Short Flinches Poems
Short Flinches Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Flinches by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Flinches by length and keyword.
Why aren't any graceful gracious go flinches going to the glorious grassy groves~
8/22/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
the old swab barnacle bill
swilled all the grog at his will
chases the young winches
and never once flinches
knows pirate love is a thrill
Pirate Themed Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
4/9/49
Jessie! I would have filled
your empty heart with my overflowing love
if you had but caught it when I poured!
But, alas! Your arms lie at your sides!
And your face flinches not as
my last drop of blood drips
into emptiness!
She sits and waits
Never flinches
Never wanes
The Blackened bride
Awaiting the return
of her betrothed
bathing in the tears
of the sea who stole her love
She sits and waits
never flinches
Never wanes
The love she cannot stop
and pain that never ends.
Wednesday Blasts Intrigue now,
Constantianus Flinches Inventory
Wednesday Atomizes Flutteriness now,
Dulcitius Plunges Editorial
Tuesday Bursts Giggliness now.
Tribunas Implements Snakes
Saturday Annihilates Disappoint now,
Maximianus Observes Zones
His Rain Songs
(inspired by Stephen Kilmer's poem, Rain Songs)
Was glad you came back, my
childhood friend from Nam.
Look at the friends of the dead;
they cry when it rains.
My friend flinches, cries, or shouts.
Forever nightmares.
The dead are resting now.
We sit and share blood the colour of wine
that ripples in glass on table which stretches
stretches stretches oceans between us. You’re
there but afar and I’m here but foreign. I wonder
what question you’ll ask me; what magnolia reply
I’d gouge out of the thinning air. Your hand flinches.
I wouldn't bother
alchemizing language
into golden press releases
of your own making.
It never works long anyway,
grapevines get better reception.
A dog knows who flinches.
Moss grows where one lingers,
even silence
leaves thumbprints.
Say nothing. Say too much.
Either way—
they’ll know you.
Heroes have many faces
Despite their deathlike pallor
The sum of any soldier
Is measured by their valor
The fear they feel in battle
But never ever flinches
Is purely a reflection
Of courage in the trenches
Even with odds against them
Will still fight to their last breath
Ever stalwartly they stand
And march bravely to their death
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the asphalt hums, a black tongue hymn—
each mile chewed, spat behind.
dust curls like thrown confetti
where the land exhales its heat.
no destination, only the chase:
sky stitching itself to earth
with invisible thread.
the radio dies mid-sentence.
you press the gas~
the horizon flinches.
the heart flinches closed,
rejecting every mending
forged from steel shadows—
no blade, however precise,
can bring love back from the hate
suturing the heart
with a Black Excalibur
needle of sour spite—
each stitch rips the heart open,
tearing the wound more open
bitter threads pulled through
despair, knots every longing,
regret draws them taut—
anger jerks the trembling hand,
tearing what you hoped to hold
Do rabbits bite?
I sure hope not
‘Cause their fur’s so fluffy
Like my cat’s
And they are well rounded
Fat even,
They look cuddly
Like a hairy teddy
And I just have to touch them!
Slowly I reach my palm
Pause it above its skin
It doesn’t move away
So I lower my hand
And touch its nose
Gentle
It flinches a little
But stays on
I touch it again
But this time
It shies away.
And I smile in relief
rabbits don’t bite after all
So that you are left barely a person
Near inhuman, but just...
Mind and body wrecked with havoc
Trying to persuade people that you are still who you once were
They fail to believe-
To remember that you are
To remember who you are
And in remembering, mind turns cheek a pale, bitter pink
So flinches the upward turned palm
That makes humility seem flawed
Purposeless and incomplete
Fading, one must, in and out of sleep
Just to be sober enough to get on.
We are a mercurial Gemini women.
Yes, you read this correctly.
We are so many personalities.
It might seem nutty to a Capricorn or Aries woman.
But we are at least six, maybe seven women
in one body that used to be tiny.
My husband of fifty years flinches when we walk toward him
in the morning.
He never knows if he is getting an upper cut to his chin
or a sexy kiss.
Our hazel eyes flash with happiness as we read his scared little mind.
We love this!
What horrors mine eyes have seen
The aches and pain of a body beaten
Scars crawling against my back
Mind still flinches remembering the pattern of attack
Innocence taken like many before
The violation on the floor
Years of senseless pain
Caused with nothing to gain
The memories I will always remember
burning low like a dying ember
And I tell the world now
With a tight little bow
A bit cracked and faded I might be
I'll never be broken
That is not for me.