Short Manipulations Poems
Short Manipulations Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Manipulations by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Manipulations by length and keyword.
strung
along by
his delicious
silken kisses
seduced by
his manipulations
I’m his marionette
*In French. marionette = "little Mary"
Written 9/14/12 by Andrea Dietrich
For nette onclaud's SEPTOLET THE PUPPET Poetry Contest
We should have seen it coming
with the advent of unisex
and exploitation movies with
females as sex objects
But we were blind as bats to
the elites' manipulations
So, now we pay the price
~ freedom's cancellation
Oh, to mourn the death of a season
Causing dread for the prediction of nature
Trampling through leaves plummeted from glory
Overt manipulations of human emotions
Barters the time of years gone by
Everlasting cycles of gain and loss
Remembrance eases the transition
Love not hate
and hate not love.
For they are
and it is people that manifest.
It is the warped personalities that seek
the destruction of themselves that,
murder the collective spirits of us.
It is 4- 12- 2 that embodies the very evil manipulations
of hate.
It is SHE that has made me ):
Form:
Amdist the chaos of our lives,
My confusion becomes your affliction.
Despite your manipulations,
Waiting is now your malediction.
So the truth hits close to home,
And my realizations become deeper.
You want me to believe my ideals are naive:
Don't bother.
If loose lips sink ships,
Then your quick wit is nuclear.
I will never give in,
To you,
I eat words of truth,
I have my teeth in it,
Never will I quit,
Justice,
Is what comes due,
You can't hide,
Behind your lying lips,
Not everyone,
Is willing,
To be taken,
It's true,
I have my teeth in it,
They've been sharpened,
By,
My words of truth.
Daylight Saving Time
They had their reasons
an energy savings perhaps
or daylight appearance shift
an improvement of time..
But alas a darker view
has veiled the daylight..
Strokes and depression
shade our manipulations..
And perhaps more:
time stands revealed
as a thought impermanent
arriving and departing
veiling our lives
with its seeming
independence...
Constantly fearful
Numbing and dreadful
Sleeping amid deep seated angst
Nerve endings are shaking
This nightmare in dreaming
Of never awakening
Slipping away from brighter days
Freezing inside iced forming crystals
Scary emotions tightly wrapping
Entwining the darkness of suffocating
An emotional downward slipping
An enclosed coffin of deadening
Amidst a highly gifted
creatively depressed soul
Standing ovation
Tired situation
Overbearing aggravation
Complications of
Tired conversations
Multifaceted contemplations
Of overdramatic
Accusations poured
Constantly into dire
Straits of manipulations
Churning round in
My mind, never going
To be defined only
Rhymed over time
Line after line constantly
Being refined only to
Find that back again
They come words always
Being undone over
Again in my head.
Form:
The hawk was always hatching
a pacer,
to spin the surveillance,
tampering the tracks of violence.
The haul was heavy. Moon and fishes
went on to spread the dragnet
striking gold from the liquid
denials. The sovereignity was
violated of a virgin god.
The rule of drinking was sidelined.
Kiss will survive after the death opens
the back door of a globe.
Dreams are exhausted. There will
be no comeback of a star player
in the game of bloody manipulations.
Satish Verma
Thoughts rush in; words rush out
Really know what it's all about
Stop that rushing; just stop it.
Don't throw that fit!
Take all the time you need to pray
The the Peace will reflect in what you say.
Manipulations and temptations flee
Don't be as busy as a bee
But breathe deeply, think creatively,
See the beauty somewhere intuitively,
Wait and then act purposefully.
Don't let the "negatives" bully.
Be sweet and never stop smiling
Blessings will start piling.
Love is a bit of comedy, so be rough with love.
He arranges her one way and then another,
in itchy dissatisfaction. She surrenders to the role
like a silent bystander, a plaything in the hands
of impatience - what does he want?
“Like this,” he says in a schoolteacher’s voice.
The imbalance of power, the almost impersonal
manipulations, the momentum toward surrender,
and then the shocking, primal desire - to meld -
like a gunshot in a canyon long thought empty.