Short Brandish Poems
Short Brandish Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Brandish by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Brandish by length and keyword.
to the far away stars
we brandish our scars
for we too are stars
when we obey the laws of the Creator
through tulipwood horizon his humming extract ruby arillate stillness
you always brandish serious caring of our misdirection
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 24–30, 2026)
If Hillary Had Been A Rigger
If Hillary really Had Been A big Rigger
How could Trump win with his fat figure;
Many brandish;
Become outlandish;
Story will be getting bigger and bigger.
Jim Horn
AN ALLITERATIVE ABC
always abridge ascribe and amplify an adsorbable affliction andiron again
buttress by backsliding but brandish bent bigotry
credibly crumpled choppy cocopa can campanulate caring catoptric centrocercus crabbedness
Took my hands and spotted the scars
Brainstorming on followers i would set loose
Serving my persona amidst fictitious comrades
Whipped out flaunting dummy soma
Chasing down the soul to bent toward authentic self
Seeking my failings hidden in brandish bits...
Don't worry about
classification,
We're all born as new stars.
Watch us brandish our
emotions.
Watch us mend a broken wing.
Watch us watch a cradle
rocking.
Classification nudges us to put
frames on things.
The universe has no frame,
Constantly reaching outward.
The world of vegetation detects spring much sooner than men
Buds and herbs rise up from their snowy arrest and wintry rest
Boost lovers and lambs to spring and brandish in lustful deeds.
+++++++
June 17, 2014
Tenth Place win
Form Sijo: (Syllable counts- 44)
I cannot deny
onset of aversion
whenever I observe
religious dogma at play
why do we brandish our gods
attempting to save ‘sinners’
making it our life mission
I do find it annoying
belief is in mind
realisation is in heart
we can memorise scriptures
or transform, becoming the light
Lying in ill warrant still slumbering
Its own age quill rule; restless wandering
In its grandeur, brandish securities
Ought they, beget these magical beauties
4/26 2020
Taken from the poem"Breezing Trees Heard the Whispers of Leaves"
Poetry Contest: Rithimus Divisa 3'
Sponsored By: Gregory R Barden
Good evening boys.
We’re here to play not to pray. Oh God
That’s an unsuitable predicament for a garage band. Let’s
play some down to earth music
not some praise the Lord too high for your voice whining
music. Your hands belong on necks, not on books
your fingers should press strings,
not brandish gold rings..
The day is new and not yet lost to summer heat.
Flowers blush and preen in morning breezes.
Let me whisper fears before the day consumes you
My fickle friend, another shadows your affections
Distracted lover another twirls for your attention
I'm losing confidence, and I think I'm losing you.
In the remaining shadows, leaves still brandish dew
I sleep easy
I brandish my metal most days
I think I do a pretty good job
I have no time to think about how you feel
I do what I need to do to get by
Sure...I may leave you feeling different
But that's temporary...right
Cho...get over it...but then again
why should I care?
I have things to do...
Yawn...time to go to bed
Tomorrow's another day.
Season of refreshing
The dead spring up alive
Their faces brighten up
Hope permeates the landscape
Beauty climbs to the top
Season of refreshing
The dying receive strength
There is a quantum leap
A brandish of colours
All expect a good reap
Season of refreshing
There’s an awakening call
An upsurge in fervour
Gloom rescinds and depletes
Pleasure meets endeavour
April 15, 2022.
Fiction gives me freedom
Freedom to drive any car and be at par with the czar
Freedom to take action against corruption
Freedom to brandish my gun and shoot for fun
Freedom to deride my wife and control my life
Freedom to be Mr. Loverman, the man with a master plan
Freedom to be Bond, Holmes and Powers all in one
Freedom to murder my president and get away with it
But fiction aint reality, is it?
you barf baster again
washbowl always amplify serious
burden but buttress can
gloriously grandstand crumpled expunging
never negotiate prolonged affliction
center choppy crabbedness extract
stillness for greenback stockholding
that ascribe brandish backsliding
gastrogavage plumping faintness and
your wedding will be
unalterable fluttering caring desirableness
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 24–30, 2026)
Think of the clock chiming
its your homecoming
At home she's a tourist
filling the disco floor with virtue
her bourgeois extreme thrives,
transport yourself a new personality
brandish your interment interest
show your mental process
2 steps forward
6 back
At home she feels timid
there's no gang sweetheart
just the statutes of the once great
awaiting toppling
in dew clad desperate February
Fear not
How?
Dare
Dare what?
Everything you don't know
Everything you don't show
It's not a place
It's not a fight
It is everything you don't know about yourself
The ability to not be afraid is to brandish the unknown self
It transcends your ego
An overflow of desires
It is deeper than your thoughts
Sometimes it is thoughtless but purposeful
It can be effortless if it is undoubtful
Fear less and less
And lessen your fear
Until you are fearless
Brandish my content for God
the sake of man
is idling, while the role is planned
to decimate our futile band!
Oh poverty, I hold your hand
to shake not, with some righteous stand
but raise with mine, to take command
the revolution of cost's manned!
Is of the hour ~ is of now's span
the gathering, crowding, in demand
Oh people, weigh in, to expand
the change to order from War's damned!
A liberty, a life, force can ~
its leadership remove . . . . . again!
Some man deserves the right to give her love
this Lisa
Lisa with her woman’s strength
which earns no ribbons or applause.
While loud men shout and brandish bravado to intimidate
she does what must be done.
Unlike the men who marred her past
and left her life the scars she never bares
to use or lean upon.
Some better man than me will see and know
the truth of her and love her.
And he may never bother to begin
to try to tell
how beautiful she is.
A cloud forms in the back of my mind,
As wind swept thought seeks shelter.
Clinging to the last vestiges of sanity,
Fearful of the tempest's steady advance.
Now caught in the eye of the storm,
Rational thinking stands at the crossroads.
A torrential downpour loosens my grip,
And I'm washed into a flood of madness.
Pelted by soft voices from dark skies,
Enticing me with false visions of grandeur.
Powerless to resist their subtle suggestions,
I brandish my gun and breach the crowd.