Short Bodiless Poems
Short Bodiless Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Bodiless by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Bodiless by length and keyword.
Pisces vacation...
muscles melting in the sun
waves cradle gently
bodiless, only the now
Mother Ocean rocks her child
Bodiless, that desert- formed
Slither-smooth felt as
Headless, of its dragon's fury
Breathed on. Burns the grass!
Sad irony! That safe place
Shades me off from it
Leaf-wizened, droopy hung. Heard waned
Rest, sweet did transmit.
BODILESS
bold angels
block and shape
their lips eclipse
inane words cloud
tangle entwined
pristine alphabets
peroxide prose
silver currents
of the unheard
gold…
goldfish
goldring
goldthing
parades of perfect peace
© Kim van Breda—7 December 2015
THE CLOCK
Tick, Tick, Tick,Tick
You count my life away.
No room to be sick
So little to time to play.
Bodiless face and hands
Attract my every gaze.
And determine all my plans.
Cold, hard cogs and gears
Grind mercilessly onward
Marking time year after year.
Only forward never backward.
You march on and on
In the end I will be gone.
A sonnet
The Universe has no border
a limit, so far not further
It is overwhelmingly timeless
and dark blue
For all we know, there can be
other planets with various Gods
Humans need to worship
something above themselves
The creatures might be advanced
to the point of being bodiless
Pure spirits for whom death is
Alien, they might call it Nirvana
I was doing great
Holdin' on
It's been 32 days
Since my best friend passed on
His son, who now lives with me
Walked through the door
Carrying a leather jacket
Out came tears just like before
The kids huddled around me
As I hugged his bodiless scent
"Don't cry mom"
My chair became a human tent
Can't see through the tears to finish. I'll try later...
I wake in sweats
Drenched in the regrets
Of a desert womb
This empty tomb
Where lie the never born
Whom I may never mourn
Never mourn this constant lack
That has me forever in deepest black
Never sit and talk beside their graves
For I can never bury the bodiless babes
Never sit and silently pray
For what dies inside me every day.
© Barry Freeman – 1st May 2021
The closet held secrets
his deepest fears
It hadn't been opened
in nigh on ten years
He'd painted it over
sealed it so tight
its eerie green glow
flickered ghost-white
A note found years later
under the bed
Warned of aliens captured
their arteries bled
Alas, what sick heads
some humans possess
To tell tales like this ~
grinning skulls bodiless
Back age of brute creation 'n herbage beholders
Hominoids have stayed for bodiless years
Jumbled brains on battered shoulders
With rash of lacking space frontiers
On brief planet lay all the bone souvenirs
For countless, covered bodies in shallow earth tomb
Whilst' sun winks like the star
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust gloom
In an overcast front of sky afar
Protected in the bosom of Spirit’s immortal reservoir
Halloween Moon Crabs
A tide rises to leave behind hundreds of tossed colourful halloween moon crabs to stroll
Craving social connections like homeless souls furtively hunting their unsown roots
Celtic calendar hides matronly lunar freeing guised children and bodiless souls
Five more years for the halloween moon, till then crabby purple claws in orange suits
October10, 2015
Contest: Halloween Moon
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Form: Quatrain
The clothesline hung, low, and limp.
Raucous, red, long johns
and worn, white, blue jeans
pinned like butterflies in a box;
dangled bodiless.
The neighbors all envied Mom’s skill.
Nobodies tidy whities were brighter.
The pulley wheel whined and clanked
against back porch clapboards
when a stiff wind blew through.
And, the state of your laundry
was like the state of the union jack;
you hung ‘um both high
and took ‘um down when the rain came.
The Mermaid Calls
You draw me close,
and I can not swim.
You lure me,
tempt me,
and tell me…
things.
Your beauty is beyond,
all that I have ever known,
or will know.
How can I look away?
I want to touch what I see,
I want to be part of
what I do not know.
You are illusive.
You are austere…
The woman,
bodiless and boundless.
Her hair soft kelp,
Her touch…
The hope to drown,
a witless man,
and support
a mariner.
Dinner Date or Date for Dinner?
When the harvest moon is full and bright,
And the wolf bane blooms on an autumn night,
If the guy whose kiss used to make you swoon
Starts to lick his lips and howl at the moon,
You'd best decline if he asks you out for a bite.
A Midlands Urban Legend
A village somewhere in the Midlands
Was harassed by a bodiless dead man,
But sans charger or steed,
How could they, indeed,
Be afraid of a lone horseless headman?