Short Bombarding Poems
Short Bombarding Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Bombarding by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Bombarding by length and keyword.
bluish seagulls encroach
the greenish out fields of
torture bestowing the lamented
souls pickled thoughts
bizarre regiments of
curious wants bombarding
the elements of vernacular needs
i shed tears of blood
on your decorated tomb
Form:
No way to escape the
bills bombarding the mail box;
raping the truck that delivers.
Everyone needs a piece,
I am running out of limbs
"What do you do for a living?"
I eat, drink, and sleep.
I am told to work, to make others
money while I pay bills
If you dont agree
well than
your a
bum
I sit beneath a sacred tree. Seeking no meaning. I just am
Stillness gives way to clarity.
I vow to awaken us all
Searching for nothing. Waiting to rise above this earthly realm
Detaching from this body’s natural state of chaos
Bombarding all senses, numb
Dharma is obtainable, I vow to obtain it
Failing to comprehend the wickedness of mankind...
today with no solutions,
Deep breathing to destress myself
governing pollutions.
Bombarding my psyche
attacking my drive,
The greatest test in life
to purely stay alive.
Breathe slowly, Breathe slowly
now passing through the odd...
though the devil has his children
Still, I remain with God.
Bombarding the bong like oxygen is wrong
drinking alcohol like you’re a bottomless hole,
The speed the base the MDMA
the pace of life wastes you away
cocaine and ecstasy
next day looking wrecked to me
Ketamine replaces vitamins
face changes, unrecognisably
Why buy more supplies
When supplies die off
and you die slow
Unhappy unless under the influence,
life caught up in the drug undertow
As I am here surrounded by the Numbness
of tree trunks - still and nameless in the breeze -
A Willow weeping crystals of uncertain
Bombarding a century that does not belong to me
But I AM here surrounded by the people
who blindly thrust my chest and leave the broken thorns
and no one cares when mutilating names of lovers
How hurtful is when carving in immortality of bark...
copyright@iolandascripca2012
silver swords strike
red mountain
exposing the night
flash bang x-rays
bombarding my soul
rattling windows
tin roof deluge
staccato
gushing down my heart
cleansing the gutters
spring shower
desert gold
invigorating my spirit
renewing cactus flowers
fragrant fresh morning
tender breath from above
gentle sun warming
red blossom dripping
sweet nectar of heavenly love
wee hummer sipping
On a horse I watch as the rain comes down hard
Water comes pelting onto my skin, I’m lost
Storm enters full force with winds lifting skyward
Lightning comes with amazing strength, I am tossed
The storm rages on, fiercely bombarding me
With awesome horizontal rain blasting free
Hurting me and my soul by the wind’s grand source
The storm’s massive destruction by its dealt force
Russell Sivey
Water-lily,
Floating on the ice-blue sea,
Away from your homeland.
Leaving thin, red, trails as you go.
Steering among the foreign, black-seal-dotted icebergs.
Electric-white lightening flashing,
And the chill of the Arctic winds,
Bombarding from all directions.
As you long for,
The lily-pad life,
Its comfort and kinship,
Now, but a past possession.
I, do, too.
Let us stiffen our lips,
Tighten our collars,
And dream.
I see my thoughts as pictures,
yet try to explain them in words,
limited by a set of rules,
bound and strangled by nouns, adjectives
and verbs.
I feel emotions as intense waves
bombarding my psyche,
and weights upon my soul,
yet try to express them with symbolic
patterns on paper.
I live in a world of abstracts;
feelings; sensations; moods;
unable to say what is in my thoughts
and being,
as words alone are not enough.
People are crying, children are dying
People surround and the baby is crying.
Blow your mind it's dinnertime
sit around and watch the world go by
Blow your mind it's dinnertime
why do we sit and watch the world die?
Children are starving, armies bombarding
Countries blown up and the president's starring.
Blow your mind it's dinnertime
sit around and watch the world go by.
Blow your mind it's dinnertime
sit around and watch the world die.
Juxtaposed along the way, another voice declares
“Time exists for recompense not finding fault with heirs”
Time remains a fleeting whyle, all hopelessly bombarding
Time so swiftly punishes, all happy disregarding
Time proceeds invisible, the master sure and humble
Against the clock the living swear, in darkness forward tumble
The rising sun reminding all that time is ever true
Make time your greatest friend of all, get on reviving you
The internet has morphed
into a fickle friend,
warping reality
in subtle, social ways,
that no one could foresee.
The internet has morphed
into a worldwide web
that manipulates you;
bombarding you with posts
that only tout one view.
The internet has morphed
into a confidant,
with sympathetic ears
who is omnipresent;
crying emoji tears.
The internet has morphed
into a platform with
its own identity,
in a fictional place:
selling serenity.
You don’t consume a second meal
Before the first’s digested.
Your senses need some time to sort
The tastes you’ve just invested.
The same holds true for things you see
Or places where you travel.
Experience requires time
To stick, or might unravel.
When news is gotten, good or bad,
It takes a little while
To seep inside and be absorbed
In your specific style.
You cannot rush the process;
It may sometimes be quite slow,
But bombarding of the body
Or the mind’s not how to go.