Short Blotted Poems
Short Blotted Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Blotted by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Blotted by length and keyword.
And when the shadow of a large boot blotted out the sun
I then knew my final day of reckoning was done
Now that I am on the other side
Free from pain and hurt I now reside
KECKSOGRAPHY ink blots
Doctor/poet Justinus Kerner
when his eyes began to blur
Accidentally began an art form nouveau*
as the inked quill blotted his flow
Watching the summers final shoot
Seaside vewing my scenes blotted
Lines taking an exhausted breath...
Thinking in a sigh tis vacation time
Eight months and rewrites; telefax
Over budget; signing notes a photo.
Inkwells,
vein of the Quills,
scribing upon parchments,
heavy laden with dark secrets,
blotted
Date: 23/04/23
Traditional Cinquain poetry contest
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
I began to coalesce
light, shadow became solid
leaving my past of regrets
forgiveness, all sins blotted
a new creature made of light
now seen fully, I am loved
I am precious in His sight
have mercy on me
for my sins flow like a stream
cleanse me with your blood.
my heart remorseful
wicked acts perpetuated
to redress bad deeds.
on my knees I cry!
for heavens to bless my soul
my sins blotted out.
DATE:8-18-2016
Keep Searching
surrounded by ash
sun is blotted out no light
split up north south west
SunshineWilliams
kick me out i'm a
stray- can't last more
than a day- no
wonder- mother
may i- whispers echoed
-can't keep track-
who is who- stepping
back- all progress
decimated- blotted blurred
-you're all so aggravated-
can't see in the dark
without my spotlight
Thoughts are ages-old
Well before separation, sorrow
Discordant, lavishly pompous
They blotted my past self out
sarcasm directed at man, I will be not
Timeouts Ignore
Promptly, it has re-emerged as a threat
Written: November 10, 2022
Repugnant Pugilist,
A Lummox dim with a rubble fist.
Rock to Roc’s Feather.
A Stalwart Rook to blotted weather.
An over armored Savant slain by adhoc ether.
Hands empty without effort.
That sweet and Sable Rune.
Opening the Gates of Nether.
I blot.
My fluid paints your shadow.
My trace marks your story.
My color beautifies your page.
My life shares your poetry.
I want you to love me.
I need you to care me.
I like you to keep me.
I have to remind you.
I am not just a blotted ink.
PCKK. 070816. 7:44PM.
an old saying is one
unleashed from the sum
in riding its turn
to taste the scallop in
it move like fire
to quench are desire
a friend to behold
parting way to flames the sudden sold
come as a fashionable dent
to weak to pay my rent
We spent hours marked on a blotted page intact
Raw words,
etched deep to the page,
I make my mark deeply,
dragged from my gut,
to the surface,
but you notice not
the torn page,
the blotted ink,
turning a blind eye,
to my angst.
Playing ignorant
to my pain.
Ignoring my outstretched hand.
If I were drowning,
would you reach for my hand?
Well, let me tell you now,
I'm drowning.
Bow my head, with pen to book.
Pretend not to see stolen looks.
Writing of dreams I wish I'd had,
Of naughty times when we were bad.
I think of you, I think of them.
But always, I think of you again.
Endless songs, upon blotted ink.
Scrunched up paper, I tried to think.
Love letters sent and love letters not.
Waiting for you to love me,
but I guess you forgot.
Summertime it's a long time away
So bad the trees in the winter no leaves
Do sway the bark is bearing limbs
Oh! are so bad is a cold viral winds
Stirring everywhere no sign of green grass
Gray, black and brown tree bark blotted and so dismal
And it seems all is alive in the Winter breeze
1/29/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2022
Erupting black fire
Coarse through my desire
Blotted caosim futile myre
Not far off from thee dyre
Dyre reckoning of us all
No more can i fall
Hit rock bottom lull
Lull of a reciprical
Lost in the decete
More then i secrete
Before i can leap
Feeling every heart beat
Fall again evermore
When do i hit the floor
How can there be more
In thee myre from wence before
"Even him did outlandish women cause to sin." Nehemiah 13.26b
Even Solomon.
A fame torn apart
a name blotted
honor dissipates by mere act
the villain, women,
The Victim Solomon,
The acts, Lust.
bevies of licentious libidinous passerby
in ambuscade hunting destiny
Even Solomon,
Reputation buried in-between thighs
A king captured
Indelible stigma
women got him.
Where is the dream?!!
Where has it gone?
Have we lost sight of it, in the confusion we see it, I see.
Has the dirt that has been thrown at us hide its light.
Where is the dream?!
Has it truly been blotted out never to be seen again?
Do we truly live in such a sad world. Where is the dream?
Can you help me find it.
I am so lost. My directions are now skewed where is the dream.
O
Dearest Blue Eyes,
I wish
I could have taken your cup
Drank your sorrows
you would never
have tasted sadness.
O
Dearest Blue Eyes,
I Wish
My heart
Felt the bullet
And not yours.
O
Dearest Blue Eyes,
I wish
I could have given you
freedom
A world
Without pain.
O
Dearest Blue Eyes,
I wish
I could have
Blotted out your bitterness
Given you a smile.
O
Dearest Blue Eyes,
It is far too late
For wishful thinking.
Force that turns glass shards to mists
and causes girders to bend and twist
flesh and bone cannot resist
nor mortal word can console this
pushed to the brink
with blotted ink
the buttons pressed
have secret links
to battles pitched
it might seem rich
for ribbon bars
as spirits lift
the bodies stiff
a cheek to kiss
for some they dare
not lift the lid
an endless list
of souls to miss
we ask the question,
‘is it just this?’
Spill some wine on this white cloth
So impeccable, too perfect
A painter's canvas, begging
Drippings of red, crimson stains
Vintage patterns seeping
Rose petal brushstrokes beckon
Fingers dip into warm, slippery
Strokes on virgin dust
Drawings, slowly becoming
Outlines of a past conceived
Figurines learning the creative curve of
Life’s mysteries blotted in endless possibilities
***
May 15, 2017
Copyright © Darren White and Chris Green
He loved,but could not say
such words,he could not find;
He loved,but could not touch
such warmth,was just too much;
He was proud,but could not praise
such sounds he could not raise;
He supported,but not with words
such feelings,witheld unheard;
Sentiment,tight reined within
banished,unvoiced by him,
embittered by his own hurt,
a scarred child 'neath his hairshirt.
In the past,his crippled emotions lay
imprisoned,unsaid,'til his dying day.
Emotion=Inhibition
I stood upon the ocean's bay shore
And with a fragile reed I traced upon
"Bobby I love thee."
The mad waves rolled by and blotted out
The fair impression.
Frail Reed! cruel wave!
Treacherous sand!
I'll trust no mere!
But with a giant hand,
I'll pluck from Scotland's
Frozen shore his tallest pine,
And dip its top into the crater of North Sea
And in the high and banished heavens I'll
Write: Bobby I love thee.
And I would like to see
Any doggoned wave wash that out.
...like a dog stick
they toss your soul
into water snake cold lakes
fakes
getting rocks on and off
watching you retrieve
hope
hopelessness
for Christ's sake.
Those bouncing blue balls of hate
mad stars they are
shine sucking parasites
watching an arm churning
sleep-deprived moth-man
chasing dog sticks
into blood-blotted froth
while filling lemonade glasses
with scorpion piss.
Someday I'll burn that dog stick
and singe their paper-tongued promises.
5-4-21