Short Histories Poems
Short Histories Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Histories by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Histories by length and keyword.
In river of dreams
floating past our histories
we drifted along
swept up in life mysteries
off edge of reality
Written 2-28-2016
The knights that in histories lurk,
They never wore spandex to work.
O’er heroes today
That dress in this way,
The dragons, they snort and they smirk.
' Time '
It's valour .
The
Innumerable mysteries ,
Memorable histories .
Illegal streaks ,
With
Lovable piques .
But the time
For you ,
Its never bleak .
So live the moment the,
Destiny
A sky once covering is now falling upon us
Destroying histories where societies stood
Taking without clues, lives truly enriched
Flooding away a past, eroding the memories
Becoming only pertaining to moving forward
An ending, for certain, not maybe or could
Vibrations quiver in smoke-filled
volcanoes or parlors not much
difference.
You suck mine, I'll suck yours
both of us feelin'
for stuff that don't suck.
The difference between a fist and a
palm.. umm..
why is that not “duh!!”?
Mysteries, histories
and so on...
Behind each charge of valour
Undeflected off Death's stare
Spirit is confessed. A shield
Held of a self luminous, scorching ware.
Search the histories, thick for
The unfanciful! In vales'
Open wounds of disclosure.
That shine out with great sacrificial tales.
STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
two strangers in the night met
no names were exchanged
no histories were unveiled,
only shared glances
wind sighed through gaunt tree branches
in each other’s eyes
a shared moment, communion
of sacred journeys
Tires grind,
Long car rides,
Never seize memories.
Wheels turning,
Forever thinking,
The next step.
Prepping myself,
For outcomes,
In the past.
Lasting through the present,
Giving future mistakes,
Taking fates turn.
Writing histories pretense,
While running out,
Of Time,
To exist.
BY THE RIVERSIDE
As I sat by the riverside,
Calm and running wild
Deep inside of me, waves clash
Sabre-rattling for supremacy
As I sat by the riverside,
Blurred images, fleeting past
Renaissance, reminiscence
Pruning past histories
As I sat by the riverside,
A macabre dance of swords
Flash of imagery
Lessons scar marks upon a rivers diverse edge
when hungry bodies search there not just to be fed.
Twilight streams dream wiggles down upon each shore and
lullabies glisten from notes lit high up above.
Rivers float yearning histories like mysteries,
easily in fickle-dark, nimble, deep waters.
These stone eyes devour
chiselled by the empty rain
buffed by the dust of histories remnants
Touching life with crackled fingertips
The portent unformed smile
that labours at the stone hearts
that drift forever by
Punished wings that mock
at feet unmoved
Pass me with your time
Unfelt this obelisk heart of mine
He called the night air
Soft pads, she was there
Flashing eyes in joy greet
Alpha male now complete
Hunters moon doth guide
As pad and path confide
Fear rules, scenting air
Danger lurks, all is care
Forest home, gently stride
Stars above act as guide
King of all except for man
Histories lesson, avoid if can
I wish I had the voice of a bird in flight,
To sing melodies of love and light,
To capture moments in a timeless rhyme, And weave emotions through space and time.
A poetry that speaks of life's mysteries, Of love, loss, and all its histories.
A language that whispers to the heart, Guiding souls from worlds apart.
before script
stories
before their histories
told in rhyme and verse
so early humans
can remember
as they wander
gathering plants
they eat
stories
seek
inspiration of land
of flora and fauna
of the song in the wind
they’ve come to know
of mating
before love
lives metered
shaping realities
of tribal minds
We jumped into a river of dreams... together
Lazily drifted over histories... swept up in life mysteries
Swift current dropped over edge of reality... back on dry land... alone
Written 2-18-2016
For 'River of Dreams' (three line poem or 3 Monoku)
By Poet Destroyer A
Form Chosen: Three line poem
Tenth Place
Biographies of different kinds
Orwell with Atwood, intertwined
Old books, new books, a thousand rhymes
Keeping their words, holding those lines
Singing caged birds, sit whistling chimes
Histories, mysteries, marking time
Every volume, fixed on my mind
Lexicons, for a world we can't find
Fact versus fiction, yours and mine.
sacrificing self for better or worse is almost too much
the exact outcome's unknown and you do lose not win
you now know blindness but one day may see truth
rather than just what's true there then not here now
the stage is a play written so many time cycles ago
as histories clock and the actors obituary measure
stan sand
Listen to poem:
Magical madrigal mystical minstrels making melodies
Radical refrains remaining retaining righteous remedies
Virginal virtuous vibrational verses voicing victories
Harmonical heavenly healing helping heroical histories
Jan.16.2020
Twist my Tongue
Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter
N/A for contest
aliens talking
and humans understanding
that's a deep problem
histories meanings
are language evolution
in any speech form
cognition is skill
what number the dimensions
aliens see through
repetitions build
communication word skills
showing examples
what common contexts
mean translation of meaning
to us and to them
stan sand
Born of the human race;
Having fallen from grace;
We have committed sin.
Before our life begins.
Cruel concept some say;
Adam’s guilt was conveyed;
Matters not in the end;
Calvary’s cross did mend;
We have been forgiven.
For forever living;
Simply except the gift;
Healing histories rift;
Now as you shall forgive;
You shall be forgiven.
at the art museum
I saw paintings
sculptures and
prints
and read their descriptions
their stories
their histories and
their reasons
some of the the descriptions
were a work or art
unfortunately
in some cases the descriptions
were or made the work of art art
The toilet cleaner
A tough stains remover
A germs killer
An odour refreshener
A smart cleaner
Even the dirtiest place
Will shine again
But never for the curses from our mouths
But never for the devils in our hearts
But never for the guilty stains in our histories
And so urgently to be found
The super cleaner
And so urgently wanted
The super cleaner
Post mark officials bleed into me
Redundant spell of auction burning
The microillusion out the back of skull
Near emerald waters with midnight pearl
Shining their mystery in the morning
Bereft of goals, spinning seagulls
Rewind ripples out of origin
To be among men and books
Lightning strikes frozen lips
Thawing histories of the past
As curtains draw on a closing era
Entertainment
All we talk about
is death. We see it
on TV as casual as
sports. It's
empty death, non-heros
suddenly vanished from the script.
We don't live with histories,
only empty-eyed stories.
We say goodbye with
one-syllable whistles
and finger flicks. Blood
is a decoration
that entertains us with
seriousness. We know
how goodbye is a joke
we needn't really tell.
curious leaves
riding a summer breeze
dancing around
unveiled mysteries
uncover profound
hush hush histories
bust a squirt of lust
sex is best remedy
sexy short skirts
and
long leg works
the sight of a lonely woman
makes my heart hurt
I'm a nice guy
but they prefer the popular jerks
I guess that's the way love works
I guess being a jerk
has it's hidden perks