Short Attics Poems
Short Attics Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Attics by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Attics by length and keyword.
Svelte Sylvia loved acrobatics
She did it in gyms and in attics
She did a pole vault
And a triple somersault
She is known as a fitness fanatic
a poe-at-trees po-attics
means...
rhymes rye-me wry
and...
to add-verse adverses
with...
shortened short-end
messages...
as a mature amateurs
care-act-sure...
stan sand
Ripped and tea soaked
blobs and blips
sellotaped the breaches
shine and dust drenched attics
where sunlight picks its points
moments lost and rescued
wait somewhere
within the back
of my mind
Beat Poets
We're cool and we're hip.
We're writing everything
you wish you wrote before.
We live in attics smoke weed
and drink cheap wine. We bleed
Howl and Ginsberg's other tears.
Searching
for his palette
the painter
wanders on
Dreaming
of each color
to visualize
his song
Tubes of paint
lie scattered
unsqueezed
their caps remain
In attics
of blank canvasses
with images
— unframed
(Dreamsleep: July, 2025)
Whisper
words of your love
into my soul's psyche,
etching into my memories
echoes
of times
now stored inside dusty attics;
forgotten in the end,
a summer spent
with you.
Whisper
echoes
of times
with you.
'math'...them
attics...
they be
'knot'...buzzing
without quest-shuns...
of
being...as some phi-loss-of-phi
contradict-shun in itself as just...
'a knot'...until-actually seen as an
no-there meant-all ab's track of mind...
stans sand
He is not guilty,
But someone in here is
I have two kids
Sometimes acts like pigs
No violence
I love my kids, don’t touch them
Thanks for the hem
On Jem’s pants
One shot, on the spot
Never did in years, never will
As long as my kids are not around and Dill
Form:
Excited steampunk creators
Designing in dastardly studios and attics
Working with fascinating gears and copper levers
A whole new world envisioned in a collective remembrance
Jules Verne watches from his heavenly seat and smiles
Admiring his octopus box from 1869.
I write of fragments in my life
things written in diaries for attics
of memories- now just bones and dust
for those lost loves that still shatter my heart
of the people who sailed in gliding ships and left
and those who turned against me and left me broken
we awaken
for a moment
to remember
all that was sacrificed.
then, one by one
we take them down
and pack them away.
the ornaments,
the memories,
we place them
carefully
into our attics
and closets
until next year,
when we dust them off
and try again
and cry again
for peace on earth
Ice on the petal -a shadow slides in
Broadsiding virgin light is what shadows do best
As emotions summit, this is the time to dread most.
When hearts are hammered by devilish anvils
coaxed along by blue ghosts.
Gray attics are where all memories lie
panic lives just below in a distraction called, a new day.
Angel figurines acquired over five decades--
Bought, found in attics, given by friends and family—
Cover many shelves. Their delicate beauty never fades.
Delighted with the joy they bring, she vows there will be
More soon, to add to the appealing variety.
October 4, 2020
Poetry Contest: Completely Your Choice, 21
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Amazing armor apparels
An amazing apparatus
Appearing and ascending
Above all aimless attics
All are attics
After assigning apparent actions
Amongst atmospheric allies…also
Assembles and annexes an anecdote
Animals also assemble and apprehend
Any available areas
Alert and aware about alternatives,
Apportionment among animals are
Actually awesome.
Form:
Clearing up
Ideas and concepts
Airing out
Attics and musty closets
Freeing up
Vitality and emotions
Channeling
Energy and growth
Feeling
Whole and in control
Redefining
Living and being me
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~SUNLIT RIPPLES~ 2019
Submitted on September 12, 2017 for contest A SEPTEMBER STANDARD sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 3RD
number addicts unfreeze the itch
in their number attics where-in
a'top any...
"logic-call" be
counts in/of...
all four directions as
imaginary number concepts
that be just...
multiples of square roots
of a minus-one...
yielding imaginary pictures giving a
shape/form to illustrate some space-time
that's unseen and so then given...
a number-mask by the mind that's
not of numbing-brrrrrs...
stan sand
These are the spaces I confide
These are the narrow crevices
These are the places I reside
These are the secure refuges
Upstairs attics with small windows
The quiet corners where I go
The hidden chambers no one knows
Downstairs cellars through secret doors
There I have my room for dreaming
Room to create and postulate
Pose questions and probe for meaning
Riddles and rhymes to contemplate
In there the world does not dictate
And there I have less room for hate.