Short Constricted Poems
Short Constricted Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Constricted by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Constricted by length and keyword.
Hosed, he may not win, piehole’s constricted.
Food tossed into pipe, and wedged.
Yet, with save, he’s unhinged.
You make simple things
become crudely entangled;
Knotting up a string;
Strangled thoughts and emotions
constricted to bated breath.
Howl;
I’m throbbing
blanket of stillness;
It’s too loud to hear the scream;
Wail,
stranded obscenely inside;
Fiercely constricted
by my thoughts
shrill.
Walt Willis had a pain in the crotch.
He vowed to stop drinking so much scotch.
But that wasn't to blame
the cause was clearly plain.
His gut needed a belt with a new notch.
Her soft bosom
Her tender lap
Where a man unwinds ~
Unburdens his heart
To a sympathetic mind
Port in the storm
Oasis -- to restore, refresh
Without strings attached
Constricted or enmeshed
Freedom comes packaged
entrapped and confined
How big is your cage,
to roam and define
Always constricted,
with borders that move
Its bars of detention
—forever reproved
(Dreamsleep: January, 2021)
passion of the song of love
persisting lingering in trans
pupil constricted sun sinking in
painfully slowly clearing the fog
puddles of oil excretion of engine
passing steps punishing peace
people appear as people
Form:
These Chains that keep me tied
Struggling inside my mind
They keep me restricted
So that I cannot see
The things that matter to me
I must be set free
So I am not constricted
I must search and I will find
The key to the chains of my mind
How long had it been
since his lips touched food
Hallucinations parade before him
fork and knife, wolf and lamb
His arms outstretched
chin devours the sand
throat constricted, the flame flickers
oozing blood, consumes a man
You're not profitable
announced the sentence to the verse
and slapped him with her length
the verse gave a good long look at the sentence
staring look
(you're soo punctuation constricted)
- chasing after money makes people forget to be free
I live the invention of existing
in a constricted sensation of becoming
I want to live from life, the solution...
I long for the essence of creation...
But I fragment into
hidden projects
that reflect secret desires
while I just wish earnestly to live...!
she felt like his prey
personality deceased
no longer herself
trying to please him
angry sullen little man
enjoying her pain
she felt constricted
attempting to make him glad
her soul was dying
did she realize
she aided in her abuse
sadly I think not
Tunnel vision.
Superficial image
Of an acquired mental sickness.
Breath constricted.
Face pale, eyes bulge.
Tears of blood
Form a river and its tributaries.
Writing my own obituary.
Pen on paper, ink on snow
Snowy fields, melted bones.
Thinking fast, moving slow.
Growing old.
To thoughts addicted, in a trance
We’re a dead man walking
In love’s bliss shower, let’s rain dance
Resting ego squawking
Riding on the bliss bus
Where ego can’t nonplus
Let heart’s joy consume us
Life flow constricted
To thoughts addicted
16-December-2021
Quietus
up through the sewer into the street
nice little window
could see what i missed
the bustle of shoed feet
a purposeful din
as they kicked about the puddles
pretty ladies in sequin dresses
constricted by a velvet shawl
at the heel of a good man
a rich one
he kicked me a drink
that was the finest day
of my life
This poem could have healed,
Could have done anything,
If it had been revealed,
This poem is lost,
Between two pages of an unknown book,
Maybe indefinetly tossed,
This poem is constricted, binded by society,
Yet freely sways like the tree it once was,
And its open minded artist bursting with variety,
This poem is me.
A dime in his pocket
hope in his heart
Just his clothes on his back
but he’d make a new start
Constricted at home
he took to the road
Foraged for food
yet upright he strode
Three days and two nights
of this, all it took
For him to come home ~
let mom and dad off the hook
Fibs --
Poems --
Not lies --
Poetry --
Based on a series
That slowly unfolds like a seed,
At first you hardly notce that the fib has started,
Then the lines that were once so constricted suddenly open like branches of a tree;
This is its nature and ever-expanding essential meaning and centrifugal motion of the exhilarating Fibonacci!
Do you remember the time we worshiped the river?
We would throw our sadness and pain in the water.
Devout sacrifice meant more time,
more time,
but
there was never enough.
Sacrifice after sacrifice, the river filled with garbage
until its rotting mass,
snakelike,
constricted our new-born infant Hope.
Now on the new-land I worship only myself.
This poem could have healed,
Could have done anything,
If it had been revealed,
This poem is lost,
Between two pages of an unknown book,
Maybe indefinetly tossed,
This poem is constricted, binded by society,
Yet freely sways like the tree it once was,
And its open minded artist bursting with variety,
This poem is me.
By Janetta's Grandson Mac
Phone call
A quivering voice
Echoed through the phone
With a slight indecation
Of alcohol consumtion.
Slowly getting his thoughts out
As his throat constricted
Trying to hold back the tears
In his glass eyes.
A love that was amiss,
Love that was so far away
Yet in reach.
Hi drunkenness
Was not enough
To forget his memories,
Their memories...
Cottonwood tree wedged between two buildings
Being whipped by the wind rubbed against two
Ruff surfaces, how can survival happen
Constant change occurs never able to reach
The destiny God had prepared for you
Dwarfed roots constricted needing room
Room to grow, room to express yourself
Is it to late for someone to save you?
Only God knows your future not man
Form:
.
motes
sunbeams
spectral view
exhalation
could blow you away
I choose to breathe you in
travel via my airways
you become intoxicating
I know that you take my breath away
a constricted throat opens my mind
lay dying in imagined arms
astral asphyxiation
paved road to redemption
flickers in and out
radiant light
bathed in silk
imbibed
end
.
two souls collide
alike yet so very different
one full of strife
the other one indifferent
are we really free
or are we constricted
is it you, or is it me
a wrong so inflicted
so now please tell me
where do we go from here
do we revel in the past
or look to the future near
where ever our paths
may lead to my friend
I am up for the task
with you til the end
lament [i have the lyrics]
you don't write me anymore
i had
grown so
dependant
so
needy
so
expecting
some sort of drama
within this
rather
strile
constricted
format
it is good to be king!
©[mb]
i was led
i was to
i was to believe
vacume floating
again
from
mantel
to coal
starved
stove
like
a
windmill
in
a
windfarm
blowing
a
breeze
to
no
one.