Short Compulsions Poems
Short Compulsions Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Compulsions by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Compulsions by length and keyword.
Oh incredulous one;
dilapidated are the wits
that polished the tongue with opinions
harvested by its compulsions,
held within impetuous views, and twisted truths...
Such a mind
never construes itself as an empty pit
by means of rejection...
Oh, Incredulous One;
Dilapidated are the wits
that polished the tongue with opinions,
harvested by its compulsions,
held within impetuous views,
and twisted truths…
Such a mind
never construes itself as an empty pit
By means of rejection…
Pretty woman, ugly attitude
The supple skin has subtle cracks in its surface
Unstable actions have landed her in trouble
Why don’t people like me?
Placing blame on every individual except for the culprit
She sits sour, reeking of disgust
America, I present to you the cause of your compulsions
From where we’ve been, must be the truth,
That was sought in the hollowness of time.
Struggling to reach from the outside,
To ratify oneself.
From the innermost fragment there flows a justice,
That one greets from behind.
Leading against the vanishing compulsions of mystery,
Finishing those who follow.
It was a wonder,
How could people live so short sighted?
Until a walk outside among them revealed,
That their compulsions had chased away the stars.
When you're surrounded by lights within arm's reach -
And every urge is reciprocated ten-fold,
Then how could you ever, in your wildest desires -
Possibly expect to shoot for the sky?
Wounded by its lack
Distrustful of it
Inured to its absence
In thrall to its allure
Fooled by its simulacrum
Estranged from it
Paralysed by fear of losing it
Inexorably exposed to it
Resolved against it
Consumed by longing for it
A scholar to its foreign texts
A slave to its compulsions
Compelled to search for it
Forever
Hopeful
Breeze of freedom
And fragrance of your
Glory of your beauty
What need more?
Echo of rise
Melody of singing birds
Ready to leave home
To make free fly
I am not a bird
I have many compulsions
But willing for freedom
Make me strong to free fly
I want to touch your soul
My destination is your heart
I want to be your shadow
Till my last breathe
She's a collector of treasures;
Which by its glitter;
She measures
But soon;
Will give her no pleasure.
She has no concern;
For what others;
Have earned;
And she takes;
Without discern
She shows no devotions;
And she lives by compulsions;
And it's;
A life;
Void of all emotions.
She searches each day; for what’s got away.
And in the skies;
That she flies;
Now;
Are but muted colors of gray
Form:
It's strange to me,
to find myself smitten
with a man
who hesitates
on even the most inapt situations
that need not urgency
yet I adore him
for all the stars he ate
and words his tongue forgot to savor
when did love become so distasteful
for you, dear
I've relished in your zest
of aimless compulsions
and my belly discerns
sweet from rotten
yet I do not uproot
the fruit
you so selfishly sprout,
for it is mine
all mine to devour
I Love chocolate, this a wont deny,
I can never ever have one piece, the compulsions to strong inside.
I'll buy me a big block, then I will hide it away,
trying not to tempt myself, but the temptations just to great.
Just one piece now, maybe just one more,
give me hour an hour, now looking for the crumbs in my draw.
I love chocolate, this I wont deny,
I know it's really bad for me, with my diabetes I could die.
M.Mahauariki © 2012