Short Curdle Poems
Short Curdle Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Curdle by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Curdle by length and keyword.
Words
clamor
and curdle
into ripened,
red embolisms
of vulgar syllables
that dam fresh inspiration
with futile, vagrant dissonance.
I diagnose my swollen fingers
as unfortunate strokes of distraction.
Eyes mirror shined
holding unborn tears
and thoughts of past
curdle in the throat
as if to kill
its source
Wrap myself in sadness
to stave the cold of the
numb
Darkness does not surround me
it is what i have become
retched, a stomach twisting curdle
sour, the bile that rises from malcontent
tearful, yet, tears are futile, a waste of water
understanding seems never to come or come too late
all one can do is suck it up and try to love again
McWhirtle me is what I read
Another contest sublime
Curdle of knee is rarely fed
The icy hot heat in time.
McWhirtle me is what I saw.
A contest that made me look up
McWhirtle now I think I know.
It might be my kind of cup.
Last night in the dark,
while in the restless curdle of old dreams,
I thought I was a fish-bird
then a bird-fish.
Even now
millions of years away
from those slowly evolving days,
if we gulp the air too fast
our hearts flutter,
wanting to swim or fly.
Listen to poem:
The force that filled this sail
blew dust off crest of desert dunes
howled sighs in forest tree-trunk array
whistled a tune in rampart rafters
lulled a wheat field to shimmery shivers
chilled bones to curdle 'n crack
tired,
seeped out a crack,
and blew away.
Among such smog-soaked folk
As curdle-coil in cloud-spun smoke
Along the grain-cut naves
Which, God-heavy, lie stiff as staves
On sad-strung ouds, yet creep
In concrete-crumbled static sleep
Over cambered cities.
Whose peaks and troughs ebb with pities;
A ring-road tidal flow
With human crest now sunk below...
It curdled.
The landscape.
Goop.
The notion the I might get that degree?
Whoosh.
Revving up to a wasteland.
And live in downed wires.
I really might have graduated.
If my organs didn’t curdle.
People look at me like I have eyes that care.
Or gratitude.
So I wailed at notions and old sticky notes.
And my soul that didn’t study enough.
Daydreams curdle in a summer heat.
He walks back from the park
dragging a wandering mind behind him
like an elderly dog.
The day gets warmer
he sends out for a margarita pizza,
wonders if lately
he has been dancing too closely
with sidewalk walking ghosts.
When the take-out arrives
it tastes as dry as kibble pie -
refried daydreams bark on.
Is someone profiting on your wishes and dreams,
renaming your parade
Like a thief in the night they steal every wish,
their own life at best a charade
Is someone else cashing the check you just wrote,
to pay for their larcenous schemes
Has your good name been kidnapped, indentured, enslaved
—as you curdle in search of the cream
(Rosemont College Pennsylvania: March, 2020)
Destined we are curdle together by nature
Though at the twin rivers shore
Believing same will provoke harmony
Bridge on the rivers and wall of our minds
Let the power that be Strike balance
Sweet home now wilderness exile
King, Obis, Emirs, Pastors, Imams and likes stoop to stooge
Politicians dictate tune of bomb
And never wait for tone
When shall we learn to live Siamese like these yonder rivers?
I wept for my darling country
the secrets of the dead tell the stories of lies
and the serpent slithers through hollow bones and flies
painful screams echoe through history and over time
the blood in my viens curdle as i listen to my forefathers voices in my mind
gestures of love seize the moments in time
but longevity and tolerance love refuses to define
in darkened night you can hear the wind through the trees
but the abscence of love can be heard by the cry of the leaves
polysemy
protrudes, prodding power
letting chiasma
churn and curdle
ply poet-marriage:
an anankean lockless key—a dower
set upon a
dorseless tower
I eat my crow,
drowned in chowder
time sealed in
the wicking willow wood
—CODA—
I don’t want to
be solved
I want to be
inhabited
working in
dream-logic
surrealist
disjunctive fissures
places where
contradictions coexist
that is—
precisely
pointless
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