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.


Premium Member Of This Year

Fifth of November
One quarter from age eighty
Memories intact…
Sorry to those in metric
Twenty five percent to go

 © Harry J Horsman 2022
Form: Tanka


Premium Member AN Anacreon CLERIHEW

Anacreon the  greek born circa 580 BC
loved to pen erotic  poetry
alternating long&short in syllabic metric
lyrically untranslatable from the ionic
Form: Clerihew

Abused

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
Form: Limerick

Masque De Poesie

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.
© Steve Eng  Create an image from this poem.
art
Form: Verse

Centimeter

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.
Form: Rhyme


Lost In Translation

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:

Premium Member Its all '

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.)

Life's Flower

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:

Premium Member Verbal Miracles

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!
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lay

Crooked

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

Premium Member A Plea To Misty Angel

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

Coverting Within the Si

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.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Why Can'T I Write a Poem

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
Form: Rhyme

Over and Over Again

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.
Form: Rhyme

-poetic Streaming Flow-

(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.
Form: Verse

Ten

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
Form: Verse

Kilometer

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...
Form: Couplet

The War of Meter 7 7 7 7

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.
© Scott Hamm  Create an image from this poem.

Age Is Just a BS number

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
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Poetrysoup Footles - Not For Contest

Poetrysoup Footles

1. Poem Taking a Vacation

          Footle
          Tootle

2. Poison Pen Poet

         Stinker
         Inker

3. Long Poison Pen Poem

        Septic 
        Epic

4. On Suffering Writers Block

       Lamebrain
      Quatrain

5. On Finishing a Heavy Going Poem

      Complete
      Concrete

6. Short Asian Religion Poem

     Hindu
     Haiku 

7. A Poem Written in Europe

     Metric 
     Lyric
Form: Footle

Premium Member Musings On Poetic Metre, Rhythm, and Song

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!
Form: Rhyme

Daybreak's Imploring Symphony

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
Form: Couplet

Premium Member The Measure

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

Math

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.
Form: Rhyme

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace