Short Make Out Poems
Short Make Out Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Make Out by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Make Out by length and keyword.
There was a young fellow named Mark
Who liked to make out in the park.
It was late afternoon
When he wanted to spoon.
His girl make him wait until dark.
Look you, to the path
Through the copse
A soft floor of mulch
Bushes tucked in clumps
And across the vale
And on out beyond
You can just make out Park
And the 7-Eleven
What you do with your time, people don't care
how to make it better is what you should dare
people will either come closer
or get farther
what you make out of yourself determines it...
Laid up in bed but we really don’t mind,
it’s raining and a football game’s on;
Let’s make out slow in-between plays;
With a dollop of ice cream,
dip into my rhythm;
A moan not a howl;
Until the clock
hits zero,
release
waits……
A muffled sound
that I knew not
as it echoed
across my lot
It spoke in code
to primal fear
seemed to cry
Get out of here
O, how I wish I could
make out the words
Tho' that success
would rob my guess
Never alone in a make out world
with her face pressed upon a window pane
her breath exhaling a misty dew
with a finger letters she writes
drying up once a shine glass
inhaling the air
deep into her soul
breathing the letters of your name
on her heart.
Form:
pain
doubles her over
sweating
on the ER stretcher
bright lights and too much
noise
intensifies
misery
weeks of pain
like toothpicks
lost inside
patiently
the nurse pushes pain medication
into the IV
she cannot make out the words
for all the flurry
Form:
Do you break a heart every day
When you think of her that right away
Does your pain
Suit the refrain
And it’s so hard to do
Make out that your heart is not through
But break it will every time
When I make a wish that you are still mine.
© Paul Warren Poetry
The air waltzes with your echo,
it’s a rhythm play, pause, repeat;
I can’t make out the libretto,
the air waltzes with your echo;
A beat that pure instinct will know,
leaving you in the driver’s seat;
The air waltzes with your echo,
it’s a rhythm play, pause, repeat.
Today I’m thankful for having eyes
that left unaided cause my vision to be blurred…
No, this statement is not ridiculous, senseless or absurd
Because when things all blur together…
And I can’t always make out what’s there….
It’s easier within the blur
to see beauty everywhere.
a distant dream,
a far-off hope,
a wish I can't touch
But I cope.
a hope that is unattainable,
a persistent yearning,
A vision I don't completely understand,
But I still believe
an unattainable dream,
A yearning that won't go away,
an image I can't quite make out,
But I still try
which insect has a large eye you see when she flies…
this eye is actually made up of several small eyes…
her compound eyes detect movement much better
than they make out shapes or inclement weather
If you guessed firefly then you have our admiration.
Damselfly is a majestic member of the faerie federation.
A baby girl cant seem to make out the strand she picked off her chin is an eyelash or a
nostril hair? To wish or not to wish?
...Optimists will say 'wish'. Pessimists will say 'whatever the hell!' ...
I will say:
Tear a nostril hair and an eyelash, compare, the one with least error in
magnitude...consider that one!
My mothers words to me she taught
What you make out of love is what you've got
Take it for granted you should not
What you give in love is what you've got
Its not giving riches or a yaught
If you expect this love its not
For true love cannot be bought
Spark the flame and keep it hot
And you will see true love is what you've got
It isn't about the result
Or be it the outcome
But what you make out
If nothing goes wrong
But you have the poor glee
Saying sorts craze; your tongue
While you don't cherish yourself
Others are out in jealous
But choose to mock and laugh
You let them paint you scum
By giving up to agree
To such mixtures you surpass
He is waiting for someone else
to put the words into his mouth
instead, he would say out loud his own.
And as pretending the singing,
he merges into unpossessed voices
hiding his song in the noise.
I cannot make out his words, though:
I misread his lips - mistaking a pop song for a pray;
a lip-synced psalm,
and believe every word he shares.
life is a riddle,
that I can't make out.
life is a puzzle,
that I can't figure out.
don't know,
what's happening.
never known,
before...
the rules,
of this game,
are just,
so lame.
sometimes,
there's no light.
sometimes,
it's too bright.
but now I know,
this mess, that life is,
it's what makes it 'life'
that's the beauty of it...
You got me feeling
Tongue tied up
Up and otta sight
But your love keeps me alright
Blindfolded by your touch
I cannot hear much
But what I make out
I find that maybe
In time you will let me
Be free,
There's nowhere I'd rather be
Than right here,
You and me
You abducted me
Only so I could see
A love with you
Is the only truth I need
Tired of peoples hatred towards me
What is it I'm doing?
Don't understand your words
Can't make out your screaming
Numb from peoples hitting
Don't know what I've done wrong
Don't want to hear your lectures
I've been here too long
Thoughtless from peoples words
What is it I'm not doing?
Don't enjoy this pain
Don't enjoy this suffering
Written October 27, 2002
Form:
it's not fair to blame you
to use you against
yourself- it's not fair to
raise the curtain let the show
commence, without telling
you: you are the villain. i
expect a mess but you grow
ill & rise up, detest the
story which has been repeated
since it began. you're hard to
believe, painted horrorshow
baring teeth & flashing eyes,
i can't make out who you
are.
‘I’m dizzy being busy’, she continued
To the friend who went, ‘Yea, really’.
Twenty minutes later, Dizzy-busy was still talking,
And the other one was still nodding feebly.
I wanted to hear what the other one had to say,
But all I could make out was Busy-dizzy.
The other one, she was far more interesting.
When I finally left, Dizzy-busy was still talking!
©dbyrne feb 2013
Alone in the dark
the light burns my eyes
alone in the shadows
swallowing my cries
I don't know who I am
and others know me less
I don't know where I'm going
life feels such a mess
such a fool, such a fool
to not know my own mind
such a fool to have had faith
I'd meet another of my kind
alone in the dark
can no longer make out light
alone in this cruel world
losing the urge to fight
Form:
Our unsung slurs fill the night air,
blurred words become a make out song;
All the careless talk was too strong;
Your hands like flowers in my hair
I feel just like a millionaire;
Here and now is where I belong,
our unsung slurs;
Reckless conversations declare
what we have denied all along;
Star crossed and so very headstrong;
It’s like cuss words mixed with fanfare,
our unsung slurs.
I love to high
When flying in the sky
I look down
And see you little people
Just milling around
You look like tiny ants
Looking from my height
I can just make out your hands
But they're blurring in my sight
I'm just inches away
But you seem much further away
I see you every day
But you're blurring in my way
When I am low
My vision will slow
I'll be able to see you
Clearly in my view
I ask for refuge to Allah from Satan the exiled evildoer.
In the name of Allah the Kind and the Giver.
Surely we revealed this book on the prestigious night.
How can you make out what is the prestigious night.
It is better than a thousand months of life.
On this night
With Lord’s permission angel Ruh with all his might
Descends on earth for every affair.
Peace till the dawn of this night.