Short Lament Poems
Short Lament Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Lament by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Lament by length and keyword.
My tear is an expression
A deluge of emotion
Flooding out of one’s torment
A need to lament.
© Harry J Horsman 2011
JULY'S LAMENT
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
heatwave
leaves sighing for a cool embrace
July’s lament
Fallen leaves are
Battered but not bowed after
The siege of the frost
I blame my long lament
You really wanted to stay
eyes of deepest blue
lips sweet as maple syrup...
his dog loves him too
He left
and stole moon’s glow
from the skies of July.
Warm nights – I miss them so.
Bereft am I.
Each gesture lent
to conceal consent
if reveal intent
Look-back's lament
undetected signs went
swift fireflies senescent
Money and time well spent,
Yet you secretly lament.
Seems now even generosity feels resentful,
As we continue to be so wasteful.
Lucas Moser famed for his art quotes
when this adage he once wrote
'Cry ar &lament' nobody wants you!
Oh oh sadly still so very true
Hold my thoughts, keep them from me
Help me release them,and so I can be free
As I tremble and lament
I can’t handle the sad torment
How can I go on?
I reach out for you
To be in your arms
But then I awake
My tears start to flow
I'm trapped here in life.
not sure where they go
hell or heaven I don’t know
all traveled by air
but plunged into sea, buried!
oh,death! ,oh,fate! Thou are mean.
Stewed regret begets
laments like mythical ents
puts legs on old scars
that haunt and herd the present
tense with stench of past reborn
Fingers filled with ocre paint
the skin worn deep and brilliant
I'm not the same girl you met yesterday
I no longer shine when you push me.
Form:
The British love a special dish
Which satisfies their hunger wish
The Times reports
Government sports
Bojo's chips went down with the fish
His soul lament
He’s not here yet
His retirement
Still life with breath
4/13/2019
An Epitaph to Make Us Laugh 2
Jesse Rowe - sponsor
Here I sit, thinking away
On the toilet seat half the day
It takes me so long to finish my needs
~ All my thoughts down the hole I pee
A
crackle
of dead wood-
an unfinished
book,
as
driftwood
on the strand,
beginnings no
end-
in
timeless
tedium
of paralysed
thought
What should I say
When she called
Me over today
Said it was urgent
To my lament
I ached for her touch
But then she said
That I’m too much
The summer solstice
in years past so much welcomed...
now there's foreboding:
soaring temps, wildfires, drought...
idyllic days are numbered.
Kentucky never did pull me
Neither did Tennessee
Kansas, best left to Dorothy
~ O, for the beaches of Waikiki
quiet pillows
ebon noisemakers
brass-blows, red-green drums
tympanic lament of grief
solace throws on brown sofa
Winter's last hoorah
Silent snowfall covers the blooms and newly budding green
Hear the mourning doves sorrowful cries
It's supposed to be spring
Hanging upon that cross one last time
A lament to thine sweet Divine.
Who conquered death but thyself did die-
Well, I now know He’s here with I.
There once was a man made of tin,
Whose joints made a horrible din.
“I need oil,” he’d plea,
“Or a heart, possibly,
But rust ruins romance again!”
Hate bedewed with youth
power to impair one’s kin,
grace in growing old
a time to regret, lament...
grandson, reflection of time.
© Harry J Horsman 2012