Short Metric Poems
Short Metric Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Metric by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Metric by length and keyword.
Fifth of November
One quarter from age eighty
Memories intact…
Sorry to those in metric
Twenty five percent to go
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Anacreon the greek born circa 580 BC
loved to pen erotic poetry
alternating long&short in syllabic metric
lyrically untranslatable from the ionic
Pilfered a verse from a tricky muse
Each stanza with riddles he did infuse
Perplexed, I shuffled each line
Fusing the metric spine
Confused, my remaining wits did loose
Don’t ever bare your soul,
Conceal your psyche’s role
Behind your metaphors and metric lines.
And don’t undress your heart,
Disguise the tragic part
It plays inside your poetry’s designs.
It is the same as 2.54 inches.
It is part of the metric system,
Which is also called a SI unit.
This type of measure is more accurate,
Than the English or U.S. customary.
Scientists use SI units or metrics system,
Unvoluntary.
she said
country
i said
say it again
she said
come to me
i realized i
was in a different
country so
this place used
metric and i
only had inches
so it seemed
that 2.54 looked
better then the
1 i had before
Form:
Ass-y-metric.! Or so i'm told.? Whether its war or
The economy? or congress (on hold)
Down is the latest up.' And soon up well
it won't
Be found..There just are too many
Donkeys leading, i much preffer the former
One horse towns.)
duped to go
metric excepting
this but forgetting
what once was
sacred has evaded
even jaded thinking
that you think this is
but it isn't geometry
so please pass me
that three
no it's not
in eights
going metric
you made
a mistake
Form:
In four and sixty syllables
He strains to squeeze some thoughts profound
Into unyielding manacles
Of 8x8 form, tightly-bound.
He seeks to hand-pick words that sound
Unforced by metric obstacles
That sing and sensibly expound -
In short, do verbal miracles!
i feel a deep fear within me,
logical yet irrational
stuck between can and cannot
limited by dimensional thought
theorizing the distance from if to is
every moment measured
by a metric of failure and success
lost in a reality that has not yet
or may not arrive
Mingle with me, in a misty, mimosa moment.
Make my metric mistakes so minuscule.
Maximize my poetic meaningfulness .
Minimize my meaninglessness.
Of my most memorable moments, let me pen.
Memories with members, with momentous souls.
Poetic mathematics, Misty Angel, is my goal!
3-19-2022
Converting within the SI units,
Or metric system,
Is not a tough task.
How do you begin?
There are 2 ways,
That I know,
Dimensional analysis,
By using the powers of ten,
Or moving the decimal by,
Using this acronym,
KHDDCM-
King Henry Died Don't Call Me,
Or King Henry Died Drinking Chocolate Milk.
Which one do you use?
Use the one that is easier to you.
Why can't I write a poem
'bout every shade of color
kaleidoscope sunsets and brilliant blooms
Why's my imagery so much duller ...
Why can't I write a poem
'bout steamy love affairs
where breathless paramours explore
locales no eagle dares ...
Why can't I write a poem
in metric symmetry
Well, I know why ~ If I did that
I'd lose my identity
It's like a wheel turning in my mind
It's nothing some kind of metric slide
My sanity is lost so why do I care
If I only could grow out my hair
But now- I wish that I could leave
But now- I wish that I could see
The Light!!!
'Cause I just wanna go
out tonight (with you)
And I just wanna find a kind
of person just like you
I Love! Like nothing from above
and tonight (with you)
With you.
(A Dedication To All Poets Everywhere)
In the perusal of other Poet's,
Poems and Prose in metric lyric script's
and their celestial writ's,
Which thaw's the Heart of Winter's Cause
to come cascading down with heavenly poise
with noetic phrase's, warm applause,
Some oft' time blending with free verse glee
that makes morose reflections flee
To feast refreshed again, on Summer's spreading spree.
The French call it "dix" - the Romans used X
The number of lords that are leaping Xmas
The total of fingers and thumbs on both hands
The base used for metric - both metres and grams
Count hydrogen atoms in compound butane
Downing Street doorstep, our PM's domain
Legs on a lobster and all decapods
Commandments and plagues that were given by God
The number of toes on the end of our feet
The lines in this poem - that makes it all neat
Drive and drive but you can't get away
But what if the distance needed a break?
You travel and travel but it stays in place
Covering the world but can not move at pace
It wishes it could write or learn in normal life
have a family of Millimeters and go on Union strike
It wishes of love and the ability to breath
but it's only a unit of measurement you see
for it cannot be anything much more
then a unit of math and metric lore...
Impulse impulse impulses
That seven metric beating
Sets forth the measure even
Sooth hear heart beat you see ah
Seven beats the CPU,
Seven for the storage true,
Seven for the network's flight,
Seven keeps the fleet in sight.
Sir acknowledged Admin 'o
Fleet of e'ver Sea O War!
Weaponry worth knowing see,
Logic knowledge a must, now
Torp an enemy with blow
Seven matrix and row - four
Scatters over, under Sea,
penetrate their iron bow.
AGE IS JUST A BS #
The number of birthdays one has had
Can most accurately be calculated
It is said that numbers never lie
But... perhaps they can be manipulated
I tend to favour the metric system
It somehow makes me feel younger
The thought of getting old and senile
Is one thing for which I do not hunger
When I contemplate my age
At 77, I'm thankful to be alive
But it really makes my day to know
That on the Celsius scale I'm only 25
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Lyric
Rhythm’s a trick of deft poets,
who know the pulses of their feet
give lines their tempo. And so it’s
like a poem’s pulsating heartbeat;
it’s hypnotic (and you know it’s
metric),—so drink in its potent beat!
When one hears a song’s rich measure
(the crests and troughs of its music,
the ebb and flow of its leisure),
it tunes like a score symphonic,
an orchestra of paced pleasure
with a sound and style that’s epic!
Sunbeams serenade my window pane
Imploring restful notes to disdain
Abridging curtain the bright melody doth strain
My top sheet covers the harmonious chain
Gilded streams strike heartier refrain
But dissonant chords cloud my brain
A glistening symphony of metric lines retrains
The cerebral rhythms course through my veins
A chorus of light waves entrancing crescendo maintains
From ingratiating pageant my body no longer abstains
Stephen Parker
August 14, 2012
By any thing discernable to man
This metric indiscernible at best
Only noticed gathering as dust
Upon a shelf somewhere back in the stacks
So we invented something that could count
While we attended to more important things
Caught up in the distant space between
Knowing and not knowing the unseen
As if the only sense that can appear
Is the only one which matters in the end
It ends up as collection in the glass
And measures what is now, and what is past
Pity the fool who lives by numbers
He counts his sheep while the sagacious slumbers
Imagines triangles equal or obtuse
Then numbers his thoughts by hypotenuse.
He dreams of trig and long division
Then stimulates his mind with a rhombus prism
Wet duvets caused by a linear quantify
He counts his orgasms by using pi.
Correlation coefficients make him smile
Exercises measured by the metric mile
A career built on a quadratic path
An idiotic devotion to anus numbing math.