Short Handfuls Poems
Short Handfuls Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Handfuls by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Handfuls by length and keyword.
When you empty out your
Handfuls of time and drink
From the flask of forever.
You have made it home,
For Heaven is earned, not given!
A handful of people welcome us into this world
and hopefully,
a quite different handful will see us out.
What happens in between is called life.
I mount its crest-
holding to a point of light-
this time determined to succeed
the journey begun a long time ago
by a small child
at the sea
counting lost handfuls.
The thrill of my lips pressing softly on yours
The scent of jasmine, Mr. Happy's making overtures
Nothing outrageous golly gee
Just innocent repartee
Perhaps grabbing handfuls of your lower coiffure
1 cup of sugar
2 handfuls of dreams
¼ teaspoon of wishes
And 3 pounds of memories
3 ½ cups of accomplishments
6 drops of consideration
1 tablespoon of joy and love mixed
And just a pinch of desperation
Where a flower grows,
falls a gentle rain, to ease...
all the peoples' pain!
Why the cold wind blows,
has become our shame, 'till love...
restores our good name!
Then when comes the snows,
and the fires wane, we'll ride...
with handfuls' of mane!
Maybe when someone says
They want to end their life,
They just want to take away the pain.
Replace sorrow with sunlight,
Worry with whispers of wind,
Hate with handfuls of love,
But impossibility is too strong a concern,
So ending the pain ends everything.
Two bonsai trees
craving for clouds
a few handfuls of rain
spiky nuggets
crying wine glass
fasting salivas
all might drench
taking the wrench off
the frontal lobe
letting a sprout
lift it's face
calling lips
on pointed treetops
______________________
22 April 2022
At times
I sense handfuls of warmth…
draw to face
deeply inhaling light
knowing supply infinite
and my right to breathe
all of eternity-
If I were a cleric
I might say, "It is God evident!"
But simply a poet
pleasantly finding myself
lost for lines
I transcend words
and revel in silence….
DIG
Dig with spade and a soulful heart,
Destiny’s soil chambered beneath.
Dust chalice canvas, questing art —
Dovelike Wings of lily bequeath.
Dig deep into the chasm of love —
Desired silty handfuls, free of
Debris, a blessed ruddy start.*
6/5/2018
Joseph May’s Pleiades Contest
*blessed with 2 syllables
Caught in a tangle
Of a love tango triangle
Devoted to a tank load
Of tangled thoughts
Trying to see this through
Sugar coated angles
Emotions flaring and blaring
Becoming hard to handle
So large and more than two handfuls
I'm covered in the tears
Of a thousand crying candles
These feelings have my throat
In a air tight strangle
venom running through my veins
silently screaming
scratching deeply at flesh
pulling hair out by handfuls
ripping
tearing
scratching
get it out
it's in my mind
take it out
leave me alone
please
just leave me alone
I hate this
silence choking me
words pounding in my mind
release
please give me release
it hurts
just get it out
please
As I take a sip of this so-called ‘cancer stick’
I feel my lungs blackening
I tilt my head back and exhale
The suffocating smoke turns into lovely ribbons
This soothing sensation only lasts for a moment, I am aware
When I end the life of this cigarette, stubbing it out
It will only be several handfuls of minutes
Before the lighter is summoned again
I am
Addicted.
Love
A one syllable- four letter word
That we all claim to share
But in reality know very little
about.
Sought after like a diamond-
But diamonds don't come close,
Because the rarity of love has
proven true!
For when we seek out love-
We have a better chance to
strike it rich,
with handfuls of the brilliant
stone found in love's place.
By Nicholas A. Bello
We are to receive a gift
Through a method misplaced
Handfuls of nature chaste
Wandering seeds
Sprout for us vignettes of promise
That we may look upon the world through fresh eyes
Innocuous gems
Sprout for us the warmth of contentment
That we may grow beyond the reach of suffering
Flora, give as you must
Bring hope to a budding youth
And shelter us from loss
I promise
Not to promise
Waterfalls
from careless creeks
I vow
not to allow
Expectations of mountains
in handfuls of pebbles
I declare
to be fair
about my dark
coated heart
I assure
not to impure
The scarlet blue
surrounding you
My intent
though modest bent
Heaven and Earth
is what you're worth.
06/04/20
Ma’s Tree
Bulbs, lights and tinsel
Ring memories
Each bulb a treasure
That went on Ma’s Tree
Unpacked with kid gloves
Like newborn baby’s
Kids dared not touch
Such fragility’s
Ma left the fun part
For all of us kids
Like licking the spoon
Us kids dug right in
Handfuls of tinsel
Were flung on Ma’s tree
Topped with her angel
High up on it’s peak
Bill MacEachern December 17, 2023
The soul burnning aching
of frivolous fear
is an aching crease
in my caring blown-tree
of selfless intrigue
and celeste persona
and blind wisemen
drink handfuls of
woman's persona
I bathe in dusks warm
embrace and I fall
backwards into the
wide open hole of my soul
and I wonder on the situation
of the moment
I throw back my drink and
marvel at the grace of my
life and the simplicity of birth
Form:
applaud your own
my words are stones
throwing bones
dusting thrones
leave me's alone
ha ha ha
voices through chalk
gawking like hawks
feathers on ponds
pawns release
two dollars
treat
meet meet
meat
of
the
vegetarian root
straw with soot
hollow toed foot
bopped a popped
puffing a spooned dropped
dripping from meaningful
landing in worded handfuls
just a mirage for clones
applaude your own
?
Hillary Hears a Who!
Who is an Amma slam?
One who Gives a Damn,
Just ask Melli,
Or Will, Sam or Ellie,
Our Hill who’s True Blue not Glam!
Who has a swell Quill?
Arrows that instill ,
Handfuls of Humor,
Armfuls of Amour,
Our Hil is not Over the Hillery!
Who keeps an All Size Zoo?
Variety of Color & Hue,
Hillary’s Gorillary,
Ants from Aunt Hill aka Hillary,
Empathetic Hillary Hears a Who!
What fun to shake the trees;
the wind, playful.
She doesn’t have to ask please,
nor be graceful.
Leaves not picked like apples;
flutters like snow.
Crisp like the fruit; wrestling grapples
the pile below.
The wind, playful.
She doesn’t have to ask please.
Her shake, faithful.
In Autumn, she’s ripe to tease.
Flutters like snow;
crisp like the fruit. Wrestling grapples
handfuls to go
in Fall’s blowhard battle.
We had to go outside
our different worlds to meet.
Detonations of lust
drove us into an inner-space.
That ocean between your legs
led me to dive deeper.
You grabbed handfuls of my flesh
made muscles sing
on a tightly stringed lute.
Our star got too bright
the darkness we played with
too light.
Gray was the dawn
when we left that magnetic house
where bodies were flames.
Grey that path that led us
on separate ways - blood-dazed.
I have written thousands of poems,
I have poured out my inner thoughts.
I have given the world my gift of writing,
And I have written down a lot.
I have no time to dwell on one piece,
For it will prevent my next.
Sometimes I even surprise myself,
And do things I wouldn’t expect.
I write and deliver series of poems,
Though many are sad, I’m a happy man.
But as I work twenty-four seven at this,
I have earned handfuls of empty hands.
My green in white snow
Snow blanket on your red scarf
Quake in your pockets
My nuggets of snow
Seeking handfuls of red warmth
Your hibiscus glow
Cool snow embracing
You redden further in flame
Jingle steps in veins
Let snow melt in joy
Let beauty come out dimpling
Our neurons mingling
________________________________________
Inspiration from the photo of snow on flowers
in the haiku ‘Snow Flakes V” By Demetrius Trifiatis,
dated 10/01/2017
The Praised One is here
The one who we hold so dear
Giving handfuls of almonds
The people are excited
Crowds fighting to get a glimpse
Men, women, and children, receiving his gift
The handful of almonds
It is finally my turn
The Praised one gives me a smile
Then the handful of almonds
And while all the other boys and girls had a fresh, glowing treat
I lift my hands to see mine
Only to see them broken, rotten and hardened
My handful of almonds