Short Fending Poems
Short Fending Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Fending by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Fending by length and keyword.
Pinned against the bed
Your head pulsates to war drums
Calling for dreamshed,
Fending off the figmental
You fight for the best outcome
cat hisses at dog
dog retaliates growls at
the fending purring
07/14/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025©
Open a bigger locket
In devout letters
To unhinge hours morality
Fending the pessimist off
Grasping empty,
Inlaying foundations
To refine and revere the life's span
When I sing I sound like prehistoric creature
Fending off attackers, defending each metre
A scary old fellow
As I screech and bellow
And on top of that I'm a ravenous eater
When I sing I sound like prehistoric creature
Fending off attackers, defending each metre
A scary old fellow
As I screech and bellow
So beware my friends I'm a ravenous eater
When I sing I sound like a prehistoric creature
Fending off attackers, defending each metre
A scary old fellow
As I screech and bellow
So beware my friends I'm a ravenous eater
the nearest the farthest
anything in between
sureley you boast of things not seen
may the words you speak
baffle the weak
all for nothing or nothing at all
on my feet as you crawl
standing still
perpetual way
fending off
your dismay
last line pasted time.
Form:
“Cold Dead Heart ”
Beauty like the (warm) sun’s morning gaze
Freshness of earth, the coming day
Like morning I was wet from the dew of life
Fending off these cold, cold nights
Supposition presumed, uncounted
Living in life as lost as laughter
Reborn by her touch
And given hereafter
Listen to poem:
you’ve gone
and
in a vacuum
left me
desolate
alone
fending for myself
without a hope
or dream
to roam
in wait
until
we meet again
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on July 29, 2020 for contest STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (3) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - Honorable Mention
I am back on my bench
With the river in view.
People walk by in t-shirts;
The sky’s bright and blue.
There’s one small mound of snow
Which is coated in black.
It’s refusing to melt,
Fending off spring’s attack.
Flowers haven’t appeared
But the stage has been set.
By tomorrow, that snow
Will be gone, I would bet.
Blinking and breathing in secretive silence
Fending off feelings of misapprehension
Trying to function in passive compliance
Ignoring repeatedly twisting of tension
Sitting in darkness with nothing to mention
Blinking ’s a sound of sightless defiance
Waiting for light to blithely appear
Knowing that reason can deal with the fear
Ahead it hums and it glows
An arm stretching and streaking and bending
Mattering only to itself where it is going
Fending off the sky and the dirty water.
Behind it waves to me through the blurred past
An old foe it remembers with determination
A serpent in wait slithers away beyond the mirror
Wait for I will be back this way old friend.
Why does the longing of lived wax melt clean off your wicks?
Oh, how do you hold a capillary existence fending off the ticks?
Over and over to lay wasted during the cold times, of treats and tricks
Daylight will return beauty to you in magical ways after the season of the sticks
Save your strength, take time to slumber; why be awake to witness the politics?
Happy in marriage I am
I look at myself before
now I see someone else
mouth is long with complains
fingers rough with fending
hair has migrated with stress
stomach a storehouse of issues
back bent with burdens of love
voice that of a bull frog
I sleep long, dream nothing
for my best friend to this day
is my matrimonial bed
not my matrimonial partner
but the whole world tells me
I am happy in marriage!
For long I worked in varied jobs,
Fending from bosses their dead lobs.
Retired, I find it tough
Getting not a day off
From new boss-- no more like doorknobs
Who demands, better learn
Your daily bread to earn,
Stern, she chases, all my peace robs.
But too late to regret
For having lost the bet,
Me, a harness horse oft called cobs.
________________________
Happenings | 20.08.2025 | humour, husband, horse
In fending off, the questions,
after mutilation,
a maverick was asking,
would you go beyond the species ?
Escape was not an
abstract. It was a concrete evidence
against the bleed and hurt.
Invocation was becoming absolute necessity.
The poetry of death has
many stanzas. The tribe wants
it share, but I will write
about the beauty of dying sun.
Silence was a true poem.
You speak some inaudible words.
Satish Verma
Winter wolf sees me through,
Guarding me with sheer love,
Fending off the pack,
Making sure I am nurtured
Understanding my pain,
Soothing me in ways only he can.
Keeping me away from others,
Keeping me safe.
Winter wolf, my best spirit animal,
Comes to me in my dreams,
Assures me all will be great
If I follow my heart
He keeps me in his sights,
Day and night,
Guarding me with sheer love
Fending off the pack.
I feel loved.
Magic
Tick tock the wall clock
is keeping time
Wait, worry, wonder
spend another dime
Talk to my maker
about daily wonders
Discussing my behavior
and my hundred blunders
Lighting candles of white, gold, black
Fending off my demons trying to come back
Sigils for protection
drawn in the dust
Trusting my wards
is always a must
Speaking words of truth,
speaking words of power
Speak them loud with meaning
come the witching hour
The amount of time
Alone
Comfortably
Authentic awareness
Suddenly
December
Crawled quietly
Fall fell asleep
My mind
Along with it
How boring
Annoying I must
Be entertaining
Ghouls, goblins, with
Death still friends
With my nightmares
Friday today
My bed, these words
Is what was ate
My mind, I
Thank water
Fending off
Music hearing
It ready, tuning
White noise
I should thank
It before
She calls on
The others
Form:
Pitter patter on rain polished pavements
Tears straggling down window panes
The rattle of ricocheting raindrops on galvanised rooftops
Spiralling eddies in bull's eye puddles
Umbrellas ,shields fending off the sharpness
Of blasts of non-stop water bullets
Insidiously a soft drizzle penetrates
Right through to the skin
Producing shivery limbs
And chattering teeth
Transformed by the sun into glittering diamonds
Which disappear with the welcome arc of the rainbow.
Suzy Baker was genuine white trash
Scorning fiercely, her teeth ready to flash.
Fending her homemade trailer park jungle
Dodging her dark and imminent funeral!
Lucy Walker was a pretty lady
Smiling friendly her lips always ready,
Living quiet in lovely suburbia
Meeting non-whites with xenophobia.
Why did the potter create them this way?
Was it because there were two types of clay?
One forged as a Cistern the next as an Urn
And exactly whom should this mess concern?