Short Decayed Poems
Short Decayed Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Decayed by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Decayed by length and keyword.
decayed junkyard swarms-
disgusted maggots noise
Created on 11/18/14 for- “One Broken Monoku” – Poetry Contest
They knelt behind a photo booth humming
hymnals to a tooth-
decayed brand of gen X truth—
old gods' wants reclaim the youth.
tunnels of silence
abandoned decayed
naked grain of
love
splendour of roots
purple grapes
seedless
turquoise green
abundance
of hope
Form:
opposite sexes
in front of a decayed installment
there were two figures
one observer
posing in front of the installment
they were semi-naked
loving and caring
words spoken without thought
heart turns hard as rock
Show Me Contest Of Brian Strand
3rd Place Winner
I found a lovely button
put it in a lovely clay pot with good soil
and watered it religiously each day
with time and love
it decayed
and rotted away
Wilted leaves leave fall
frost bitten in decayed states
flowers must bloom soon
In the mirror She sees
a heap of decayed images in fire,
Smoke cladding her soul
her pulse in hibernation
... a delusion?
... or the quest for liberation!
I have become ash
Decayed for decades
What happened?
To my lithe thoughts
And deft digits
That could churn
Heaviness into brevity
And paltry pursuits
Into wee nuances
At a dead man’s throat
lies the rain drenched woolen scarf
that stifled his screams.
Cold Winds howl through decayed trees -
witnesses in the shadows.
I saw a lone flower,
very delicate and pretty,
in a soft shade,
on a day windy,
it danced and swayed;
unaware . . . its friends had decayed.
pressed flowers, held dear of someone lost
turned crisp
between yellowed pages
which have begun to stick
once beautiful
now decayed and lost once more
Bite size poem no17 poetry contest
Obsessed with body parts... who me you say?
I can take them or squeeze them... wanna play?
Harmless I am
This naughty old man
Experience I've got, though some parts have decayed
Flowers were seen covering the tree yesterday,
Today they have fallen into the pond in decay.
The hard blow of the east wind is not to blame,
Blooming and withering are naturally the same.
(tran.)
Daddy was a health nut, ran five miles a day
Was proud as hell, more proud than I can say
Eat sensibly like him
But not nearly as trim
Working on it but at 20 years older, more decayed
The setting sun is blocked by the parting grief,
Yet, I’m glad to head for remote world in relief.
As decayed fallen flowers are not ruthless stuff,
They turn into earth to make darling buds tough.
(tran.)
The midnight masquerade ball.
Seemingly slight brocade shawl.
Beseechingly glance, decayed hall.
Haunted trance, unafraid fall.
Vaunted skies evade all.
She tries dissuade call.
Decree daylight, unmade, befall.
How does a healthy rose with grown thorns
Take the time out of their day
To degrade a decayed rose without any thorns
For having to grow up in poisoned soil
That the planter so willingly decided to bury them in?
Families searching for their loved ones
After the mud has settled to the ground
And water is flowing at a normal pace
But all that left are the little memories
In forms of clothing, pearls or
In their decayed form as a skeleton
Low and lonely, but not to succumb
Through warring thoughts a pitfall deep
Ireful, rueful, contort
This speaker’s blunder deemed
Subdued with met solution
Devil’s plot decayed
Ruinous intent aborted
Blithe courage keenly resumed
On a corner one day
And another the next
I pay a high price
Just to be in debt
As awnings sway
And angels pray
Keep me safe another day
I owe you not now or then
But my pain is forgotten
Your spoils displayed
Decayed and rotten.
*3 haikus*
I am enjoying
this dull time - this decayed life
of extinguished hopes
Each sublime sunrise
finds my morning mind childishly
wishing for freedom
If wishes had power
If young tears were a vaccine
If our thoughts mattered
bitter cold winds blow
to touch a birds folded wings . . .
trees drop brittle leaves
winds whisper a chant
for a whirling twirling dance . . .
yellow swirling wild
winds lift the scarred hued
the withered fragile decayed . . .
red and orange curl
Freshly served, old or decayed
The taste of heartbreak is the same.
Whether soaked in hot baths or cold
The pain only gets worse I Know.
Lonely and deserted you may feel
Hopeful I think you should be
For anything you can live with
Makes you stronger believe me!
Ghastly halls that lead to Euphoria
Shattered glasses with reflections that mimicked her death
Being hanged but not dead
Sorrowful laughter and slit wrists
Decayed internally but still breathing
Candy coated poison to seize her thoughts
And death, to ease her pain.