house; no shed of prayer,
But a doll`s church with a small roof aped
and bricked as a church
Somewhere in nowhere; ready for the corn
and heavy nailed boots that bend in prayer;
iron and thick black paint,
Only the flowers in the jam jar are wilted,
The chapel is older than the crop`s hope,
new as the day is older.
Once a flower child
Always a Moon Child
Generations of Cancerians
Have aped the crab with tenacity
Large eyes and agility
Moving side-to-side silently
Moody on mournful days
Joyful in the sunlight
Giver of love
Taker of wise advice
Domestic yet athletic
Contraditions abound
For crazed moon children
Who beam and fade periodically
*July 13, 2014 (one day before this Moon Child’s birthday)
AnthroPoids
standing tall
on both unlikely hind feet
Are a great aped longing
to belong
Without getting down
on all four transportive limbs
Stretching down
and dusking in
ReImagining
another dawning day
empowering
and enlightening
mind's embodied sacred life
In and out
for and of
vulnerably wise
and transparently healthy
communion circles
EarthPassioned AnthroPoids
dancing in tall circles
singing up and out
from both hind feet.
In the wilderness, my cry
Echoes back at me:
My poetry wanes.
And sinks into oblivion
Like the thousand and one discordant notes
That issues out of my braying mouth.
Where are you now, Wordsworth?
Are you vibrating in agony
In a spineless, sunless world?
Would that I had your fervour now.
Has it been murdered too?
Only my playful fancies now are aped
I live in this stifling modern world.
And infection is all around.
The muse has taken a vacation.