Short Midas Poems
Short Midas Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Midas by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Midas by length and keyword.
Tanka
August radiation
Midas burns what he touches
Pale dust and dry leaves
Zephyr wafts heat from hell
Hue of Hades is sky blue
You cannot hold Winter
Children weep for acorns
and their plummets of blackcurrants
They have lost their Midas Touch
Urban foraging is bygone pride
King Midas' name still lives on
Give me riches ,his heatfelt song,
A request soon granted,'ere long-
As all he touched turned to gold
Starving to death,he grew not old !
the alchemist
turned sand into gold
an irreversible transmutation
the beach has disappeared
he now carries the cross
alone and despondent
07-February-2023
M-orn
I-n
D-awn
A-s
S-un
H-as
A-ppeared
Z-ealously
E-ndorses
L-ife's
E-arly
C-lear
L-ight
E-rasing
O-bscurity
Topic: Birthday of Midas Hazel E. Ecleo (September 24)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
He felt so cocksure
his Midas Touch was proctor.
Vegas pulled him down.
Now his Midas touch is brown.
His failure was a shocker.
NB: Inspired by, but not entered in, Edward Ibeh’s This of That, Vol 15 Contest
Midas touched the goose
it laid golden egg a day...
laughing Buddha weeps
Date 10th July 2019
Sponsor Tania Kitchin
Contest Senryu about Greed, Lust or Loss.
5 7 5 counted on PS syllable counter
The bluest of blue
in the eyes of my sweet child;
the most golden gift -
the Midas touch with her life...
the sweet tenderness within.
Not for the "Blue and Gold" contest.
Dedicated to my loving daughter.
Much needs to be done,
The mind sees these,
Days are past gone,
The body is on the lees.
The mind’s door is opened,
There’s a stream of ideas,
What’s closed is reopened,
He wished he had the Midas.
July 3, 2022.
do you hear rustling?
it's the rustling of the leaves.
autumn interweaves.
days are much cooler,
there's no more sweltering sun,
autumn has begun.
trees adorned with gold.
it seems king midas was here.
give autumn a cheer!
His neighbor had the Midas touch
he wanted more than life itself.
Her body: buried in his yard;
her finger: bronzed and on his shelf.
—————
for the Greed Poetry Contest
sponsored by Margarita Lillico
written on 06/21/2022
Touch Owned By Midas
There are things that really delight us,
Like Trump having a case of laryngitis;
Heading South;
Down in mouth;
Thinks he has touch owned by Midas.
Jim Horn
Wife is watching article about St. John's.
There is not one single leaf left.
I’ve always wanted fancy
So my car’s a Bentley
Why am I not satisfied
For years I’ve craved a mansion
My house cost me a ransom
Why am I empty inside
Seems my car and my house
don’t add up to much ~
Could Midas have lost his touch
A dolphin leaps from 'neath the waves
As setting sun dips low
The gilded waves in splendor's glow
Glimmer with the Midas Touch
The dolphin splashes down in a golden hues as such
6-13-18
When Line Five Enables Your poem To Thrive Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
Search the world
for your treasures,
lap up luxury,
fondle greed,
eschew the lowly
and humble
while your ego
struts naked before
a disdainful world.
But I would give up
Shakespeare's crown
and the touch of Midas
to seek the only thing
that matters-- to be
in God's good grace.
the stearn bear
ate the bull
as meat unto idols
(the idle mammals
of mammon
on fence road)
the bags of king Midas filled
as offense rose
the comstock lode
dropped
bovines into stockyards
and the slaughterhouse rules
(u.s.) Pavlovian fools
The yellow of gold.
A symbol of wealth.
It garners respect.
And insures good health.
Man's great love affair.
Like the Midas king.
Can bring many gifts.
As well as tears bring.
A royal color.
And official too.
It looks good on flesh.
And the color blue.
For things dear we hold.
Shines the ring of gold!
A touch of gold
Watch cheer take hold
A certain stuff
More than enough
A sigh joy makes
In gifted take
A heart moves zest
As ripples fest
A move tells much
With a warm touch
A moment's choice
Flings fragrant poise
A heart of gold
A glimpse unfolds
Leon Enriquez
20 August 2017
Singapore
Who is she? We asked each other, not understanding
Could she be a statue or was she real?
Was she a mythical goddess or a witch?
A good witch or a bad witch?
If she could have spoken
She would have told us
She was Midas’ mistress
None of us would have believed it
But it was the truth
Just one more example of unbelievable truth
Such was his damnable gift
Being little more than a curse
Others he wanted to lift
His touch left them so much worse
His mind lacking all insight
Leaving so many disturbed
Utter wrong being his right
He blundered on unperturbed
Freedom his cry for Ukraine
That was the hope of Putin
All he delivered was pain
Just another Rasputin
Purple flames>>Violet flames
A voiceless name///The sting of shame...
Echoes through hollow hearts[[[]]]
Of beggars, liars, gypsies & thieves
Seduced by Midas & his touch
How soon does everything turn to rust???
Allured by empty promises of fame & adoration
Never questioning the $ for such a vice,,,
Never stopping to think twice((()))
Contest : Rolling With The Rs
Sponsor : Nette Onclaud
Date : August 4, 2025
Stray mind
glides on stalled time.
Wave surfer on rough life
grabs mute mementos of split moon,
floating on dim trough of dismal essence.
Memory invents alchemy,
remembrance rust turns gold
in Midas touched
stray mind.
Birds fly,
fish swim,
animals run,
nature sings
the man out of tune ...
The sky turns blue,
the field turns green
the yellow desert,
nature lives
and the man kills ...
Life is power
the man cuts it,
life is God
the man ignores ...
The man is little, but
thinks he is everything ...!
Center of the universe !
Golden flesh,
Midas touch !
Such wonder in fields of marigold
Flaxen dame beauteous to behold
Gently partake of nectar flutterby
Upon fairwinds on balmy sigh
Midas must’ve tarried near
To tint floral atmosphere
Supple petals utmost grand
Abundant allure, blessed land
Meadows sway to natures refrain
Lush tis emerald terrain
Sodden by summer storm
Refreshed tis bonnie form
Locust of green
Swarm of yellow
Procession,
Snakish march along
The snaking path
Obeisance!
Mother,
Dark fertile mother of
Ijesa-isu Land
Giant potter of thousand fingers
Meek moulder of Midas touch
Age-long furnace of golden embers
Behold a citadel
Alas!