Short Disjoint Poems
Short Disjoint Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Disjoint by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Disjoint by length and keyword.
With a plastic and stainless steel joint
Which was his very authentic point
A Viagra pill, he!
The ******** up_glee
Then a plastic and stainless disjoint
I found her beautiful on the inside
And honored her for time
When all along my feelings changed
and now she's beautiful on lime
But then it changed to something more
and she would disappoint
My life a fool; she was not cool
and I could now disjoint
Drawing lines between shapes of grief
Going in circles, awaiting the lietmotif
Now just a side of a triangular run.
With defences up like the Pentagon.
Then finally looking Love square in the face
While Hope's line slopes down in disgrace
Calculating a Geometry too disjoint
For Love to have a basic point.
In a dream open of basket of nightmares
My head disjoint from my body
Pie in taste thought is still great
Seeking my rest of half chasing black cat
Let me put my anger seeking revenge
Wear to gather all madness in cone hat
If I’ve ever sail in wind in soul of my children
How I dance in big floor blowing one each day
Be a Poet ...
stop trying
to become one
give yourself up
to the sound
Within your lyrics
are so many
pleadings
feelings disjoint
and impound
Open the gate
and let out the dogs
the last fox
almost over
the hill
Scream
if you must
those whispers betrayed
until all that’s been empty
— is filled
(The New Room: September, 2025)
We’re losing America
while losing our minds
Our spirits in hiding
our souls hard to find
The nation in freefall
all fingers to point
One side at the other
common values disjoint
We’re losing America
in front of our eyes
A narcissists poison
our heritage dies
Each part is now greater
than the sum or the whole
What our patriots died for
lost, forgotten—untold
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2018)
“To love, or not to love?” that is the point,
the focus which peers lose beyond disjoint.
To be like gods among men, and unloved,
is woe: even wild beasts are not unmoved
by these fragmented, lone, unearthly souls,
for whom the scroll of history unrolls.
Men, being so much better than feral beasts,
should shun (and despise!) the vile, evil feasts
of their hate: then love these wide-browed seers, men
and women like the wielder of this pen.