Short Crisscrossing Poems
Short Crisscrossing Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Crisscrossing by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Crisscrossing by length and keyword.
the skies overhead
as airplanes come and depart
crisscrossing smoke trails
the smell of coffee
perking in the kitchen
wafting on the air
We're scars meshed together
Crisscrossing each other
Meeting at forbidden points
Let's meet at the wake
Line up to console the ones left behind
We're stars that burned too bright
Worn out yet leaving our fragments behind
POWERFUL STYLISTCS-:
smooth
finished
positions
rendered
fragmentary
in an AIR OF AUTHORITY
favour
extra
dimensioned
spatial
qualities
with CRISSCROSSING
sophisticated
changes
retreating
obscure
constructs
Chriscrossing Through Christianity
God will remove sin and preserve your sanity,
While we are crisscrossing through Christianity,
And continue to seek,
Both mild and meek,
As we virtually finally finding all of our vanity.
Jim Horn
Dogwalkers
crisscrossing
city streets
finding dog parks
to let loose
throw a frisbee
a bone or a stick
burn pent up energy
get the heart racing
run at full speed
back and forth
fun socializing
AP: 3rd place 2021
Truly more than they appear
Art crisscrossing their arms;
Telling where they have been,
Tapestries of life's journey;
Often mistaken for dangerous
Only seen through clouded eyes;
Every smile gentle and kind,
Don't judge a heart by its tattoo.
Looking past all those yesterdays
I closed my eyes, looking around
Rejoicing and relaxed I felt sound
Crisscrossing paths interlock
Timing the ticks of the clock
A very gentle breeze grazed my face
Another soul found an opening space
by Michael J Falotico
wiggling toes touch..
ankles crisscross and hug tight..
thighs cover and melt..
Creature claw marks crisscrossing,
Reminders on your skin
A post-it timeline
Of fear and then
You climb the grapevine
To your vices, apprehend
It all entices again
This prophecy,
Of the knife and me,
Feels like it's gonna be
As pure as milk and honey
The day is long
the night short
filled with restless dreams
crisscrossing imagery
of fictional and unfamiliar parties
trying hard to encumber life
by restrictive containments
anxious in the tossing and turning,
fearful wakening
only to find
it is reality.
I've got a sitter called Mub,
a boring hitter in a bum-
the crisscrossing of falling things evaporate with me,
as I'm seeing,
savoring moments of feelings becoming beamed,
but I get back after a whole thing,
sauntering-
and rock climbing-
and coarse rhyming,
blasting um' all off but still needing more timing.
Winter has left one empty shoe
upon the doorstep.
Around that footless mouth
tulips grow
despite the muscular winds
and a thin sunshine.
The crisscrossing of the seasons
does not confuse the land,
people grow out of themselves
as do the ants and the hedgehogs,
the green womb cannot be emptied
by just one shoe and its gaping mouth
no matter how loud it shouts.
These straight lines
Convey what words cannot.
A sharp relief from the anger, the pain.
Stare at the dark ink flowing
As the lines multiply
Crisscrossing this way and that
in an intricate web of pain.
Press too hard, and the ink runs dry.
Do I dare, do I have the courage?
Darker, thicker lines appear.
My vision wavers, the pen slips up.
No not today; I cannot
There's still ink left for another day.
Oh, how they danced as the sun shimmered red,
it dipped far away as the stars upwards sped.
Still, they danced, leaving footprints on wet sand,
Sometimes straight or crisscrossing, everything grand.
Occasionally, they stopped, and in a hug, they kissed.
Or ran to some cave that was their secluded tryst.
Time passed fast, and they returned to their bridal suite.
Before retiring, they drank champagne and pastry sweet.
Thought on the write
A Shower of salt,
in eyes you read?
To what seethes,
this creep.
For my Joyouse ooze,
of free verse.
A picking of placing,
the coolist stamp,
when my visions
Are danced in ink.
Spindle, full knitting,
crisscrossing the stitch.
Work chalkboard lessons,
of wisdom dismissed.
Then rhyme ends.
That most, if not all,
Take it for cable.
Granted.
You are it's god,
it's devil, and ribbon.
All in perception.