Short Cyclopean Poems
Short Cyclopean Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Cyclopean by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Cyclopean by length and keyword.
Lo, a cyclopean ready to devour;
Lo, a silver-tongued serpent hissing while crossing;
Lo, a mysterious land full of creatures;
Lo, a lupine howling so frightening;
Lo a phoenix from oblivion has risen again;
Nemesis a punisher of evildoers has come;
Lo, I wake up and its a dream.
Halls of steel and concrete,
massive Cyclopean towers
of immodesty where moguls
bask in gross extravagance.
Children in neglect,
souls with haggard faces,
ekeing out their livelihoods
with hopes and modest means.
Versions of prosperity;
the rich man pads his pockets while
the poor man haunts his tenement,
struggling to smile.
...for Hart Crane
Halls of steel and concrete,
massive Cyclopean towers
of immodesty where moguls
bask in gross extravagance.
Children in neglect,
souls with haggard faces,
ekeing out their livelihoods
with hopes and modest means.
Measures of prosperity;
the rich man pads his pockets while
the poor man haunts his tenement,
struggling to smile.
...for Hart Crane
Halls of steel and concrete,
massive Cyclopean towers
of immodesty where moguls
bask in gross extravagance.
Children in neglect,
souls with haggard faces,
ekeing out their livelihoods
with hopes and modest means.
Measures of prosperity;
the rich man pads his pockets while
the poor man haunts his tenement,
struggling to smile.
...for Hart Crane
Halls of steel and concrete,
massive Cyclopean towers
of immodesty where moguls
bask in gross extravagance.
Children in neglect,
souls with haggard faces,
ekeing out their livelihoods
with hopes and modest means.
Measures of prosperity;
the rich man pads his pockets while
the poor man haunts his tenement,
struggling to smile.
Stars
Mute ancient witnesses
Deep in a universe where the magic of matter is made
With your Cyclopean eyes
You saw how Earth’s inhabitants grew
How we evolved and stood up on our feet
Turning grunts into speech
Paws into hands
How fire amazed us
And the wheel
And the secrets of atoms
I am asking you, stars
Have we humans become so perfect
That we are able to see our imperfections?
He calls me over to the park bench:
Wanna see something?
It lolls from his open fly
partly erect. The dark ,
almost silvery in its salt and pepper
rookery.
Your willies come out Mr.!
As I stare, it rears
as if to threaten the entire city
with a bold cyclopean gaze. A monster
only Superman (my other half),
could battle against.
I’m telling mum, I fling over my shoulder,
as I run,
all my heroic-powers gone.
He calls me over from the park bench:
"Wanna see something kid"?
It lolls from his open fly
partly erect.
As I stare, it rears
as if to threaten the entire city
with a bold cyclopean gaze. A monster
only Superman (my alter-ego),
could battle against.
"I’m telling mum", I fling over my shoulder,
as I run,
my heroic-powers forgotten.
Behind me -
a villain's brazen laugh.
In front of me –
a troubled puberty.
How bright and jovial is the summer sun
Promising life and fertility
How different the October one
Dealing death and aridity
No longer do we espy a golden glow
Now there is but a dark blood red orb hanging low
Cyclopean with its brooding ,glowering glare
Sinister in its Saturnine stare
It is but the harbinger of a deathly gloom
There to lead Persephone down to her Plutonian tomb
There she will,with Demeter's reluctant assent,stay
Until the shoots of spring come out to play.