Short Fitful Poems

Short Fitful Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Fitful by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Fitful by length and keyword.


Repose

Blessed slumber, revival of the being nightly repose
Fitful, restless haunting nightmares, staring at the moon and stars
Bag less upright morning never stimulation needed
Form: Sijo


Premium Member Destiny's Candle

     A new candle flickers and grows
        Yet its flicker is fitful
     Soon it will flicker and fade

        Between its flickers
          its legacy’s made
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Energy

ENERGY

old tree standing bare
fitful workings underneath
grizzly bear asleep

what the earthworm hears
a mighty boiling nether
blue sky    sunshine

level plane
sky    forest asleep
mighty roiling beneath
Form: Haiku

Who

who is this shadow
who haunts my fitful sleep?
who renders me awake at night
and brings my heart to weep...

who is this forsaken
who's exiled from my life? 
who bears bitter memories
creates nothing but strife

Angel of the Night

black sky chill runs to the bone
as I shudder from the pain
fitful sleep in bed alone
a face without a name

a vision soft in morning's light
the memory soon forsaken
the one I want to hold so tight
is gone when I awaken.
Form: Quatrain


Premium Member A CROWN OF HORNETS

For what is pride but an ego's false facade

Greed a fallow field of need

Lust a liars claim of love

Wrath a harbinger of hate

Gluttony a beggars fitful dream

Envy a failures silken cloak

Sloth an active acquiescence
sin
Form:

Premium Member Strong Misgivings--

Fitful gusts
Occasional thunderstorms
Sunless cannonades
Refreshing breezes
Little gusts
Interesting seedpods
Violent lusts
Emotional whirlwinds, mistrust
Strong misgivings

7/6/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019

Premium Member Working Woman

Working Woman

The little wren hen is in a fitful mood
From scurrying all day in search of food. 
The journey is dangerous in a world so rude
Yet she dares provide for her waiting brood. 

Observations of a wren hen from my porch.
Copyright 2019
Form: Rhyme

Thoughts of You

temperature cold
inside this room
no moon tonight
darkness looms
shadows creep
across my dreams
fitful rest
for me it seems

shadows from
a recent time
fantasy plagues
memories remind
how much time
before it fades
thoughts of you
and yesterday
© Jo Bien  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Premium Member Azrael Does Devour

While fitful, impetuous, tears force to submissive dirge an enshrouded grey shadow within mine afflicted heart. In ghastly, pallid emptiness; beguiling Azrael does cajoles. "Ah, Tis only, immolation that can enchant and subdue Azrael." 2/19/2020
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Premium Member The Moon

like rambunctious boys at play clouds drift across the moon masking its face in mystery light given and then gone to soon this fitful little summer storm playing ticks whilst lovers swoon we know it can not hide for long our secret charm, the summer moon
4/8/13
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Nostalgia

Nostalgia hides within the hopes
Of the present
Sours as it passes
Tucks itself into cerebral
Alleyways
Lingers in fitful dreams
Grows as it ripens
Ignites the trembling torch of
Ageing's adolescence

12/1/2020

Any New Acrostic About Nostalgia Poetry Contest
Line Gauthier - Sponsor
Form: Acrostic

Premium Member Tantrum

There it goes again,
off into a tantrum,
hurling blow upon blow
of breakers against the rocks,
tearing itself apart 
into a fitful foam 
of rage.
Come tomorrow,
or the next, it will calm down
to a gentle lapping
of the pier, flicking out
a watery tongue 
like a child
licking a poppsicle
as if nothing
had happened.
sea

Premium Member Posthumous Humus

Four dead Jesuits,
now confirmed as child
molesters, but when alive
these monsters’ crimes,
were covered in
obfuscation.

And when they passed,
were the Last Rites recited
and are they buried
in sanctified grounds?

May their rest be as
unrestful as their
victims lives and
and the fitful sleep
of their confessors.

Cheery Morn

Quote: Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet. - Roger Miller


As
Sun rose
To new dew
On humid day,
With raised fluffy tail
A three striped palm squirrel
Endlessly cried 'chip chip chip'
Fitful at gladly chirping birds
The spring's first rain had sprinkled such joy
That squirrel wanted it all for himself.
Form: Etheree

Premium Member Falling Into a Dream

Falling through a sea of confusion Tumbling about between here and there Strange objects in the swirling tide Of some peculiar figures I am aware Hoping this moment will quickly end What is this dream, this strange affair... A memory, as breaking dawn is here at last Fitful, tangled, the mood of this day is cast
Form: Rhyme

I'M Alive

I’m Alive!!! Hot pink buds bursting On happy limbs; Plate size Iris wave “hello. Sparrow bumps perching, Salivating for seeds, and then That sweet smell of spring perfume Brushes my forehead. Joyful squirrels dart and dive In free and fitful play. Lizards linger for a little while All on a sunny morning I’m Alive!

Besieged

Besieged
by Michael R. Burch

Life—the disintegration of the flesh
before the fitful elevation of the soul
upon improbable wings?

Life—it is all we know,
the travail one bright season brings ...

Now the fruit hangs,
impendent, pregnant with death,
as the hurricane builds and flings
its white columns and banners of snow

and the rout begins.
Form: Verse

Premium Member Cold Goodbyes

I woke the other day
From a fitful dream
Covered all in sweat
I awoke with a scream

Looking all around
I couldn't see a thing
I couldn't feel her touch
I couldn't hear her sing

Right at that moment
I knew she was gone
She left me a note
Then left before dawn

I read every word
And all that she said
Thanks for the memories
I wish you were dead
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member April

April, you fetch flowers of spring to rise; 
Lacing in verdant green and fruit to reap. 
Gardens seed bloom, whist bees and butterflies 
Saunter by tippling passion nectar deep. 
Renew daytime length increase leaden skies 
Whist nighttime length decreasing; fitful sleep.



4/22/2020


Poetry Contest: Each Letter Threads The Verse 
Sponsored by: Joseph May
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Let It Be

On a dreadful drizzly evening
Traffic light turns yellow to red
No time for weaving, dreaming
You whirl in your car instead
Till you see a man begging for bread.

You call him a slob on the street
As he looks fitful, but fit as can be
Not taken by his trick or treat
You tap your pedal aiming to flee
Till you look in the mirror, and let it be.

August 7, 2017

Premium Member Mama Tells It Like It Is

Maria Josephine is our seventeenth nanny
They cannot take it
They can’t!
Junior has colic
He cries and he rants

He is a horrid little creature
Except when he is asleep
But that is fitful
His sleep is never lengthy or deep

She will leave us too,
They rarely stay later than a day
In the mean time I will get a bit of rest
For I am the mama who dares not run away.

Felinity

staccato repetition reverberating in his ears
The rattle and the spinning flicker lights
Is it all a ploy to break him in his weakened sleepless state
A way to make him grab the bars and talk?
The kitten sits and wonders at the diapered prisoner’s fate
For a feline fitful second then she walks
Away to find some other  things to do
Cruelty and torture is really nothing new

Premium Member A Troubled Soul

Falling into a fitful sleep I tossed and turned throughout the night writhing in agony I was battling with my inner demons My husband woke up and could see I was troubled he put his arm round my waist to comfort me I breathed in deeply quivered then let out an enormous fart my inner demon had finally been released oh what a relief! 10/20/18

Panned

My bones and my brains are developing rust,

I'm  pumping the handle but, it’s spitting out dust

Rain clouds mumbled, and they just kept going

Unfurled my sails but the wind ain’t blowing

I was pissing and moaning in a fitful rage

But the dried up tears left a wrinkled blank page.

The things I start always end up panned,

As my pen sits still, stagnant in my hand.
© Luke Irwin  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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