Short Branched Poems
Short Branched Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Branched by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Branched by length and keyword.
S urmount the branched form
A rise glorified reborn
V isage of man once torn
I conoclast earth adorned
O rdained light born
R eign as His firstborn.
matriarchy
generational
each branched out
adept heads of nests familial
strength of wills and influence
family tree in motion
evolutional
AP: 1st place 2021
Before me, less does allay
For scenery
Than quicken the blood as a form
Of spectacle.
Of mismatched broken pieces
Sheered off, crashing
Mountain-boulded and branched into
Its thawed icicle.
Of Beauty, all's gone out.
No let hung glimmer
High or low branched, for this
And that leaf-ember.
Not o'er the whole sad Earth.
Til this grateful shock.
Birdhouse a-flame! Porch-oozed.
Redbreast's berried smock.
It was so a tree that I saw
It was too a branched man!
He let a ripple pass under him
And then his root ran.
Which I know is out of character
And a laugh beyond hysterics;
But is what is brought out in folk
At the Landslide Frolics.
Raspberry, as glaringly large
Package with bulk, bulging.
Squirrel-eyed and squirrel-grasped.
Nuts, bells; enough weighing!
Thinks me, thinks he, if and once dropped:
"The spillage! Red flood-tide!
Every brown leaf to re-tint!
As yet branched high and wide!"
I
~ He died in my arms -
life flowing out with His blood ...
as I wept red tears ~
II
~ I was once beauty -
branched full with life abiding ...
now I am but cursed ~
A man's work is his kingdom
So I never stop constructing,
Equipping my throne
With armor and weaponry,
Force field's and hidden nukes
But my garden green!
A lawn with lime flower petals
Branched out trees,
The sky blue and sunny
I love my guardians,
And they never stop growing.
I'll take his walks
But not his ways.
Rugged for each, rung through
Old woodsman's days.
I'll track what cries
For peace, hawk-climbed
In that soothing, stream-breathed
Mountainy thymed.
While bypassing
Unnerved by, mourned
Legends echo, in both felled
Branched grandeur; horned.
Light is white
you are light-skinned
through the triangular prism light
is branched into seven different colors
your name is of a flower
if you are to be travelling through a triangular prism
must it be you also shall be branched into seven
different flowers
only nature holds the key to that...
Tree-branched bird staring,
Looking me right in the eyes;
We both confused:
Humsn and natural nature,
Inhibiting springing peace:-
Wars' twofold nature:
Destructive storms and bombings;
Both dooming in spring:-
God's spring cleaning is coming;
Let us get to sowing peace:-
prompts are
posted
all types,
daily
some are
not strict
with few
guidelines
others
with more
detailed
guidelines
make my
brain cells
create
new thoughts!
since I
started
on this
website
I’ve learned
new forms
I have
branched out
thanks to
the Soup
I am me
born in 1974
grew up in a small town
branched out into Big City Orlando
lived on the wild side
explored the Hoosier State
settled back into small town Ohio
lived, laughed loved my life
cherished times with family and friends
met some amazing people
who have been a big influence in my life
hoping to accomplish more
in this life
In a mess of trees and cool soft breeze, swept
The branched fingers that kept
Scratching windows and stretching for sky.
Reaching further, high
For purpose and paradise.
Uprooting from the stretch,
Concrete cracked under the pressure’s pinch.
Weeping softly, the willow
For it had given up the dream.
And the dying went unnoticed,
As most things that dream a dream.
By the Murray
is far from
By the lake
The Murray
has its own sound
as it meanders
across gravel runs
billabongs
bends galore
tonight will be cold
so the fire is prepped
7 sheets of crumpled
newspaper, splinters of pine
dry eucalyptus leaves
twigs and small branched
neatly piled
the cod are rising
at dusk
gently taking insects
from the surface
By the lake
would be
no sound
at all
If I was gifted meant to be,
drift o'er the waves a shining sea,
shift the limbs and branched canopies,
sift the brambles edged a lea.
Might this time be of arrogance?
Contrite that plagues inheritance,
red light districts embarrass us,
whites of stars shift in defiance.
Be content in doing nothing,
A prudent soul would try to sing,
The student aimed degree missing,
Impudent tongue when found will swing.
Drip, drip
Drip, drip
Melts the soiled soul onto
A dusty field of abandon
Fenced in by human limbed pickets
Yanked from the graves
Of broken hearts
Skeletal branched silhouettes
Clatter above the bloodless
Hole in the ground
The Ravens hide in the shadows
The shadows hide behind stone crops
The crops provide bountiful skulls
What is the illusion without a live audience?
Who, or what heard the solemn incantation of
Abra-Cadaver?
She shivers about, tense
at the inhospitable world
blinds and plexiglass seal frightened creatures from.
Rocking
from root to root —
in front, in back, in
the sun’s silhouette, the wind fancies her social anxious, as if
her and I were not sustained by the same substance, as if
our roads will not diverge. When I
learn her shiver, she softens, then jerks
her bough closer
with the reluctant certitude of soul
wanting to imagine glass as air.
almost touched.
hearts that brushed
in passing.
lasted looks
with drops of rain
amassing.
memories enhanced
twigs of despair
grown to passion branched
cab, puddle, heel, ankle
eyelashes lost
in looks that were tossed
his way.
this day,
started differently.
heartbeats separated
by oceans of city ships
all yellow
lost, in seas
of soulful pain,
but two brushed hearts
in passing, kissed
in the mid-town
summer rain
Swaying, swaying, swaying,
Rustled wind-moved arms
Nature’s back-bone praying
In beautiful verdant charms
Swelling girth scaling greens to duns
Stretching calloused thumbs
Elbows, elbows, bows
Yearly rests and yearly grows
Sapped and juicy teared old face
In the open, out of place
Saplings nestled in nested grass
In the shadows, in a class
Split dried tinder age
Stored sun, yellowed page
Fiery crackle, yet no rage
Giving comfort,
Love,
itself
The sun became a luminescent pearl
softly glowing behind thin gray clouds
in eclipse before crystal tears of snow
piled in drifts on Winter's frozen ground
White quilts cover bare branched trees
Tranquil has become the hush of night
I stare at logs crackling in the fireplace
remembering the things that used to be
A candle wick smothers in hot wax
like the flame in my heart that sputters
Frozen is the love that once was mine
beneath a blanket of snow over my heart
A soloist Java Sparrow flits,
A cathedral canopy of arched branched leaves,
The sparkling daylight dances the vast green space,
Moss glut rock form protrudes aground sits,
Pews of raw design entertain flocks trade eaves,
Sparrows respect prompts to spring cascading grace,
Heaven gifted natural blessings flow,
Dove coos the flock of Sparrow's faithful pace,
A breath of peace on Earth nature receives,
Bestilled feathers as the sun sets aglow,
~God's Face ...