Short Blackouts Poems
Short Blackouts Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Blackouts by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Blackouts by length and keyword.
In far-off places
More darkness than light - few rules
I have your heart, smile
Power is cut, but I write
Your light: no blackouts ever
All eyes on me, while I dance away the night in continuous blackouts,
But my beauty so evident, shining stars on the stage suck out the life
and now I know this life is a regret, but I'm a star
Smog and blackouts led to an off-track sleigh,
‘til Rudolph’s red nose could not save the day.
Santa refused to show stress,
So he used his G-P-S*
To get Christmas Eve trek back on its way!
115
I remember
When I once
Was wise
And the blackouts
Of heightened
Adrenaline
Didn’t come
I just want to find
Whose taking over
And living the
Highlights of my life
Am I still crazy
Like this life
That is mine
Can’t believe these eyes
And what they see
As only blackouts survive
Driving my rig into the northern Alabama night
A twisting hand reaching out of the demon skies
And ripping out the heart
And giving back ruined lives
(I know, I was there)
dark clouds overhead
with heavy rain unending…
the sea is claiming all
dark in the morning
foretells the rainstorm coming….
sojourner take care
spring rains bring flowers
dark rains of winter bring floods….
downed lines and blackouts
For Dark Rain contest won 3rd
Gadgets have twiddle-rings and grabbit-bars,
press-its, turn-its, handles, and plugs.
Blackouts have candles, torches, Scrabble, cards,
Too dark for darts,
Watch your hair - it nearly caught fire,
Waxy bits on the table,
And dried mashed potato on the plates
where the washer-upper didn’t see it.
The solar farms, ugly and large
And props for the wind-induced snarge
It’s green they’re extolling
But blackouts are rolling
And, best of all, no EV charge.
—————
snarge - noun: (military, slang) The remains of a bird after it has collided with an airplane (bird strike), especially a turbine engine.
We live
under glare
of uncertainties,
and blackouts
of time...
we unlearned
the world...
and now
we are flooded
of deceit...
truths that
swear lies
as if they were
reverie truth...but
truly are
our reality...
naked and raw...
Our indefectible
involution
Late commers snap beaky throats,
mug with angry complaints.
A gathering
of de-frocked preachers strut
and preen, a tussled foraging,
hustle, and riot.
Up in the branches brothers caw and jeer.
Upheavals come together,
those with more pluck, snatch and pilfer.
Wanton blackouts of carrion crows
crowd my eyes
with their petty, ill-mannered crimes.
How disseminate the innocence
Run own guilt sins of cunning
Hate disguise to rush its storm
In a open window smile of love
Fountain of youth sings farewell
Blackouts thunder of survival over a blitz
Ghost in dreams blooms in spider nests
Rest in aged barrel and comeback blessed
No hidden veil to vapor the first smile
Still confound by eternal circle of affair
The problems, they surmount, why is infinity so hard to count?
It’s because infinity has no end. It’s quite Elementary my friend!
How do I drive my hybrid car when we suffer blackouts near and far?
A battery and fuel tank is the trend. It’s quite Elementary my friend!
You answer each problem of mine making it sound so simple and fine?
My knowledge I am happy to extend. It’s quite Elementary my friend!
Four Seasons have harmony.
One utilizes two years.
Four start same year.
All have three months.
December? Commerce and Celebration.
WINTER? Ice, Cold, Snow.
Forecast of the groundhog.
Blackouts and closed roads.
Thaw up; SPRING up.
Beautiful blossoms; singing birds.
Life explosion; Living colors.
Hibernators, eat and play.
Marry me this SUMMER.
Cool me in July.
Festivities in the FALL.
Give thanks in November.
OUT COLD
out cold ground floor
afflicted by calm daze
above beating chants dance
ample basic canvas draped
out cold ground floor
abridged dreams cross doubts
across blinds careless drapes
arid brains carcass droughts
out cold ground floor
aspiring bloods crimson drool
amidst blackouts cruel demise
acquittal by chance deluge
out cold ground floor
anaesthetized
behind
closed
door
(a/b/c/d poem)
© Kim van Breda
Ease is something that we roll our teeth at.
Dizziness.
We gravitate toward sweat.
Sometimes.
Slightly out of breath.
Then not so much.
Climbing up, up!
Distress is like combing through the cremations.
Ease is at the top of stairs, at the top of tops.
Bustling.
Ease is this zipped up feeling that burns.
And we fall asleep like that.
Dizzy, horrible, twisted sweat.
The blackouts started earlier than I thought.
The hammock slammed shut.