Short Draw Out Poems
Short Draw Out Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Draw Out by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Draw Out by length and keyword.
Night
draws on
Darkness wrap
around the world
like a hefty blanket,all
put head down
Hush draw out
with the
night
Among all which draw out our breath,
The greatest of fears is nothing but death,
Which you feel follows everywhere you go
Yes, but not to those who follow this foe.
M an of God,yet sinner too
O rdained to rule and guide
S aviour of the Hebrew side
E xposotor of the word and law
S inger of songs..and author
See more at Ex 2 Acts 7 Ex 4 Deut 5 Ex 15 Deut 32
vague indefinite
future outcomes
filled with undertones
of indistinctive
rules and regulations
that must be followed
in an attempt to draw out
the inevitable condition
of a future lost in indifference
Love has many powers
it can bring you to your knees
can rip your heart like paper
then mend it back with ease
can draw out tears of sadness
and also tears of joy
can make you smile at someone
who's trying to annoy
Love is all around us
no matter where we turn
Love can be so simple
yet hard for us to learn
Form:
She speaks Spanish,
I don't understand a word,
but she becomes irresistible,
luring me by a call surd.
I wish to make love to her,
while she whispers in Latin;
I will draw out all the honey
that Spain has begotten.
Let all the fair girls of the world
beware of my intention:
I will not let this age end
without our union.
Thoughts on the edge
of an ocean
where waves kiss the sand
Wishing it's frothy motion
could draw out my poison
Craving a certain happiness
or at least to be okay
Burning need within me
to change my ways
Spasms of pain feels
memories that paint my
essence so dark
Even though I've forgiven
those who on me left their mark
2:36 a.m.
the witching hour is near
I am wide awake
Drink coffee
Draw out three canvases
ink them
erase the pencil lines
stare at my paints
Am I a bit tired?
It is a Monday, a working day
I pick up my paint brush.
Put it down.
Write ten poems.
Look at my I-pad.
Think about playing my word games.
I work today!
What am I doing?
I am not a bit tired.
I drink another coffee.
The deep solace of my mind
Is compelled to draw out
The imperfections of my being
I stand at the alter of faith,
And beg for guidance.
In this world of youth and beauty
Arriving at my middle age
With no more a perfect body or mind,
Who is left to guide me?
When the populace says
No longer are you worthy
To give opinions, your age makes you a fool
And we are interested no more.
Lynn Barany
Wisdom grows alone
darkness eyes attend
wakes the light slumberer
Deep in wet dreams
respect waves the buried
grounds for divorce
Wind weather attitudes
cries mount
lies draw out
Greens wild the untamed
beast burdens the walled
shaft and base flowers
the unschooled gather names
foothold finds rest
virgin aroused the sleeper
Taste for the end
tomorrow another day
what was paradise?
My hands tightly closed to a fist again
The blood running
Pulsating
Wanting to draw out anger.
And it opened, lending a hand
The blood rushing
Anticipating
Wanting to draw out of happiness.
Then fell down, unwillingly
The blood flowing
Excruciating
Wanting to draw out pain.
Can’t help it, can’t stop
If these hands want to feel
The rush, the want
Of what it’s purposed to.
Once again…
…I penned.
I'm a poet cowboy, and I write the west
When it comes to a contest, I show them who's best
I call my horse Kipling, what do you know !
And my dog's a dachshund named, Longfellow
When bad authors write into Poetry Town
I draw out my pen, and I rhyme them down
I alway get the girl, in her store bought bonnet
And you can read us write away, into
Into the far distant Sonnet
Hee-yah ! This is enough exercise for a Sunday !
It still hurts from the cutting train
And I can’t find my bleeding legs
I hate this unbearable pain
So I pass it on to my “friends”
My blood seeps out with cold hatred
As I draw out my crimson scythe
Their slow, brutal deaths awaited
In the same way I lost my life
My victim’s eyes grow wide in fear
When I swing my starving weapon
He bleeds a single unseen tear
The cloth on his stomach reddens
Half his body slumps to the ground
And my next victim has been found
NOVEMBER NIGHTFALL
Color falling, slow and steady,
covers sidewalks, gold already
crunching under feet, home trodding.
Wind blows tree tops, like heads nodding.
Early night-time’s dark disguises
draw out moonlight. High it rises!
Inside houses, people huddle.
Under blankets, pets they cuddle.
Sipping mugs of steaming cider,
propped on pillows, stuffed with eider,
folks then open books of stories:
quests, adventures, love, and glories!
Used: PS
November 25, 2020
I was in pain, but I have ignored it
Feeling excited on this fresh new virgin day.
I could use my eyes and draw out a canvas
study a tree, watch butterflies, enjoy that puffy cloud.
I could use my voice
Say hello to a stranger
Make elaborate wolf howls
I could use my nose
Smell the meatballs cooking
Enjoy the whiff of oregano
follow the fragrance of parmesan
or I could sit here
loving the day
enjoying the patio of this Italian restaurant
not caring that I cannot whistle