Short Arranges Poems
Short Arranges Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Arranges by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Arranges by length and keyword.
Coughing here and there
Sick and in pain from last night
Sleep is all I want
A bright red sunrise
Filled with beauty and delight
Arranges my heart with hope
Not having a dog, he hunts with a cat
not having a cat, arranges another pet
without a pet he hunts with his duck,
without duck he should chuck?
NO,Finally he takes a gun to shoot!
Our
Hostess
Committee,
comprised mostly
of women, makes sure
the kitchen is stocked with
supplies, arranges and serves
meals for major church events and
bereaved families. Last, we clean up.
We serve cheerfully, for we feel honored.
The bond of hearts in fervor
Arranges love to continue the silver
Fleets of night, the time is right
We have wandered the trenches of life
Garnering distant prose to capture headlines
Flowers flown by the seagulls of change
Movements emerge suddenly
Their thrust an unknown settling
In winter, nothing gives.
The tree holds tightly to
its fistful of sky
while the wind arranges
and rearranges
some leaves
at the entrance to the Tuileries,
always seeking
a different disorder.
First published in NOON: Journal of the Short Poem, Issue 14, August 2019
Surely would come those days
Of rain,
Endless;
At the midnight, still
In the moon light, Songs would start again,
you and me
Would bathe together
until our eye-balls grow red
And our heads turn green;
It's the nature who arranges everything
Slow but quicken
Have not noticed thee?
Let's start singing
Again!
Rainbow adorns the sound mountain ranges
Sky, like moods of minds, so often changes
Ambiance, with flowers, scent exchanges
Rainbow adorns the sound mountain ranges
Freeing the breeze, winds blow around granges
Time in hearts of vales flowers arranges
Rainbow adorns the sound mountain ranges
Sky, like moods of minds, so often changes
06 July 2021
Life is full of changes, re-arranges and people.
coming into this life unaware of what is to come of you.
not even knowing what life means.
be open to new ideas.
be open to change.
be aware of the options before you.
be aware of yourself and know how capable you are.
you can be successful and accomplish many things.
you are important.
you are special.
you are amazing.
Sometimes it's hard to welcome changes
And learn the art of letting go;
It's only fortune that arranges
And doesn't even let me know.
I need the key to solve the riddle
And make the scattered pieces fit;
I'm stuck somewhere in the middle
Between your truth and my deceit.
The answer's got, yet I'm not trying
To find the question that relates;
Escapism of my denying
Reveals the World Oblivion's gates.
Male bowerbird has a unique courting power.
Builds a bower from dried leaves and grasses.
Arranges beautiful objects in front of his bower.
Female bowerbirds tour several dwellings, swinging their asses.
When the female decides on a mate, she moves in.
Showing off her newfound pretty objects of blue.
Yes, all of the decorations put out by her new “him”
Had to be of that particular color and hue.
This is how the heart arranges
He doesn't stay nowhere nomore
We thought that the heart is kind
But it makes the life ardours
Believe someone for a moment
Uncertainty creates that guy
Who will see tomorrow?
Everyone greets his aim today
World has efficient skills
It works to change the heart
But no one has skills
To change thinking of someone
Imran what do you think a heart
It is a ruler who enslaves everyone
a lost girl arranges in her room
her dress with stillness,
she pushes her tongue
against small kitten teeth,
outside the lift groans and bangs,
lights burn shapes
of flats and stairs;
this is a place to circle in;
to return to,
never to leave
she is sediment, a line of ash,
a failed escapee
an unknown language from a distant past
carved into stone , are symbols to outlast
an uncommon language that goes thru changes
mistranslations , which re-arranges
an aspect of truth , an aspect love
an aspect of time , an aspect of space
as if fitting a round peg in a square hole
a puzzle piece that just won't go .
symbols and markers ,
are the silent language of the ancients
we just don't hear the wind blowing .
A canvas of woe
The pen, a useless shard, lies still and cold.
In this abyss of sorrow, my heart grows old.
Bent and broken branches, unable to climb,
Withering drops of sunshine melt away in song
Beneath the moon's patterned, muted light,
An endless battle arranges an orchestrated plight...
Goodnight, my sweet love, for doom's destined despair
Has left a poet's song without reprieve nor care
Worthlesslessness
Depression and worthlessness of life has come to me
She seldom arranges the bouquets in the guest room
She makes the smile appear less often
She seems to be resigned to lose at love
She understands the need of love she understands me
She turns it on and off
Eye no longer have a worth in me to live for
A reason to exist in song is gone
It no longer has to work at all
Eye am ruined and undone
Eye gave it to her all
To Speak
To refuse silence,
To allow the words out.
Words bounce around in my head
Like puzzle pieces mixed up in a box.
Game is to put them in the right order.
Except when it's not.
Sometimes the heart takes over.
Arranges words neatly in a row.
Then all I have to do is put pen-to-paper.
And let the words flow, I'll let the words flow.
This piece is for a contest on another site,
but I liked it so well had to share it here too.
Bricks of lavender
a palindrome of gentleness
across the unburdened lea
Autumn softly blowing down
from cirrus magnets drawn
to cosmic ore
Saddled to the conscience of
the heartland, a secret fells
what few aged oaks remain
No history holds words to make
reprieve for so sinister an act upon
the blooms and seeds
Haste arranges memory so as to
germinate, replacing the departed
'fore ever whispering lavender stems
relate the reins of fate upon the plains
An elderly man's wife dies.
You have seen it before,
you can tell what will happen next.
He will recline in the home
that she wove around him.
Some warmth remains
to pad carpet slippers and housecoats.
The cat will always be
the shadow of her hand.
He is a watcher
not at the funeral or the cemetery
but from the other side of a bed.
He arranges things
then puts them back the way they were.
He places sepia moments
back into a shoe box
that she has provided.
The day slowing
Sky turning
Sun burning
Dusk showing
Immense red sky
The end is nigh
Red sky
Let it lie
Dusk time
Red sky sublime
The quiet flowing
The day slowing
A drop of sunset gold,
carried by immense red sky
The earth arranges
These colour changes
Sunset glowing
The day.......
slowing
Deepening colour play
Dusk showing
A drop of sunset gold,
going down
Red and gold flame
The colours drown
The night...........came
Form:
The day slowing
Sky turning
Sun burning
Dusk showing
Immense red sky
The end is nigh
Red sky
Let it lie
Dusk time
Red sky sublime
The quiet flowing
The day slowing
A drop of sunset gold,
carried by immense red sky
The earth arranges
These colour changes
Sunset glowing
The day.......
slowing
Deepening colour play
Dusk showing
A drop of sunset gold,
going down
Red and gold flame
The colours drown
The night...........came
Love is a bit of comedy, so be rough with love.
He arranges her one way and then another,
in itchy dissatisfaction. She surrenders to the role
like a silent bystander, a plaything in the hands
of impatience - what does he want?
“Like this,” he says in a schoolteacher’s voice.
The imbalance of power, the almost impersonal
manipulations, the momentum toward surrender,
and then the shocking, primal desire - to meld -
like a gunshot in a canyon long thought empty.