Short Leavings Poems
Short Leavings Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Leavings by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Leavings by length and keyword.
tracks and rain
the leaving
leaving and rain
the track that takes you
now in winter
a winter of leavings
a rain of tracks
now the rain
the rain
DON’T UNDERSTAND
SMILES FADE, LAUGHTER DIES!
SADNESS,SURROUNDS ME,
SURROUNDING YOU?
LOVES LEAVINGS OF NEED
DRIFT INTO THE VOID
WE CALL TOMORROW .
WHERE ARE THE DREAMS
THAT ONCE FILLED OUR DAYS?
DO THEY STILL HAUNT US?
OR DID THEY JUST GO AWAY
Form:
goofy squirrel twins with their hair askew and eyes so big
they tormented the acorns, and the tree, stepping on every twig
they scurried up the trunk, and scattered leavings all over the ground
we watch them daily; they are the best entertainment around
I’m dreaming of the demon;
desperate fare.
Believing in the leavings;
desperate dare.
Who are you to winnow me?
Righteous hare.
Can you spare the seedling?
No more cares.
Walk through
the case with you.
Figures are drawing.
Figures are dreaming.
Desperate hour,
walking nine.
Tell me more
about the line.
Stretching.
Along the alleys of my old village
a squalid dog followed me
flee-bitten, rabbit-faced
Give me some leavings, he whined
just a bit of left-over heart
I am starving to death.
I was coming from the poultry shop
so I gave him some chicken giblets.
He said, Now you are mine
since I ate your heart
and he always, always follows me
ill-fated me!
Inspired by the write of you
creamed through a paper sieve to cup
with both hands the leavings that you trail
the write of you
like the chewed edge of hand pressed paper
like the apostrophe of lash on the cheeky page
I ogle the syncopated semen-antic drop of
the write of you
how often does the wonder of you flash
across the film of my eyes unable reach
for I am so enchanted with the coffee-au-lait
write of you
The cake was sitting too close to the steak
The steak was done well, which was a mistake
The cake began melting, and the candles fell off
Worse yet, said grandma, your uncle gave it a cough
We had been digging around in the leavings by then
Scooping up frosting and pieces, my heart and my kin.
The prissy ones stopped, which left more for the rest of us.
We are Tennessee hillbillies who get around in a bus.
Before dawn, I press my palm
on the windowpane,
leaning gently into the night
feeling it slipping through
cold fingertips.
Later
when sipping coffee I glance out,
there are shedding's now,
fragments and scraps,
a littering of a flimsy
day breaking light.
I wonder how so great a thing
as the deeply fathomed dark
could be lost in its leavings?
My hand wants to say
something more of this
but its bones are sleeping
and cannot now be reused.
She lingers on the edge of warmth
savoring a cooling kiss
weakened as the distance grew
wondering – how’d it come to this.
Why does she long for distant shores
soft touch of newer, fresher winds
why must her shadows slowly fade
to dark beneath horizon’s bend.
As maples shed blood toned wardrobes
migrating lover’s dot the sky
she feels no pangs or leavings angst
for love’s not love when lovers cry.
©10/23/2019
OCTOBER SUN Poetry Contest
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