Short Consonants Poems
Short Consonants Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Consonants by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Consonants by length and keyword.
I am so tired
that even with word candy
I feel so tired that the consonants
further exhaust me ...
So dismayed that I don't even speak,
I'm became a child
just babble
uh uh uh ...
Energizing all words
agglutinating vowels and consonants
soaking up the sounds and noises
I erected the pristine foundations of poetry
finally, I created myself
poet... !
The rolling of the tongue when the lips
depart each other. The sounds of
the consonants and vowels,
The passion to do so
with e'vry heartbeat.
Knowing that the
truth is told
by the
eyes.
AN AGING PAGE
on a frozen floor
silent consonants scatter
smelling of black roses’ filth,
chair without audience
fleeing from abused vowels…
now alone, an aging page
Did you go
to the gym
the Poet asked
Or just write
weakened
the verse untasked
The vowels and
consonants
stay unflexed
With words
atrophic
— their muscles vexed
(The New Room: December, 2024)
“You play words like an instrument”
someone once said
Each vowel as a whole note
to consonants wed
High praise from a seeker
deftly looking for more
New songs in the making
—words singing du jour
(The New Room: March, 2023)
*Image of Nick Jonas by Giphy.
Myth
Psst hymns shyly sync shyly.
brr rhythm brr
oooo uuuu
tsktsk shh pfft
***Onomatopoeia
Title & Prose; consonants
Haiku; consonants-vowels-consonants
2020 July 11
A book with no cover,
a man with no name
Vowels dormant and muted,
as consonants reign
A plot with no purpose,
an ending refrained
Its message in conflict
—with footnotes of pain
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2015)
I is a vowel,
I am a man,
Part of the
Human alphabet race;
A powerful letter or word,
Searching for other
Consonants and vowels
To combine with,
And tell an everyday story,
Finding form and meaning:
A letter has potential
To become a spoken word
And bring happiness or despair,
Becoming lost in a breath of air.
I live in a world of words
That constantly spins around
A solar system filled with verbs
And planetary nouns
Syllables that hold me down
Like the 3 in gravity
Consonants in and out
Is the oxygen I breath
Adjectives and adverbs
My galaxy abounds
In this world I live of words
That constantly spins around
U.K. ALPHABET RHYME
ABCDEFG, HIJKLMNOP, QRSTUV, WXY and Zed
Now I know my ABC and can even remember it when in bed
If the vowels were blue and the consonants red
I could hold the pattern even clearer in my head
And with the British rhyme of the last letter said
I’ll probably still recall it after I’m dead.
Ink spills purposely on paper
forming letters of certain alphabets
to vowels and consonants.
Though speechless, one puts
forth effort to enunciate and
pronounce aloud the syllables
carefully to articulate loves interest.
Do you
want to
be my
one
and
only
Love Interest?
Pace INK-U-SCRIPT
03-07-13
I draw 7 tiles
trying to build
off of the center word
in this real life game of scrabble
nothing I can construct
from this soul of vowels
no consonants
in my heart
the game plays on
your turn is quick
your tiles better
your heart unscathed
no words to make
to lead me forward
after the board is folded
and the game put away
What is the substance
of nothingness
With nothingness the substance
of thought
Where is the truth
in indifference
Apathetically frozen
when taught
How then to measure
reluctance
With action the villain
of time
Seeking to baptize
the vacuum
Where consonants hide
—from the rhyme
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2023)
A house of words
Alphabets, vowels and consonants
Syllables and phases
Numbers and symbols
To make us laugh, sad, wonder, puzzled, entertain
Inspire us, motivation, and uplift
Keep us busy
Give us knowledge, insight, wisdom
Facts and dates, measurements and updates
History and current affairs
The house that gives life meaning and purpose
Space-Poet
Stand and deliver! this new bundle for your life
Never you knave, I’m a muse not some midwife
Bring me warm water, and lots of clean towels
Did you not hear, I use consonants and vowels
Too late it’s coming, goodness feels like a tome
Not really, congratulations! it’s a bite size poem
Bitesize Poem no.53 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
10/08/22
Yesterday an old,
dusty notebook appeared on
my desk which I have
never thought to read
or even open again.
It was the book of
days filled with your words;
heart shards of mine which I kept
for another life;
for another me.
But now on I cannot tear
apart my gaze from
its pages for I yearn
to morph into one with your
own vowels and consonants.
My pen was blocked; no more poems would flow
My consonants were suffering from constipation
So I made an appointment to see the doctor
After a thorough examination of my pen
His diagnosis was pronounced
He looked me in the eye and said "Jan, I’m sorry to say you have …
Irritable vowel syndrome"
Thankfully this is a fiction write
07-09-17
Alliterative adjectives
Are like poetic additives
That rearrange raw rhythmic rhyme
So sonnets sound more-so sublime.
“Aggrieved aggressors,” “Angry Aunts”
“Outraged oppressors,” “Haunted haunts”
Are all alliterative bits
That prod poor poems into hits.
Consider how this very verse
Without alliteration would be worse.
For con-sequential consonants
Create quaint quotes of consequence.
I Watched TV last night
a musical special--
not one
of the young singers
had taken time
to learn proper breathing,
to smoothly exhale vowels
crimp the consonants
unlike even the basic cable guy
executing wire
relieved at least
they are not physicians
at my throat--
pools of blood
wail the mystics
bemoaning the letting
intimately knowing
our relationship
to Spirit Divine.
you chew the words
and the letters bleed
what you say makes no sense
the vowels run down the chin
the consonants look like crumbs
and spread out on the floor
I'm almost giving up on communication
I hear what you say
but I don't understand anything
we have two universes here
in one of them you rule
living in the world like a king
in the other I feel like a sewer
with my ears that accepts everything
words in the form
of orgasmic poetry
spew from out me
but as of late
me being
a truant
troubadour
in need
of more
education
displaced heart
palpitations
in need
of a teacher
but only thee
though reaching
across countries
across a sea
in expressive wit
with a width which
in need
only thee
who can put to
gether
gathering
my random vowels
and consonants content
making my Muses'
orgasmic
poetry
Form:
Jumbled words inside my head,
collected from the books Ive read.
Paper sheets by the millions,
Vowels and Consonants by the trillions.
Pictures letters so absurd,
each dot and slash and every word.
Flash before me has I write,
I see them all in black and white.
Both a comfort and a fright,
sensory of my delight.
If I don't read how can I write,
words with pleasing letters?
But if I read when will I write,
and make my poems better?
There's consolation in knowing
the rise and fall of angles;
the whorled tempests of
alpha and omega.
Liquid vowels
and hiccuping consonants
curiously curled around
the pith of visions.
Silent expressions
circumcised by dots,
paused by chubby tadpoles
that pollinate fertile thoughts
with deliberate moments.
Hyphenated hybrids
capture imagination
in new-sprung, cursive concepts.
But Oh! How I love
the silent ellipses,
the endless music of
The End...
His Name
I forget, sometimes
But the wind clings to his name
Drags it through the trees
And on summer days
It battles with the sun
For a place in my ear
Each syllable stinging my ear drum
Into a child-like shrink
And it nestles in the bronze heights
On the edge of September
Only to fall
Consonants crunch beneath my feet
My heart falls to my wrists
Where it pounds desperately against my skin
I pull at my sleeves
Hold them tight in my fists
And wade through the bronze ocean