Short Black Spot Poems
Short Black Spot Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Black Spot by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Black Spot by length and keyword.
Har, ya say it aren't so.
Yer holds a black spot.
Ye won't live to be old.
Grow short on the clock.
We want that, Gold.
Those cobs in a box.
Nice to know ya Munroe.
Pistol shot, flintlock.
A slender black spot
On my bedroom door at night
Became a crawler.
Around the carport,
Up and down the hall peeking,
The lightning man ran.
Hideous tree men...
Shadows like bad guys reaching...
Monsters imagined.
What is a birthday?
More importantly,
What is a birthday for?
Mark another year of life
From day of birth
I think not
To me
A birthday is embarresment
A black spot on the dreaded ides
I'm 15 on the 15th
I hate the attention
It's hell on earth
Truth
spotless
pure beauty
lotus like heart
spontaneously unfurling petals.
Petals of heart once completely unfurled
no black spot there
lingering
divine
peace.
© kashinath karmakar( 10th July 2011)
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Why must family make you bitter?
Why do they make me rage?
Mother, sister,
why must you fight me so?
when I have done no wrong,
Listening to false accusations,
You do not know the pain,
That black spot on my heart that you cannot see,
Why can't you just leave me be.
Form:
If history was food part 2
A crack
In each object
The reason why we get
Precious light.
Diamond
With a defect
Better than flawless stone
To be preferred’
Black spot
Flaw of the moon
But its absence will mean
Beauty has flaw.
+++++++
April 20, 2014
Form: Acquarian
Dr. Ram Mehta
Contest: Threads by nette onclaud
The smile that decorated my cheeks when you see me;
Does anyone know where the smile has come from?
Yes ! There is a rumour that a pearly white cloud
tried to hide the little black spot in the dazzling moon.
There the smile was first born.
You brought that smile down to the earth to adorn my cheeks.
Let my smile touch your feet.
A droplet of ink formed at nib of pen
I flung it swiftly, seeing it as waste.
Then theorized what it might have been
Had I not acted in such great haste.
An aborted word, or merely a smudge
That in my haste I'd neglected to blot.
Time elapsed, but my mind wouldn't budge
From that small unassuming black spot.
blazing hot summer
a black, bad asphalt wallows
melts into dry grass
bugs get stuck dry-up
frozen in heated black spot
burnt alive dead stuck
what is it left but...
chard, burnt amber drops dots
blaze burn up insects
melts into dry grass
a black, bad asphalt wallows
hot summer blazing
8/25/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019
Shreded,remains secret,
First love bloomed with in,
Still resides in heart,
As black spot never revealed.
Melted never down,
Frozen white pellets.
Pampered never enough,
Baby lied in cradle.
Stabbed lines darkness,
Rested back in source.
Elation crept,frosted
Scampered away to holes.
Sipped flies,nectar,
Moments blured,mind,
Floated flairs,obscure
Like to shed it away...
So tell me dear, what have you there
above your pouty lip?
I can do little more than stare
where tempered words oft slip.
With roundish humor, there it sits
a black spot on a stage-
a dancing actress camping glitz
attention- all the rage.
The charm of such a simple mark
so fortunately placed,
will conjure up a coy remark
how loveliness is graced.
(for the Holy MOLE-y!! contest)
The black widow weaves an intricate web
And from her silken thread she promises death,
Not to just other insects passing by
But to the male who cries ‘she betrays me, martyred by love’, then dies.
She eviscerated her love of all his blood,
Left his empty shell to decay and rot,
Surely this black widow on her heart has a black spot,
If she beckons you into her parlour
Then you are surely lost.
Tell me not the words that form
A black spot to the tongue adorn
Ear's shiver at first verse sung
Every sailor's first fear rung
For wicked tongues to proclaim
The proclamation of forbidden name
To breath the words of grey cursed song
Awakens the anger of dead's belong
Oceans sink into the ground
Mountains crumble to the sound
To chanted song been wrought with blood
That sleeps under the teardrop's flood.
Political killing is really bad
Very unfortunate, through the struggle i take it with a pang
And forget with much difficulty after a decade
But police killing? A Heinous crime
A blot upon democracy, a black spot on humanity
I abhor I detest and will never forget before a century
But killing someone
On the basis of collective consciousness?
Holy Lord! Never! Never! Until the civilization has not been destroyed .
My friend,out of desperation
I need to stick my fingers
deep inside your heart
and pluck out that big black spot
Everyone would be much better off...
You could finally earn that medal
put your humanity on the podium
a halo of gold around your soul
but you won't let anyone get close enough...
so, the black spot grows thistle- cold
cleaves the willow from your being
'till you careen off the soft edge of your
dreams...