Short Jotting Poems
Short Jotting Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Jotting by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Jotting by length and keyword.
A dog on an exercise program,
Only ate the leanest ham,
Jotting his routine in a dogalog,
Staying off his daily grog,
Now has a job with Uncle Sam.
Jibber jabber rambling and gambling of words,
thoughtful sounds of meaningless intent,
unanswered calls for the insightful motive,
simple as such, silly as much,
jotting the illogical flow of blurbs.
Justly, the old year ends;
Jabbed by New Year's Ball to
Journey down fresh, rich starts.
Junk lame ways, create change-
Joy to have first month's slate;
Jotting down thoughts anew-
Juiced January reigns!
The poet is in the coffee shop,
jotting down words,
The words of the poet,
so surreal, so honest,
Words of the poet,
are read by many,
standing up on a stage,
speaking words into the microphone,
drawing the audience in,
the words of the poet...
Those slow trains in my downed days
were so adventurous and relaxing,
I wasn't traveling into a dark tunnel
and focus on a novel: my view was bright;
I was getting somewhere: jotting down
words from thoughts that were so lively!
" Bite Size Poem no 25 "
As the soapsuds disappear from the water
My short life will end like a jotter
He'll call me home
Because I am surely His daughter
Inspired after reading a Rubai written by Gershon Wolf
jotter-n-a small notebook for jotting things down
Jotting down juicy journalism
Opening oodles of oppressed optimism
Understanding unity usually unites universally
Relinquishing random rants
Naturing neat notions never noticed
All adventures allow an ample accumlation of antadotes
Love literature like a libidinous librarians long lost lover
I have a hunger to write
all that comes to mind
at times, words come so fast
some get lost in time
some beautiful, some not
images fluttering through
grasping at the details
picturous verse for you
jotting them down so quickly
the words begin to fly
the ink's upon the page now
my pen now lies nearby
Sleeping through the stress
Soiled in mixed silence
Jotting every joke in justice
Like the lies of lilac
Calling itself clear
But feels like a beauty
Arranged clothes for the weeks job
Just to see souls happy at dusk
Laughing out loud
While remembering their loss as mere thinking
Oh the joys of feeding
I am Bloated
Things I refuse to do today:
Paint
Oops! I already did that.
Write.
Um….well, I am just jotting stuff down, not real writing.
Right?
Laundry.
Check.
Sweep the kitchen.
Check.
Run the vacuum cleaner. Check.
Hey! I have stuck to my guns
and not done a lot of things!
Get on a plane.
Check.
Tame a dragon.
Oops!
Scribble. Scribble.
Across the street, on scaffold rigs,
Construction workers hover
And if they’d glance my way, this is
What they just might discover:
A bedroom filled with books and pictures
All in frames of black,
A quilted bed and clutter
I’ve been meaning to attack.
And then, of course, upon a chair,
The other sight they’d see,
With pad and pencil, jotting words,
A rhyming poet – me!
sometimes it turns around
wanna take a second look
slowing down this time
jotting thoughts in a notebook
studying the angles
trying to make a plan
doing the equation
start back where you began
erasing the mistakes
using all you learned
knowledge gives you power
to once again return
sometimes it turns around
and you take a second look
mysteries uncovered
when you reread the book
When everything seems Dark around Me,
I vent on a Paper in order to be Free.
When the Hurricane of My Thoughts is at its Peak,
I let it glide gently so it doesn't make me Weak.
Thoughts make a distinction between a Wise and a Fool,
So I tune in to My thoughts but not let them Rule.
I dive into my Conscience as it swiftly drifts away,
Sometimes holding on to a thought turns everything Grey.
The empty pages
Are ready to be filled
Cover to cover
With the poetry
So the reader can
enjoy
Through out the book
There are many ways
To use a blank book
Writing recipes
Or jotting down the-
thoughts
You had tthe manyhrough the
day
Writing down the stories
to keep
These are the many-
Ways to make usesage
Of the blank book
Everyone enjoys it
To use it anyway
They choose
A day you hadn’t planned on
When you get to stay at home
Is the perfect time for TCB
(Or jotting down a poem).
Go through closets, pay some bills,
Read a magazine;
Cook or bake or take the time
To actually clean.
Write an email, make a call,
Catch up on some shows;
Dive into the novel that
Your book club did propose.
Having time for TCB’s
A rare and special treat.
Take advantage but beware –
Between the chores, you eat!
mellow just chilling
sitting back
listening to
coffeehouse tunes
sipping a tall americano
at a table for one
set by the window
in the far corner
winding down
doodling pen in hand
jotting rough lines
of a poem on a napkin
pulling it together
precious me time
hiding out where
i can lose myself
and not be found
Published in my photo/poetry book ~TABLE FOR ONE~ 2019
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Posted on September 18, 2019
When people’s lives are out of sync
They may resort to drugs or drink
But there’s a better choice, I think,
Which just requires lead or ink.
Not all may have the appetite
For jotting thoughts in black and white
But once you try it, you just might
Find out it brings good vibes to light.
You do not need to see a shrink
To learn that life lasts just a blink;
Yet there’s a chance, though it be slight,
That things will brighten when you write.
Attending flower show with wife, Mr. Mouse feels dread.
She ignores him completely, and runs way up ahead.
Jotting down notes, and shushing him every single time.
He wants to stay home, but she feels this is not sublime
She wants him to come, so she can show she has a man.
But she ignores him completely as only a real wife can.
Then when she sees his old girlfriend, she pulls him in quick.
Pretending they are still in love, her usual slick trick.
No rhyme or reason just jotting words down
could I put them together for a thought profound
Sometimes it all comes together
sometimes not
Read and read them over
nothing close to plot
Crumple the paper toss in the trash
think it over possible to rehash
Out of the trash smooth to read
wrinkled words mocking me
Then eureka how could I not see
just let them flow and speak to me
No rhyme or reason does it need to be
just random thoughts flow into poetry.
dark room
lightens
sunshine
brightens
outside
prime time
strong brew
sublime
red birds
singing
wind chimes
ringing
gold leaves
clinging
now brain-
storming
rhymes are
forming
jotting
phrases
nature’s
praises
daylight’s
waning
eyes are
straining
no more
stalling
night is
falling
indoors
I go
poems
in tow
November 9, 2022
entered in Brian Strand's Premiere Choice Contest Placed 6th
I watch the curling smoke
rising from my cigarette
my mind’s flat broke
my creative spirit begins to fret
sipping my hot coffee
listening to the cold rain
wishing something would inspire me
and end this poet’s strain
I start jotting down words
and random gibberish phrases
most no one’s ever heard
extracted from my mind’s hazes
but I really need to write
something that’s worth reading
locked in a brutal fight
come on, pen start bleeding!