Short Clinch Poems
Short Clinch Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Clinch by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Clinch by length and keyword.
with clinch
of teeth, a clench
of fist, straining to flinch,
the sail inched up, on tug of winch,
a cinch
Yes
Gone to far.
No way out.
Clinch my fists.
Bite my lip.
Whole day takes a wrong turn.
Never learn.
Till i do,
I continue to get burned.
@number14
Often dream of making unending love
Then wake up wanting a hug, even an old fossils
Any port in a pinch
Just need to clinch
To feel a warm body up against my nozzle
feeling every finger of the dusted crystal cold flicker through my down
talons extend
I grasp...clinch
rip moonward...
land and devour
with my survival...I nurture my young
Vast blue cawing rife
One pearl per nib clinch your prize
Pen's of all feathers
shadows clinch their fist
and grit their teeth
Gray Ghost is no longer free
to move beyond these prison walls
where death be written
upon the soles of our feet
thus, we march toward the
dark gate door that swings the axe
until death is written upon our feet
You longer blaze in the summer heat,
You breeze in the autumn wind.
Does my change concern You as much?
***
By what means,
do we clinch the elasticity of Your skin?
By what measures,
do we clench the extensiveness of Your muscles?
To keep You warm,
To keep You here,
To keep You.
Sands
in my
hand
trickle
as I
close
my
palm
to
grip
them.
I
release
the
remaining
grains
and
clinch
the last
ones
that
hold
the
traces
of
your
promise.
28 July 2020
1st place
STRAND completely new (14)any theme any form
Contest Judged: 7/28/2020 12:00:
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
You're asking me what makes me flinch?
My reason, answer, you will clinch.
Cell phone- held to ear!
One hand- left to steer!
At sight of this- my flinch- a cinch!
Sandra M. Haight
~11th Place~
Contest: What Makes You Flinch
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Judged: 07/27/2019
For you my love the time is near
to grasp eternity.
I shall suckle on your mortal coil
and draw the last of your humanity.
We shall pierce the night sky evermore
and clinch in this bed of stars.
Whom can prove and whom can deny
that darkness cannot bring forth love.
God has turned his eyes for now
his lambs are ours for the slaughter.
The illusion of probability
Art of dark light fate
Hex of great misery
Enchanter of doom
That sleeps time at no cost
Merciless orphan of wickedness
Barren monster in Paradise
Hunter of the living
Clinch of horror
The May morning destroyer
Stasis of goodness
Asunder of Unity
Pillar of Halloween
An indelible mark of pain
A Vague population regulator
Eyes of stark stiff doubt
Of The Win to clinch
After his Third Bout
No victorious inch
His rival quite out
To him reach and pinch!
Lips free with a pout
From pains of a gout:
A loss to a lout
Would Happiness rout …
What rules now to flout
For he can’t be out?
This idiot to rout!
Cheating for ‘A Lamp’
To see to being Champ
Not this Guy from Swamp
With Armpits The Damp.
So seamless an entity is he.
sleek before the crowd
bullet proof
tempered hard
steel
determination loud
Urban warrior
lean before the mass
tackle business
evenly
dodge before the crash
Suited armor
mohair gleam
woolen effigy
strained vessels
temples red
Imbibes with glee at noon
Not enough to win
the day
ore brethren in the clinch
they must lose
fall away
to rise another inch.
Sands in her hand
trickle as she closes
her palm to grip them;
She tries to clinch
every grain that flows
for it holds memories
of heartbeats~
indelible in her heart.
those heartbeats still echo~
and as the last grain drops
She whispers to the wind,
“ come back to me!”
2 July 2021
A Brian Strand (July 2) Poetry Contest
1st place
Oh mighty dingo I see you still crawl.
Long ago broken hearted and yet you still bawl.
Tears down both cheeks, is it your poor little peetie?
My heart aches for you, my dear little sweetie.
Still gritting your teeth while stuck in a clinch.
If your throne’s getting cold, then you might as well pinch.
You slither around with you childish boring prattle.
You’re still stuck in our creek, without either paddle.
A splendid job you did clinch:
One helping you to others pinch;
And warn them to not move an inch,
Freely going mad when they flinch,
Half hoping to a life lynch.
It has been your dreamt role:
To strokes of the cane increase;
And where there’s none try a pole,
Causes giving faces to crease;
The inhuman you unleash with ease
Of mounting pressures no release,
You’re advised to roles switch,
And at the sight of blood twitch.
You close your eyes,
Llick your lips,
And loosnes your thights,
Hips,
As I prepare to take a dip,
You smile with a little grin,
Since you showed me what's whithin.
Your expression change from bad to worst,
Worst meaning good,
So I continued my course,
With a hunger for love,
Not remorse.
Your hands form a tight fist,
As you begin to clinch,
The bed sheet,
When I went deep,
Deeper,
Deeper into your soul,
Making your body warm,
Since it was once cold.
9.00 am he was at kine's shrine,
9.00 pm luck began to shine,
10.00 pm everything just fine;
Over nothing again to pine...
"Of all gods The Handsomest: kine!
Gone he had to its shrine with wine
To change life that tasted like brine,
Soon begin to with icons dine,
And clinch Mr President's line!
Everyday to be there at Nine
And reproduce an agreed sign;
And say:"Hottest Hell is mine;
On the last day shen't fail to whine
My heart,liver and kidneys thine"
If you long for a licking thrash,
Then, touch a guy's earned cash:
A move ingloriously rash!
And you shall equally clinch a has:
On either cheek a… finishing gash!
The nearest thing to A Trash
Is eyeing someone’s cash,
To it in some bank stash…
Teeth shall ceaselessly gnash
And cornered one’s future dash;
A name lose in a flash
Or have it mixed up with Ash…
Like it had happened to a Nash
And it wasn’t a little crash.
For the caught Petty thief,
It is still big grief!
The story of my life, empty, a vase
filled with wilted flowers; leaving a trail
passing by slowly like a swollen snail;
extracted, drawn firmly upon my face.
Echoes of age with such depth of your love
written within dreams, a-dream built on bricks
I've been clinging on so tight as time ticks;
all lie with crowns of stones, leaves clinch above.
Once, the story of my life with grand sprays
of bloom, now taken by wind through a maze.
9/28/2019