Short Low Key Poems
Short Low Key Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Low Key by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Low Key by length and keyword.
A singer whose name’s Carrie Oakey
Was hoarse, sounding terribly croaky
Carrie burst into tears
When folks covered their ears
She’s thankful her gig was just low key
10-08-17
Life's loud lessons Linger,
Locking losses low,
Lifting lone lion's
Living long dusks,
Learning leveled love
Like life-long laws.
Lanes lit lightly midnight
Laced with late- night looks,
Low-key legends
Leaning,
Lasting.
Sometime my heart cries
It's believes blood red
My tears flow through my beating heart
While also flowing down my eyelid to my cheeks
My soul cries as my heart beats with tears
12/1/19
Written word by James Edward Lee Sr 2019
Little Benny Ben told Roald Amundsen
Let's go to South Pole with my pretty hen
The hen was very stocky
Came to Ben with gait low-key
Asked for a diary and a gel pen
gentle one
so
friendly,too
what is it?:
is it
innocence
in embryo-
thoughts
transformed,
a subtext
echoed
from
the
past:
so remarkable
so unusual
yet
low key,
instincts
articulated
candid
pertinent
succinct
and to
the point
Sound now
play loud
play soft
low key
high key
please me
shock me
eyes cry
laugh loud
sing out
tune mad
tone deaf
don't care
scream shout
sharp soft
sound off
sound on
run round
up down
dance round
great time
crowd cheer
shout more
thank you
Nick Cave
contest entry image one piano keys
I am so sad
It’s a cold and clear day
No clouds in the sky
I am so sad
The breeze softly blows
Stirring my sorrows
I am so sad
You mechanically smile
Walking on the trail
I am so sad
You cannot speak in a low key
Having a cup of tea
I am so sad
At the same time, happy enough
Hearing your funny cough
little
footle
maybe
baby
très small
not tall
eensy
weensy
itty
bitty
minute
too cute
skinny
mini
tiny
viny
‘tis slight
just right
low-key
it’s wee
twinky
dinky
bit long
too strong
8/19/2022
Sponsor: Brian Strand
One can say my skies aren’t lofty
And my style does not appeal
To their taste I’m too low key
They don’t care if I’m real
Or a shadow of bygone
If I’m living or deceased
If I’m right or if I’m wrong
They can’t bother less – I’m pleased
With attention I provide
I respect the time they waste
Reading words I couldn’t hide
Just to fit some little taste.
What broke me wasn't my mother's lack of words but was the untold story she told me.
The strength she carried that I misused all because I thought she never wanted to use me.
The hands she used to wipe my tears when I found out she'd cry herself to sleep every night.
That alone made my mother the hero I knew I would always count on
~Low-Key Poet??
-Sihle Simelane
The pregnant dream vs the naked existence.
The healthy belligerent vs sanguine invalid.
The buoyant child vs the cavillous pensioner.
The all-giving African vs the all-recieving European.
The befriended neighbour vs the ostracized man.
The kaleidoscopic optimist vs bleak pessimist.
The raw truth vs the falsified lie.
The low-key good Samaritan vs the ostentatious donator.
The good vs the bad.
Form:
Tightly wound
Agitated
Low key sound
Exaggerated
Dim the lights
Don’t touch my skin
Adorn my sights
Delight with sin
Quick to startle
Sure to bruise
My plate is full
I couldn’t choose
Agreed to all
It sounded fun
Slowed to crawl
When time to run
I feel ashamed
Yet again
It’s me, to blame
I couldn’t bend
I froze in place
My limbs went numb
With little grace
I bit my tongue
Hope I'm the only one you call beb
Every time you go to bed
Keep it low-key with them blues
Or listen to my lyrical bars
You Promised to be my only
I go keep it a hundred with you bae
You pretty thick with some big booty
I love everything 'bout your body
Go put on your bikini
Lemme take you out to the beach
Bang you hard from the bay
With no sweeting in its coastal breeze
surviving_pawn
Aye, here 'n too! now it nears
Ah, 'tis by means golden years
Us imagined, it would seem to be guaranteeing
'Tis no way to have our mortal being
Aged 'n low-key in twilight glowing
Forever younger, older growing
Boohoo 'n take to heart
The glut of days gone by depart
But what else are thee
Other than old, as years pass by free
Daydreaming that are no more
Tis is humanity decline at it's front door
A gentle sway
Amidst two pines
Mid summer day
One may find
A Georgia peach
About “yay” tall
Low key screech
Preventing fall
Canopied shade
From layered leaves
Pigtail braids
Adorning trees
Whistling winds
Promote the sway
That soothe her limbs
Wide awake
A humming sound
Could be heard
Before she’s found
Preceding words
Once disturbed
The magic fades
There are no words
To recreate
We heard the voice
Of the talking anus
Beat like a light drum
Where saints were gathered.
But suddenly the stench hovered
And all hands drove close
To prevent the odour through the nose
Because the beats became filthy
All tones pitched a low key.
Everywhere boomed with bad odour
That shut every mouth like a door
At the noise of the anus that talked.
Even – the smell gave my pen
Inspiration to write this poem.
Not quite the version of real time,
caught calm in a candid capture;
At once the art fades away,
burned from memory into a filter;
Caught calm in a candid capture;
A moment ago you were boiling,
finale fireworks on the Fourth of July;
At once the art fades away,
left in awe of your explosion;
Fanned fire cooled to low key;
Burned from memory into a filter,
changed your speed way too fast;
Emotional hand read 'Move On.'
Open the door and rest for a while,
around here we stay in flip flops;
A beach house never goes out of style;
Our broken clock stays on island time,
you’ll smell coconut in the off season;
Salt is meant for drinks with a lime;
May hear the ocean in every corner
or instantly fall asleep on the sofa;
Did you just get closer to the equator?
Blue enigma, low key lies within;
Slice of heaven on a quiet street,
welcome mat reads ‘Come on in.’
Will you be my diary?
Can I pour out my secrets
Without you judging me?
Can I talk to you night and day?
Whenever my pen wants to stroke your page
And when I lock you
Do you promise not to let anyone else in?
Will you be my low key best friend?
Can I dance across your lines
With the story of my days
Can I be so transparent
Without strife or pain
Can I trust you to walk with me
For the rest of my life
Dear Diary can I fill your pages starting tonight
Form:
There are those who say chivalry is dead,
Chivalry is alive and well, ikt is said;
Just, needs to be looked for, it's difficult to find,
Searcing for it, in front and behind;
To recognize it, it's hard to see,
It doesn't happen often, chivalry remains low key;
Needs to occur more, the right ideal to deem,
It should be at the core of every man, a central theme;
Being chivalrous doesn't need to be among the written laws,
It should always be a given, without any cause.
7-7-13
Feeling like I’m floating
Whole world soft and distant
Sinking into my blankets
While the morning stays persistent
Monday hits the door
My eyes aren’t open
Mind drifts off again
I keep hoping
Grey clouds spreading out
The sky won’t stop pouring
Streets talking loud
My mind keeps ignoring
The day says move
My soul says not yet
I’d rather stay in bed
Light up calm and reset
Cause the more you push
The less life agrees
Loosen your grip
You’ll get what you need