Short Massed Poems
Short Massed Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Massed by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Massed by length and keyword.
~*~
~~**~~
rain has passed
the rainbow shows
as a promise of the past
the sun rises above invisible clouds
not a single shadow cast
and nature glows
colors brightly massed
~~**~~
~*~
UTTERANCES OF PASSION -:-
surrounded
mobilized
reality
invoking
silence
IN DRAMATIC SCENERY
containing
abstract
dynamic
figured
technique
of ARTICULATED IMAGINGS
familiarly
arranged
experiences
massed
irrevalences
t.v.'s mind mirror reflects upside down side-ways and backwards
---in past
missed ages
masked sages
massed stages'as
mixed ages
watched
---now t.v. consumes
massed stages
mask age'as
missed sages
messed ages as
ads
stans sand
Opens as an invite
And multihued
Soft, for whom heard, speak low
Spring had accrued.
The single-minded bee.
That seriously!
Now wider, with a more
Impassioned fuss
For whom heard not, Spring too
Has massed. O'erplus!
One-hearted butterfly.
That smoothly sly!
They kill for their namesake
Blinded with visions of righteousness
Mirrored with images of self
Sanctifying, with daggers plunging deep
Crowds gather in loyalty
Massed in fear, assembled in hatred
Adherence to dogmas of a farsighted kind
While master deceivers bloom like orchids
It seemed like yesterday
We deemed new hope in play.
Rare New Year did appear-
Its Two-Thousand premier!
Decade, times two, flew by-
We prayed peace would comply.
Aplenty letdowns massed-
by Twenty-Twenty's blast!
July 2, 2020
Contest: Verses in Essence - 8 Lines
Sponsor: Joseph May
Nostalgic
Enthralled
Voyage
Ever
Rapturous
Beguiling
Reverie
Exhibits
Alluring
Kaleidoscope
Don’t
Rupture
Ecstasy
Amassed
Mind
September 30, 2019
Contest :Three Word Acrostic
Sponsor : Bobby May
Had so much potential
Feel I have squandered
It all away
Not at all how I had
Thought my life would
Turn out
Never could my younger
Self have ever had ever imagined
How massed up I would cause my
Life to become
Wish I had a time machine
To go back in time and tell
My younger self never to
Let things get this far gone
On drowsy hamlets mobile hordes descend,
From tight-lipped forests rises a babel.
Wanderlust is to distant wonders sent,
As fleets of long-haul birds skyward rumble.
Where massed footprints to virgin lands extend,
And sights are packaged for all to sample,
Coy beauties in nature’s bosom held dear
From between heaven and earth disappear.
I count you, that the day were first, thee last,
as in repaired diplomacy's repast.
A building up of time - restoring, chaste
or in contempt of cruelty, take fast.
I count thee - as tomorrow's faith outclassed
does blindly look for reason now surpassed.
I count thee, for that love not change its bast,
but counts - the sun, the moon, the ever last.
And counting ...feels as one in spacious massed!
A morning sky blares a raucous anthem.
Bluejays, Magpies and crows
have gathered to defeat the songbirds.
I look East for any signs of massed auks.
The air is dancing, but it's a crazy dance,
a stamping clamor akin to frontline fever.
A battle is coming, the shock troops
are rattling spears in the hedgerows,
fieldmice are digging new trenches
under old roots.
Look! The storm gulls are here,
and they are bringing the ocean with them.
When she crossed her legs,
electric silk
slipped over thigh orientated beguilements.
Her shoulders were disrespectful.
The massed pipes and drums
of her braided hair played upon my mind.
I was alone for a thousand years
drinking her in.
I wanted to ask her
but what?
Besides it was then she looked my way
with a cool ‘muck-you’ stare.
Back at the hotel,
my reflected sun-slapped face,
seemed as unstable as sand,
yet the syllabary of her thighs
had so much more to say to me.