Short Fatalistic Poems
Short Fatalistic Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Fatalistic by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Fatalistic by length and keyword.
Emotions Contain Mortality
My emotions contain much mortality,
And found to be in a fatalistic finality;
Now not near;
Did disappear;
Forever becoming formidable fatality.
Jim Horn
Still reading John Keats.
I am your fatalistic optimist
Your sweetest selfish tryst
I strut before you naked
As I hide beneath our bed
I am your greatest battle
Yes the one who loves you best
I am sincerely yours forever
Until our lives are spent
Buying a Goat
How I negotiated for its slaughter
Was not a matter for plain laughter
Haggling, it chanced a sire activity,
Last before the fatalistic disability!
He is charging more than whole,
Maybe he is selling me the sire role!
JM
2nd February 2014
On unbearably pleasant days
she beckons the ferryman
to taxi her to the
dark places of her past
to stock up on bitterness,
envy, rancor
a delusional cocktail for the
attention-starved addict
with the trademark, fatalistic,
false sense of power.
Self-respect makes a break for it
while she coddles demons in her sleep.
Form:
Be optimistic rather than fatalistic.
Don't squander and be elated hedonistic.
Retain moving; only the obdurate survive.
Hand jives your way to contrive.
Slump or solidity must be omitted.
Wear awe mood when having moved.
Don't be shy in taking elitism.
Self-reliance is a wedge of realism.
Wonderful love dreams thrilled young Cali.
She sung of such with good friend, Sally.
Extraordinary and precocious,
her thoughts felt expialidocious.
Expialidocious were heart thumps.
Precocious fantasies raised goosebumps.
Sally thought her love, fragalistic.
Cali said, "joy's not fatalistic."
For Cali, hushed love was great enough.
I’d like to reach into my pocket
And use all those wasted times of past displacements
Stored there for just this momentous occasion
A fatalistic fantasy for immortality. . .
For I know that one day
My time will run out
But for now, I intend to keep on pocketing
And using as I please
I’ll let you know how it’s working
When I’m two hundred and three
It seems that I write and I write and I write
and somehow that's not really alright
to fritter away these precious moments
Just when did I assume I'd the right...
I sense that it's become a stale habit
a morbid ritual, fatalistic, hoary rite
Deep in my soul, I know something's not right
that I write and I write and I write...
May 23, 2019
INVESTOR’S EDGY FEELING
Numbers sticking in the investor’s mind
Always counting increments
Projecting
For a bountiful return!
But,
She knew, she is
Counting chicks in un-hatched eggs
Uncertain how many of these eggs
Crack out winners from their shells!
Fatalistic she can’t be
There is no place for pessimism
She bribes her intellect with optimism
Winning numbers glued in her mind!
this name is just
a tiny glass vessal
steadily cracking
under it's burden
the weight of waiting words
piled ever higher
encroching on the sky
entreating the fleeting glimpse
of passerby
one last thought too heavy
& as the stranger's caught
the feather light touch
of falling fingers
proves too much
so falls the tower
so shatters brittle glass
& there floats the phoenix
the egg's cage escaped
with that final fatalistic pass
Maybe it was too much punk.
Maybe it was hating school.
Could have been the loosing bets; right to think it was the bitter pills…
Here I am far past the storm.
No longer wishing I wasn't born.
Head above water but not in the sky.
From time to time I wonder why.
I'm still fatalistic.
Conspiratorial.
Still Fatalistic, head turned backwards; hair over my eyes and throwing water against the tide.
I'm fatalistic, I'm fatalistic, I'm fatalistic...
Loveless
Am not a painter
But the picture is broken
With a maze background
Its shape, loop
In the pent house
This picture stands
The man inside melancholic
Though the setup fervent
Scenarios fatalistic
To the novice fallacious
And spell binds many
Making the modest definition
The zenith of Hades
Color-flies the entire texture
That maroons the spear contrast
Benching a murky frame
Lights on, lights out
The close fastidious
And remains obnoxious