Short Fortnight Poems
Short Fortnight Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Fortnight by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Fortnight by length and keyword.
Amanda Eller lost 20-pound
Walking around unfamiliar ground
You can be sure
Our fortnight tour
Will leave you laughing at Lost & Found
The magical moon is slender tonight
In two weeks 'twill be slender and bright
Another fortnight and back to slender
Forsooth, it hasn't forgotten its (!) gender
There was once a guy named Forknife
He played Fortnite for a fortnight
He disregarded his schoolwork
Because he was doing “homework”
He’s out on the streets with frostbite.
pink,pink
persistent
protests proclaim
pussy purrs content with
his game-
on his
veranda
with much disdain-
I'll siesta here 'til
it rains
Note: We are vacation-sitting our daughter's cat this past fortnight or so
My Doctor looked quite sheepish for he had bad news to give
He looked me in the eye and said I have two weeks to live
I thought about this long and hard, then told him with a sigh
I'll take a week in April and the other in July
I had not visited my art studio in a fortnight or more
There was a large box I had to push away from the door.
The paints were excited! I could feel their emotions sway.
They began to explode onto a canvas; yelling hip! hip! Hooray!
two birds flying for fortnight
together flew down to settle
resting in branches of periwinkle
standing, gasping with freedom of flatus
then smell the sweet scents
of the princess flower of the night
piping is the Dutchman's cactus
on one strange leedom of pents
I'm sick of this weather, I'm sick of this rain.
I might run away, spend a fortnight in Spain.
Away from the clouds and away from the snow,
it seems rather drastic, a long way to go.
But think of the benefits, think of the fun,
walking about getting soaked by the sun.
As sunlight slides behind the hill
Mum sets the last stone in cherry
Yet a fortnight for Christmas still
As sunlight slides behind the hill
Painted marl makes children merry
When December dew nips our sill
As sunlight slides behind the hill
Mum sets the last stone in cherry
Cloud is crying.
Hearts sink.
Missing the song from the voice of happiness.
A long wait.
The voice
left us for a fortnight and more.
Leave the moment in sorrow.
The sadness must be drowned.
Thrown away from an innocent heart.
Cause the rain carries rainbow.
Nisa Zainodin 170314
Polarization
Word of the year..
Separation up front..
Separation appears
In love and war
And news headlines..
Seemingly what is
Until appearance
Reveals what isn't...
Merriam-Webster:
Polarization
Demure
Fortnight
Totality
Resonate
Allision
Weird
Cognitive
Pander
First evening's frost,
...a gentle touch-
to kiss the glass,
enrobing blanket 'pon the out,
neither heating, nor shielding-
...those unlucky few-
who chance upon it's love-
in the cruel chill of fortnight.
- I posted this poem but I am not sure about it. Is it fine as is, or can it be improved on?
Form:
In the assets of my heart
I had a desert of crumber nights
A jungle of the dreams to meet
I didn't forget that orchard of white roses
In which we met every fortnight
Then your unfaithfulness started sore
You are forgotten due to wounds
In craze I omissioned my destination
Now I like just a desert of imagination
Soothsayer owl was wiser than most
Kept quiet about it, was not one to boast
I heard from others how sage he was
He dressed with crystals, and a bit of fuzz
Kind of like a hippie in his fancy attire
Have to admit, I did kind of admire
The way he had with people and me
He stayed a fortnight, as wise as he could be
Is spring worth saving?
I've asked myself
or how about fall?
I seem to recall
save silent nights of this next chap
away with winter!
and rumbling ice pack
beware!
fortnight, by solar eclipse,
look back upon
the carbon abyss,
and dreams
the only way to see,
three seasons lost
shan't know
to miss!
It visited me at last,
The one which I loath to call on,
Even for my worst enemy,
Like a plantain stem fallen on its sword on bed.
Trembling,shivering,
Unable to walk,
unable to sit,
unable to think,
Unable to breath,
Oh! the tip of my tiny hair follicles,
crying song of pain,
sure, I will come back strong,
But can't vanish without a note,
Goodnight PS,
At least for a fortnight.
Alone
Couple
A crowd
Seasons
One hand
Sextet
Sin count
Octave
Cat lives
Two hands
Sports team
Dozen
Bad luck
Fortnight
XV
Grown up
Haiku
Golf holes
'nam age
One score
(7th December 2016 - entry to "duplex" contest)
Note: The 'nam reference was a bit obscure. There was a song in the eighties by Paul Hardcastle called "19" referring to the average age of a US soldier in Vietnam.
Winter has come
Allegro non molto plays out
And instantly, I am back to that day
Nebulous clouds of soft misty rain
Gently saturating my resolve
It has been a fortnight of misery
So I take pause as,
Adiago-Presto plays on
And the vanguard of my thoughts
Runs the amorphous path I have manufactured
Through the briar of thistle,
I struggle
As Presto dissolves
And another sun, sets
I fancy a fortnight in prison
I'm sure it would help with my stress
away from the strife and the worry,
away from my life of duress.
I'm not certain how I would get there,
what crime I would have to commit
but knowing how well it would suit me
I'm sure I'd find something to fit.
I dream of the recuparation
no pressure in passing my time
A lifetime of handouts and pleasures,
and all for committing some crime.
I fear my sleep.
For my mind unshackled
Runs rampant
Visiting colonies of forgotten thoughts
And unwanted memories.
It bypasses the chains
And the padlocks
Paying no heed
To their reason for being.
I feel overwhelmed
As past emotions overthrow my dreams
And invades my head
And I am consumed!
The avalanche has begun.
I feel weak
For a fortnight of insomnia
Is the price I willingly pay
As I stay awake to forget
First full moon of Vaishakha enlightened Lumbini
Before three thousand years earth observed saintly
Last night the full moon peeped through window glass
There loneliness led and my existence sought that nimbus
Noiselessly the wings came from the moonlight
Unicorn showed the reel how to remove virus kite
Starry fortnight moon enjoying tonight's pray
Healthy earth light on the physicians successful way
07.05.2020 (Chattogram City)
I will tell you about sadness
that is the scrap of flesh on the very tip of my toes
to the highest point of my skull.
I can tell you what about sadness-
when I lay my head back for a fortnight-
missing meals, missing knocks on my doors,
missing one’s absence inside my head,
and surviving- surviving still.
But when I write about sadness,
I shall write about you.
I shall write about a story that
was never given a chance to start.
People come and people go away.
People come to my life.
For a second or two.
For a minute.
For an hour.
For a day.
Sometimes even for a weekend or a fortnight.
Sometimes even for a month.
For a year too.
And for a cup of tea.
It's all about trains, I suppose,
As life is nothing but a huge railway station.
People go away from me and I stay where they leave me.
I do not travel. I am waiting for you to arrive with the next train.
Will you come soon?
Form:
I asked.
She said No.
Talked to her on Facebook,
She said No.
Shook hands with her buddies,
Befriended her mamma,
But from her it was still a No.
She grumbled,
And said No.
She thanked me for the bouquet,
But still said No.
Called her day and night
Mailed her every fortnight,
But from her it was still a big No.
Then she writes back to apologize,
But it is still a No!
Ah well, I should have gotten the message,
That was loud and clear,
When Michelle had said No!