Short Cassandra Poems
Short Cassandra Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Cassandra by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Cassandra by length and keyword.
she was an aberration
a soft sorry light that reflected
upon all the lights around her and never turned
away not even for a minute
she was perfection
Hi,
Im Rebecca Cassandra and this is my first time doing a poem about my love of my life
I love my love and I miss my life with the people who I love and miss over the years of my life time .
C-louds
A-re
S-o
S-ublime
A-bove
N-ot
D-oing
R-ain
A-s
V-iew
E-xpresses
N-ew
I-mpressive
D-awn
A-gain
Topic: Birthday of Cassandra L. Venida (July 15)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
they lost Cassandra, their girl child on a breezy autumn day
I have looked all over said her worried absentee Daddy Jay
Her mother asked where are the cats? They will show you the way
Cassandra was under the bed, reading a book on this happy Tuesday.
C-ome
A-nd
S-ee
S-unrise
A-fter
N-ew
D-awn
R-eemerges
A-nd
K-ind
I-lluminate
M-orn
B-egins
E-ndorsing
R-adiant
L-ight
Y-ou
Y-earn
A-s
B-eacon
U-ses
T-winkle
Topic: Birthday of Cassandra Kimberly A. Yabut (January 18)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Cassandra
My sister in suffering
our stories align
Betrayed by him
you had devoted
your being to serve
Never adored
Mocked and ignored
Driven mad by derision
for no one would listen
Viciously violated
seeking sanctuary
Your pleas to the gods
going unanswered
I see your visage
in my mirror
as your eyes
peer into mine
within my own prison
You were fated to die
as am I
Zandra saw a big elephant in Bandra
"Hey it's a big moth my darling Cassandra"
"No it's not a moth
"It's a mighty sloth"
"I have seen it playing a joke on Sandra""
Copyright (C) rajat kanti chakrabarty 25 November 2014
The van idles: inside its cage
she hops like a grackle
from dashboard to counter.
Lady seer, shuffling the motley,
the significant and trivia.
Not 'all seeing', a Cassandra nevertheless,
revealing the stamped
and foreseeable.
A flick of her wrists
between each numbered box,
and we enter an unread limbo
until we open that tin mouth
reaching for bolts out of the blue,
and delayed news from snails.