Short Complying Poems
Short Complying Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Complying by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Complying by length and keyword.
Her face is like a marble statuette,
blank of expression, emotions beget.
Motionless throughout vicious verbal storms,
driven by not complying to shared norms.
Weep, weep, weep bladed tears of rusted blood,
the only nectar of a frozen bud.
dread, rising up while all hope is dying
safety and surety of joy, a soul ignores,
apprehensive, worried, insecurity’s complying
pouring out tension from deathly doors,
bleeding heart whose shadow is petrifying
D-o it now not later,
A-s time is running out;
I-t's better not to tarry,
S-o just forget the doubt.
Y-ou must do it now,
L-inger not along the way;
Y-es, reach the finish line,
N-ovember thirtieth Thursday.
S-tart complying with your oath,
E-agerly fulfill your vow;
N-o delay will cause dismay,
O-nce you do it
N-ow.
Cozy crimson sky highlighted
Clouds, in corners, gold ignited
Cranes and cuckoos fly exited
Wherefrom is this ringdove?
Compassion in thoughts, words, and deeds
Complying with kind nature's needs
Cosmos cultivates complex seeds...
Is there, midst, a foxglove?
Calmness carves the clandestine cores
Cardinals commence carefree tours
Calcites and corals hug in scores
Cool breeze is on the move
I tremble before you, my vying emotion
I thought I could be loved with complying emotion
My mirror used to love my sight
there is no more of that undying emotion
Neglect tore at me, scattering me into shards
This whole life of mine is fragmented by self-denying emotion
Love is what you give away
To anything but my trying emotion
If you came back it'd be too late-
You permanently left the scar of dying emotion
Handcuffed to the bed
legs spread
mystifying and complying
in every scene
sewn deep into a memory
seashelled into this heart
washing away
with the outgoing tide
echoing earnestly
where our worlds go to hide
light on light
dripping through the night
word swallowing word
another candle burns
I blow
heat flickers into a faded breath
bent over and spent
she comes back to life
Awaiting, like the stillness breath of fate ~
complying with my solitude's bereave,
I chanced your heart, and then did look in grief
at all the risks construed, the moment's thief.
And it were always, someone else, some kind
some ignorance of path, some meriting refined,
it were . . . not us, not using, not defined
but in my sentence, in my dreaming's line.
It were my faith, it then became resign
but by trust's hiding, I am thereby . . . find!
M-emory is not enough,
A-ll lessons that you receive
R-emain to be seen in action,
I-n good result to achieve.
T-he memory is not enough,
E-arly fourteenth of July;
S-ee to it that the order of God is obeyed neath the sky.
P-ure listening to the truth
I-s only to know and understand;
L-et your own life live
A-ccording to God's command.
P-erfectly complying with the law
I-s probably hard or tough;
L-ove though will do, memory is not enough.
The clowns are crying
And frowns complying
In a world unaware it's dying
All the fears my heart kept
For all the years I spent bereft
Needing some debris clearing of a mind swept
Should there be anything fragile left
In that room, in that mind an ego is kept
With a hippy 60’s vibe, in cadence, in step
And I'm a drummer I am supposed to keep a beat
And when I'm not behind my kit I can still tap my feet
At the hi hat's foot chick you had me.......complete
Charm the ornament of Love
With magic and complying thoughts
Decorations warn outward
An attraction to a Circus Clown
Red dress with a slit and red lip stick
Clean underwear and a hair cut
All to put on a Circus Show
Yet both underneath looking for love
Attraction is not sight it is heart
All want to attract but few know how
It’s not a night in a bar or making out in a car
Looks only appeal to the eye
Leaving the heart empty
When all that is left is
Charm
Sitting in the waiting room her sunlit day; complying to their sequence
Amid a foregone conclusion ? Appearing suddenly out of nowhere
Ineffable somehow it seems this, March two thousand twelve's
National Geographic's copy titled, 'The Journey of the Apostles....
Theocracy's last supper sublime; tableaux ? Instinct taking hold slowly
Savoir-faire walking past these doors surely tis for me ? Sanctum sanctorum
Seder thirty years now, gone by ? Why his doctor queried; Angels in the mist hieros.
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