Short More Often Than Not Poems
Short More Often Than Not Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about More Often Than Not by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about More Often Than Not by length and keyword.
Melatonin
Haiku
By: Tom Wright
Melatonin sleep
is conducive to bad dreams
more often than not
There once was a man most ancient
Who, more often than not, was complacent
He flew through the stars
From Gallifrey to Mars
Protecting we humans most nascent
My imagination is sharper than my memory
I make up instead of retelling a story
If I can't recall truth; more often than not
I recreate and invent it
Pessimists call it lying
I don't give names
More often than not
The mind is mellow
Frequently
The mind is focused
Sometimes
The mind is unsure
Once in a while
The mind is enraged
And then
The mind has flashes of inspiration
Undeniably
The mind is amazing
A few more screws loose, some buttons missing
forgetful more often than not
Some days better, most days worse
just part of the prep for casket and hearse
Explaining My Thoughts?
Miracle Man
(Archives)
Trying to explain some thoughts
Is like trying to discern why I had them;
But then, thoughts aren’t meant to be explained
And more often than not, go unshared;
On workdays more often than not
I'll have a small energy shot
Too stay alert
It doesn't hurt
To get a little boost like I got!
But when off no such drinks I'll see
They are replaced most instantly
Quick as a snap
I'll take a nap
And that's just mighty fine by me!
Second Chances 1
Written: by Tom Wright
5/24/2016
Tears often escape my eyes,
When I reflect that,
More often than not,
Only God gives second chances.
For all make mistakes,
While living life in combat,
As man’s credo of,
“Take no prisoners” advances;
Bodies,
Upon bodies,
Underground.
We lose each other more often than not,
The cause of our problems is undeniable,
Though the solution is shrouded.
Death and life unite in a place that is unlike earth,
Unlike darkness,
It’s a different view,
Fresh perspectives,
They hold on when they leave us.
famous after death dutch painter van Gogh
vincent more often than not to nature did go
painted with cheap paints and shadows random
lived in poverty, painted as if chased by a phantom
cut off his ear, mentally ill, his art utterly ignored till
his death, now world famous for his great artistic skill
We all have a place
Where secrets are made
The ones we would rather hide
More often than not
God takes what we've got
And brings it into the light
Beyond the shadow of doubt
Your sin finds you out
No matter how hard you try
It's best to make
The paths you lay straight
Keeping God right by our side
My thoughts flow your way
More often than not
Sometimes when I
Watch you walk away
I think to myself
You might never return
Then what would I do
I'd be lost without you
When I am in your arms
It seems like the whole
The world goes away
I love you
That's all I know
That's all I want to know
beauty can be found
in the simplist of things
joy can abound
from a cloud's silver lining
answers can be found
dustless and shining
wherever you turn
don't stray down along
the path of naught
for it is wretched and wrong
more often than not
like an old familiar song
love the life you've got
and happiness will return
I'm losing interest
In the things I used to love
I'm feeling more and more
Alone
Even with hundreds of people around
It's hard to tell
What's real
I can't stand
The sight of them
Im noticing the things
I hatethe most
More often than not.
I can't concentrate
Because I can hear
The whispers
I can see the stares
I can feel the pain.
One second you're floating on air
Turn around, your cupboard's bare
In April you're up on Cloud Nine
Come May, the stars don't align
In June you croon a sweet tune
By July, life's a wreck and a ruin
Today you cruise the Riviera
Tomorrow you broil in the Sahara
Life's tendency is to surprise
More often than not destabilize
These thoughts paint my mind
dizzying and distorted,
a victim of me;
Shadows take your shape
sitting stuck lodged in my throat;
Hallucinations;
More often than not
larger than they really are,
running on nothing;
Ever expanding
like this lump suffocating,
I am left swallowed;
Blinking back the illusion,
a colossal silhouette.
She wanted to know what love was.
She truly did, she truly tried
More often than not.
She looked for it in strangers, lonesome poets,
Who have nothing but their saudade
For who they used to be.
She looked for
A recollection of what she never knew.
Since humanity had turned its back on her.
Never trying to give her love.
Never wanting it back.
I'll tell you about our Tilly
Who more often than not is quite silly.
When she's safe in the car
(Her barks won't travel far)
This brave dog grunts and howls willy-nilly.
Door is opened, the story's quite different;
It would seem all of her energy's spent.
Now our Tilly's so timid
Because she might be in 'it'.
She must think that the cat is omniscient|
When sitting down to dine
altho' before digging in
I unroll it or unfold it
and tuck it under my chin
or more often than not
place it on my lap
as table etiquette indicates
but never on my napper (nap)
where it would do least good
yet if nowhere known as chinkin
why is it called a napkin
as it seems to me it should
henceforth be a lapkin
I'm on my phone more often than not
Checking my status and all the updates I've got
There's always something there interesting to see
When I finally look up, my family's staring at me
My youngest says Dad, let's play a game
If you could decide, what would be your phones name
I have no clue, do you...she said of course
I've got the perfect name, let's call it divorce...
How do I compare to thee
Your intransience knows no bounds
Id gesticulate more often than not
Your red pattern dress
Your Yes is a No
You're darndest to know
You're like a Newfoundland
leeching unreson
Your everyones bosom except mine
You turn me into wilderness
I do not know my heart ?
I am left speechless
On the morning of your coming
you leave me dumb confounded
~Broken~??
I know you've been broken
More often than not
But try rising again
and forgetting all about your hurtful past
spread your wings and fly
like an eagle-soar above the storm up high
Then those who left you broken
shall slap themselves in regret
Because then
They'll realize you were born to be great
Be afraid not of the storm
For ahead lies the calm
It begs an answer
though often unanswered
to know or not to know
leaves more questions
Acceptance screams why
more often than not
Till the water runs out
the tea pot shouts
Sips too hot
Sips too cold
Tea in the teapot
leaves swirling bold
Knowing not
the when and how
Accepting His Grace
here and now
It's not about the tea
nor the birds or the bees
It is simply life
with all its strife
When did I become such a happy guy
Guess I started out that way
But wasn't my opinion of me starting out
Was kinda reserved kinda shy
Not at all the person I turned out to be
Bold and outspoken humorous at times
Humorous more often than not
Ask me if I would prefer this me
Most definitely a very definite yes
Strange how a person
Can turn out to be someone so different
From the one starting out
The nucleus of my imaginary thought
Did a galloping rendition
Of a spirited horse trot.
The hub of activity dancing in my mind
Whirled and twirled pure silliness
In every cell of mine.
The core of my poetry
Taken captive by my muses
Yes there are three
They will crank them out when ready
Not on my cue, nor my terms
Catching me off guard more often than not.
I am merely a subject. They are my queens.