Short Earshot Poems
Short Earshot Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Earshot by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Earshot by length and keyword.
Run lady run
Till your out of earshot
From the bang from the bullet
Inscribed with your name
Set to maim
But no, not you
You are untouchable
With cold infused veins
Alone destined to die
To cowardly to even try.
Out of earshot from the
Howlers and yowlers,
I'm surrounded by the
Aroma of trees.
Mean spirits begone!
Gloom and doom?
Sorry no room.
Lifted to a shore,
By Mercy and Grace,
I will search no more.
Done is the chase.
Striking like a cottonmouth snake,
but we can see nothing is real;
Bored and trying to stir the pot,
that plan is going to backfire;
As honest as a soft handshake
with your fingers crossed on the deal;
Slippery hiss within earshot,
You are just a filthy liar.
Listen to poem:
fly flitting on wall
listens to loose tongues babble
spinning prayer wheels
flinging barbs at absent foes
behind walls, out of earshot.
Soon the fly grows bored
of vain drivel chasing tales
sense left long ago—
so it slips out open pane
to sense truth in rubbish bins
My best friend
That is what
I call him
Within in his
Earshot
Privately,
I call him
Something
Much more
Intimate:
My Love
Constantly
Admiring
but always
From afar
Always dreaming,
Ever hoping
That one day
He would
Return my
Feelings.
But 'tis
A dream and nothing more
Air aided in gravel’s travel
Its ricocheting rhythm
Rhythming like the crunch
Of an ocean
The steps of someone
The left and right side
Sway as incongruent tides
Whatever winds wind up
Within an earshot, it becomes
Tapped in our orbit
Wonders of the world all around
Wondering what it will be like
To be a cherished kind of sound
Walking;
This time there was no choice,
you had started to sing;
To the sound of your voice
I had to keep going;
Why not?
I am starting to feel you;
Even in your earshot
this is what it’s come to;
You’re the prize, a jackpot;
Give in,
allow me to get close;
Go on caress my pen;
I’ll paint you into prose,
start what has never been.
With two left feet, no sense of rhythm,
Murmur of voices, giggles and gasps
Comes within earshot when I dance.
Oh, but in my head I dance seductively,
Grinding hips and dippin' with Patrick Swayze.
That 'climatic lift' in Dirty Dancing, no problo,
I fly in the air with grace and flair.
Repeated cheers and bravos I do hear,
For I now dance within my head.
The Farrier
Miracle Man
3-16-2022
With uninhabited joy sings his hammer,
upon the anvil fashioning a tune.
The “Smithy’s” life, not one of glamour,
reshapes a shoe this day in June.
Billows puffing keeping flames hot,
with shaping done there’s cooling to do.
Fifty meters and you’re from earshot,
with music concluded- a single horseshoe.
Now nail that sucker on!
I am a resevoir
of the unspoken -
words too costly
and thoughts too dear -
so silence,
the everpresent
unchanging
melody
that scores my life.
Where is the other end
of the broken
whistle on the wind?
What fragment lies beyond
earshot, or whisper lost
in a restless sigh?
Say the right words then,
say the right words -
(oh god, say anything
at all, but)
don’t let
the mute thunder
of a resistant heart
win the day.
It has been a deep snowfall. Paw prints
and rabbit runs skittering on the white.
Ice blades plummet from tree branches
with a common sharp-tongued language.
I wonder what maps are used
when the tracks disappear
only to reappear somewhere else
as if the space in-between
had lost its way.
The crackle under boot prints
is too loud,
the sky retreats out of earshot.
Up ahead more tracks
and strangely they look like mine.
You watch yourself walk a thousand miles in the span of a day,
All the while, the mind in motion, tearing through.
You feel the urgency—the endless paths,
The voices never cease; the noise is deafening.
But never within earshot—a fading love.
For you to hear it would hollow your soul.
I would dissolve if I could. Scatter across a thousand miles.
I would unravel if I could. One clean, last note.
Fear alone keeps me on Earth.
And the earth keeps me in oblivion.
For Joycee
always a Joyfully, joking, josher
Overflowing with inner opulence
Yet yearning still for love-filled yesteryears
Consistently conveying cerebral conversation
offering Easygoing encouragement to all within earshot
Evanescent to this earth ethereally existentially joined with George…
You will truly be missed,
Jill
When you start to whisper,
the hair on my neck stands up;
All I see are your lips move,
Like that! My heart starts to rush;
The softness haunts me
like a melody at 3. a.m;
Laying back on a pillow,
wondering what you said;
Was it ‘have a goodnight’
or ‘give me a sec’?
Just out of earshot
enough to make my breath catch;
All I can taste are your words,
the ones hidden in quiet;
A puzzle shrouded in mystery
a dream left for me to dream
when you start to whisper.
Deafening silence,
Roaring whispers,
Just within earshot.
Telling stories,
Asking questions,
About what is and is not.
Frantically jumping,
Back and forth,
Looking for answers.
Feeling surrounded,
Feeling scared,
Stuck in a circle of shadows.
Darkness sunk,
Within the cracks,
No sign of hope.
Needing to break,
Wanting to scream,
Find some way to cope.
Aspirations,
Exceeding the limit,
The cracks spread farther apart,
And all is lost,
In the shadows of the unknown.
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