Short Cylindrical Poems
Short Cylindrical Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Cylindrical by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Cylindrical by length and keyword.
Minced garlic with tomato,
onion and pepper,
thick, cylindrical pasta
Mozzarella topped--
seared until golden.
Robust yet
sweet!
*The Smiling Sunflower*
The petals of each flower frame the perfect smile
Long cylindrical petals curling up next to each other
Look how sweet and tender my sunflower is
Standing next to hundreds of others rising to the occasion
Of my coming sun
Gwendolen Rix
6-8-14
"We are tubes." She says.
I think of fish
who are a basic model
for our tubular forms,
how they swim
gulping themselves up
as they move forward.
Most don't talk of their bodies
as cylindrical,
as passageways.
I look at her
sucking a milkshake
up through a straw.
I love her tubes.
Sunrise shimmering on your hair
Strands rise and wavy like mane of a mare
Soft and silky when stretched
Preened like feathers, not wretched
Hair cylindrical or long and blonde
Or tailed-black hair, straightened and tanned
Your scent till evening that sends affectionate waves
Pet I adore with perfectionate craves...
You are mine!
Rocky trail
Fallen trees
Fresh scent of pine leaves
Scattered acorns
Wild blooms
Thundering sounds of a graceful brook
Brightly red
Cylindrical Snow flowers
Show-stoppers for enthusiastic hikers
Chirpy Jays
Traces of wild foxes
Immensity of rocky mainstays
Spring storm
Shivery gales
Sprays of tiny snowflakes
Wood bridge
Nimble stream
Magic of a mountain climb
Electric shock.
And so were those
Winter days.
Hysterical, practical
And our supplements
To fight daily
Loneliness.
Mustard in her
Nails made shooting
in the Street far worse.
A cylindrical whirlwind
of your suitcase
as you're weight lifting
And I'm drinking and
So you are you and
We're passing out now.
I spilled my wine on
the bar. On purpose.
And I wished my father
Was there.
The feel on my lips
cool, smooth, new
In my light pink box they live
small, long, cylindrical.
At school they live in my pocket
safe, secured, silent
In my red and white pencil case they reside
small, long, cylindrical.
I was scared to talk in class
a swipe for good luck saved me.
The collection grew
The purpose shifted.
I grew up and they grew out.
Parties, boys, priorities.
Chapstick, once naive, now knowing.
We strive in a round world with square believes
A square sky seated on bridled outcast clouds
Forced to hold round raindrops
Released to soak square grounds that bear round seeds
Round seeds burgeon at the labour of deformed clouds
But at the end of round days,
Out of round holes in square grounds
deformity was brought forth
A cylindrical stem bearing
on its head a diversity,
Leaves and flowers not just square or round
But straight out of a square box.