Short Atavistic Poems
Short Atavistic Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Atavistic by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Atavistic by length and keyword.
flashes of atavistic plurality
saves us timelessly
and sporadically
from what we are
programmed to be
by the system... !
An idea sprouts
a heterodox notion
Sweeps 'cross my radar ~
atavistic wave on the ocean...
Can there really be
in this metaverse evolved
A concept so novel, so fresh
it gets people involved...
It is autumn
grapes are bleeding.
The orange color
seeps into your eyes.
Will you shut the green lids ?
You,
start reading backward.
Atavistic instinct
to dig up the severed hands ?
Your house,
died
in the flower bed.
Seeds were crying.
Satish Verma
Form:
They killed him
And dug a pit to bury the body
Unaware of a pack of wolves waiting
In the cavity of woods; their eyes burning
In passion for live food;earth soaking
The smell of blood, some wafting
To the swelled nostrils
whipping atavistic appetites
in all who were awake
In this chill.
The dead man sleeps.
I heard a story of a land
Where tolerance was all,
As one they lived together
Whatever creed or call.
Homophobia and misogyny
Xenophobia and distrust,
Those atavistic attitudes
Were crumbled into dust.
Of course 'tis but a fairy tale
But that it could be,
This world would be a pleasant land,
Where empathy runs free.
'Breathing Death'
Atavistic air of love entombed
Awake aware of fossils fumed
Dragons breath a fatal fire
Sleeping death poison for hire
Eyes wide shut awaiting dark
Restless rut as demons bark
Descending stench clouds of gore
The reaper shrouds the whore
Now trapped within I sleep
Intoxicating mortal sin I weep.
note..."whore" representing death
March.13.2018
10 lines 5 words III
Sponsored by: Laura Loo
Burn the bush and eat the fruit.
Take everything you can from this life.
It’s not meant to last
And you came first
Rules of the desert
Leave the dead and wounded behind.
Bushman, atavistic warrior
Live by the spear and die by the machete
An AK47 by your side.
Sixteen years old
Never felt true love
Lying there in death
Bleeding from your mouth
The roses of humanity
Have left their thorns in your throat
You never cried
You never laughed
You barely lived
And then you died.