Short Loath Poems
Short Loath Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Loath by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Loath by length and keyword.
Evil Fear Me
Evil, fear me; don't mold me.
For your mischief I see lurks.
Of ill wrought ways I live leery.
For I loath all wicked works.
Poetic form: Chastushka
© Dane Smith-Johnsen 11-12-09
Elusive truth, but still searching for it
Loner at heart, but loath to admit
Life is a game, but she does not commit
Entering a phase, where her path is split
Not trying too hard, but I'm sure she will fit.
loath
falsehood
to be able
truthfulness to
love!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
12 January 2018
If a loath of bread is all In a day
What lies of the village the nun
Among the keeper words well
While intense of the spirit
Enhance of the vision to
Know less but to know more just
Just of the thought of day.
I'd hope you'd
Unglue me,
but some things are
Impossible.
Now, with repeat
heartbeats skipped
Over and over again,
Your kitchen is indeed
Empty.
I loath sadness
so I become like a
concrete statue
Without any flavors
to keep me afloat.
If all that we hoped to find is nowhere to be found
Do we turn away?
Run back out to misery?
Be who we used to be?
Loath how we live
And how we are?
Or do we keep searching
And never stop until we find it
Let's just keep hoping
And see what happens
I had a dream she gave a kiss
I rode a rocket ship to bliss
The softest lips that ever were
Locked onto mine, I felt her purr
And loath to break the steamy seal
I kept on kissing her with zeal
With scent of lilac in the air
The world went on, I didn't care
Doctors take the Hippocratic Oath
though many are quite loath
to try to save older folk --
They view the oath as a joke
Politicians also take an oath
A 'Hypercritical Hypocritical' Vow
To blast anyone who dares ask why
He should believe their outright lies
Pain rearranged to turn deranged
pulling lumps of slithering loath
splatter at my feet
no head way
pulling more ever day
this numb is dumb
couldn't feel if i stepped into the sun
so unspecial
little was my most
think i am the ghost
raise your glass
make a toast
to all pains host
Pain rearranged to turn deranged
pulling lumps of slithering loath
splatter at my feet
no head way
pulling more ever day
this numb is dumb
couldn't feel if i stepped into the sun
so unspecial
little was my most
think i am the ghost
raise your glass
make a toast
to all pains host
I know it hurts,
but you're too proud
Though you suffer,
accept it never
Loath to be weak,
pleasure you seek
Pull yourself together,
You will feel better
Surrounded by people,
but no friend in real
I know how you feel,
Let me come and kneel
I promise I will,
offer you a better deal
This coldness still, untrue; unreal
Consumed by doubt, more cracks in the wall -
For certain I loath all that I feel
(Lost in the Beauty of my fateful fall)
Dry of words, and void of strength,
I try and save my dying chance
(I never thought I'd trek this length)
But, Lo! I dance a dead Romance...
Just watching the clock tick
As the seconds pass with each click
And time is the enemy I loath it to be
Waiting the time to pass is not easily
So I try to keep myself very busy
At a pace that would usually by dizzy
But I know that it will be so slow
Especially when waiting time to go.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Atmospheric grayscale mirrors my mood
where rainbow pastels are loath to intrude,
monochrome perverse looms ‘cross universe -
black powder train, mind is gun barrel gray
cold dispassionate muzzle of dismay.
My happiness; my death will reimburse -
lifeblood bleeds an anemic attitude.
Susan Ashley
November 17, 2018
Spiralling into the depths of a rose.
Scent of petals caresses my nose.
Plummeting through a soft green bed.
Passing through the stem with dread.
Within, I witness its patterns from growth.
Wonderously I see beyond the darkness I loath.
Suddenly fertile soil surrounds me.
Somehow a gentler fall than I thought it would be.
It's quite complicated, hatred.
It can be many things.
It's so common,
or so you think.
You don't know where it comes from.
It's something I can't define.
Between loath and hate,
there's quite a fine line.
I'm a pro at this act..
The skills - don't they shine?
But the talent doesn't come easily,
believe me, it took time.
~Written in 2001, when I was twelve~
Form:
It visited me at last,
The one which I loath to call on,
Even for my worst enemy,
Like a plantain stem fallen on its sword on bed.
Trembling,shivering,
Unable to walk,
unable to sit,
unable to think,
Unable to breath,
Oh! the tip of my tiny hair follicles,
crying song of pain,
sure, I will come back strong,
But can't vanish without a note,
Goodnight PS,
At least for a fortnight.
Unchanged and unchangeable;
Install bridel feelings;
Inner meanings;
Emotional attachments in bracing mind spirit and soul ;
Bold and vain attractions attachments loath;
Captivated sources applications void;
I can love;
I can love;
I believe you love me;
What's up, honey-darling;
Will you, will you, just love me;
5/21/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2021
tribal lights reflect the moon,blades of grass long in june
day's of hope and nights of wonder
i loath the rain in all it's plunder
eagles soar at mountians side
fear and hope, love and pride
treasured dreams in hearts are filled
false words in time are killed
still motion of light dances above, a fathers praise , a mothers love
i close my eyes and see your face,a treasured dream i can't replace
If an apple a day
keeps the doctor away
to such proverb
he'd not subscribe
as the income lost
to defray his cost
foolish he would ascribe
and instead
if looking sickly feeling ill
on my deathbed
a home visit plus pill
he'd quickly prescribe
as a patient I used to be
but now a customer that is me
and the Hippocratic Oath
he ducks like a quack
as to quote it he is quite loath
My anger punds with every heartbeat.
The person I see staring back through the mirror is not who I like
I want to hurt her.
Hurt me.
Her eyes filled with a darkness...
As I stare, the eyes blaze with self-loath.
The lips part with a silent scream.
Her fist races towards me.
Glass sprinkles around like glittering snowflakes mixed with ruby raindrops.
I stare at the shards of glass at my feet.
I feel I'm looking at my heart.
Form:
Working in jobs we loath,
buying valuables we do not need.
We have no substance to survive on this,
our souls we can not feed.
A million miles away,
across oceans and cracks.
Exist people that own everything,
everything we lack.
The Mark of Cain,
we have burnt upon ourselves.
Ever plummeting southwards,
our conscious delves.
He collects them in bottles,
our evil ways.
Waiting to release them,
at the end of days.
Form:
I take for granted I’ll enjoy sun’s rays
for days on end three seasons of the year;
but Winter, though she has some winning ways,
is loath to treat us to sun-fueled cheer.
When gold some January afternoon
bursts free to warm my winter-tethered heart,
I love the warmth much more than in late June
when summer comes to bid fair Spring depart.
July 28, 2020
entered in the Strand Completely New (14) Poetry Contest 1st place
As i dreamt of days passed by,
(Darn it!) Takes a sprout.
I looked to my right,
And i looked to my left,
For how i saw no passers-by,
"Darn it!" Gets the mouth.
Regrets flood in of "Why? Just why?", the floods make up a sea,
There is now a vicinity to self in which am loath,
And cry to the self for leave,
Its only when the eyes dry up,
And the fog has its retreat,
How infinite the self is in the void.....
"I see! I see! I see!"
Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck
For if the struggle
Needs weapons
Give it words
Repudiation
Enthralled me but
Never shall be free
With only a host
Of phantom listeners
Concealing its fury
With just a gentle hiss
Never venting its loath
Never turning to its maker
With condemned hate
When hail and fire converge
In just a fissure
Bearing only just a deeper malice
Inviting only an occult mind
And spatters only wicked stones.