Short Clichés Poems
Short Clichés Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Clichés by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Clichés by length and keyword.
Silence sings to me
The song of sleep, while my soul
Clichés autumns breeze
Where it roves in wild gleamed trance
As dream broke realities.
Timothy- Paker Nwaorgu
For Olajide Adelana's "Dream Land" contest
18/01/2012
When you are down, let it pass by.
Do nothing. Let words bleed in imagery
Speak nothing. Let silence float away..
Rephrase nothing. Let wisdom break the clichés within.
When you are down, let it pass by.
In poems, in prayers, in courage.
2-18-2020
As a rule the room
Is full of ennui and ash
Except when your moon
Peeks behind bits and pieces
Fireflies in moment’s clichés
Moments normally
Insipid tea in old cups
Except when your look
Blooms all over the shadow
Waiting in acute hot sun
____________________________
7/9/16
I sit in disbelief of what I've become....
I drink a toast to the evil, setting sun...
I am nothing but treading on being done...
I've run out of clichés, yet I've only begun...
What has happened can never be undone...
No worries, I can't find my gun...
I can't remember my dreams, not even one....
I snear at my nemesis, the sinister sun...
A breath of fresh air,
On the darkest of days.
My better half,
When I’m not strong,
To be good enough.
My sanity,
My silver lining.
The person to fill me
With cheesy clichés,
And a stupid grin.
Life’s not easy and
Not even close to being fair,
But having that crazy redhead
As my very best friend…
Well, let’s just say
I’ll have smiles to
Last an entire lifetime
5AM the haywire of light
you've framed the vista
from your frosty window
Stacked sachets of cos lettuces
ponder for an outcome growth
Whence the day of blossom
Salvation is always a cost
Once you rode the world
but now you're part of the pack
eager for their morsels
Talk is easy
like hanging fire
Blackened clichés parade
You straddle the foundations
for the fear of listening
to your own sage
unfold in your mind!
Eyes
The mouth can speak sweet words or lies
with profundity, deep and strong.
But when you look straight in the eyes,
there's a truth that is never wrong.
Lovely words are "hocus pocus"
when the eyes are glancing down..
They need to look up and focus
on your two greens, blacks or browns.
Adoring clichés are spoken
to many a cherished, won prize.
Yet true love leaves hearts unbroken,
and begins in the lover's eyes.
7/12/17
The poets are the quills of God. The quills
write down the masterpieces that cause chills
along the spine, goosebumps, tears of the pleasure
in godly rhymes that feed into the treasure
of poetry. The quills write down as well
the platitudes, the clichés that, to tell
the truth, are different on spelling only.
The countless graphomaniacs and the lonely
true poets who, I hope, include myself -
you’ll find your places on the God’s bookshelf.
The ring I have
I do not wear in my finger little
To dispel neither the spell of a wicked ghost or witch
Nor to attract the soul of a damsel
The bell is not for chimes either
To ring out
To ring in
The old, the new or the clichés
In my heart that I ring for another reason
The purposes are gyrating and stiring
Inside and at the bottom
To awaken
To arouse
The giant in deep sleep
And for you all the good will in hibernation
Wither away in my old shoes
rust brown thoughts
sorrow is not anyone's possession
a single tear belongs to us all
I know
I have stolen the book of wisdom
in the blackness of life
looking back
I see it all
beauty
loneliness
sad songs
beaten dreams
In a broth scolded hot
boiling all my clichés
steam fills the windows pain
but I do not see this
A burden of proof
I can no longer carry
the light switch , switched off
the stars sleep
What a Difference Two Days Make, or Not
To reflect after life has dealt
Lemonade without the sugar;
Two days, turbulent emotions,
Good news, bad news clichés are
Erasing from that reflection,
Looking back, it’s not so bad.
Nothing changed, upon contemplation,
Just knowledge new that I had.
The sun is warming the rooftops,
My puppy still sleepily snores,
The plants are still on their window sill.
God fills the rooms, though much much more.
A rose lies dying,
petals fall one by one;
scatter, wind blown and random.
upon fresh turned earth.
Bitter silence,
cold,
indifferent,
wraps around my shoulders.
A quiet companion
I hold close.
Friends with strange faces,
smile sadly with inadequate words.
Doled out clichés fall
upon ears that hear only
your forgotten voice.
Memories of years revisited
dusted off and polished;
lost days irreplaceable.
Life with out you carries on.
Seems plagiarism, isn’t a crime
Let’s copy lines we deem sublime
Perhaps from Shakespeare
Or wit Edward Lear
And poet’s deceased a long time
It's pointless alerting admin
Cos stealing work’s not deemed a sin
It’s really not fair
To steal works out there
It happened much to our chagrin
Known clichés which are now passé
Just copy them and post away
Then act with denial
Sit tight, even smile
And perhaps, get Poem of the Day!
An event unexpected,
a conception unplanned.
A future difficult to hold close
until the ultrasound shows ***** ...
the wonder of your daughter
yet to come.
Then on a Sunday
when life seems sweet,
a trip to the hospital.
You reborn into a world of loss
and hurt
and longing.
While we struggle to express our sympathy
with words
a dozen clichés long
for a life no longer viable ...
stillborn
a little past half way to birth.
And I don't even know
if she's named.