Short Museum Poems
Short Museum Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Museum by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Museum by length and keyword.
I'm parked here everday
passing my day away-
I hear all..
But cannot say
see art museum sculpture in Iolanda's blog today
IS ART A FRAUD
LIFE IS A FRAUD
ART IS LIFE
ART IS LAME
ART IS ROUSE
ART IS FAME
ART IS A MOOSE
STUFF IT AND A PUT IT IN A MUSEUM
In the museum of life
a new way of seeing.
Through the looking glass of reality
living symbols shake hands
with the chaotic &familiar
i just
paid
more
for a
glass
of wine
then i did
to gain entry
into the modern
museum of art
Cartagena
Colombia
twenty
twenty
Form:
My art scattered at will.
Randomly up on the walls to see.
They say "à la louvre".
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Toilet Seat Art Museum USA
Shown by appointment every Tuesday
You think I’m lying?
It’s art, and I’m dying.
4.9 stars. Texas, I’m on my way!
Oldest museum was built in Iraq
Built by Babylonian princess – fact.
No one knows her name.
She was just a dame.
If she’d been male, they’d have kept track.
River takes to sea
Everyhing from bank's treasure
Sea becomes a museum.
Life weaves tapestry
Time carries to the future
On torn page of history.
May 3, 2019
River transports far
Everything the banks offer
Sea becomes a museum.
Life writes strange stories
Time carries to the future
On torn page of history.
May 2, 2019
I saw a man
Hugging a rhino,
Why he was
I really don’t know!
I know some people
Like to hug a tree,
But a stuffed rhino
In a museum,
This surely can’t be!
Dream
garden
perpestives-
became his new
art
Tiffany's mosaic in what was the Curtis Bldg Philadelphia
http://www.pafa.org/Museum/The-Collection/The-Dream-Garden/304/
Voices mutter
echoes carry on
reflecting from ceilings
Streams of faces
mirrored in varnish
pale blank stares remember
Old paint cracking
limestone's polish fades
thin civilization
Voices mutter
echoes carry on
reflecting from ceilings
Streams of faces
mirrored in varnish
pale blank stares remember
Old paint cracking
limestone's polish fades
thin civilization
That magnificent canvas on the museum wall
Is it a bubble, a bauble, a bird -- or nothing at all?
Its mystery the artist masterfully disguised
So patrons will its enigma forever analyze
May we be blessed to understand and enjoy the diversity of art
whether in a museum
or on a nature walk….
from the artists who work on the canvases of today
to the artists whose canvases were rocks.
Human beings are displayed beside the dinosaurs
in the museum built by cockroaches...
little did we know when we were around
that they would evolve to become the earth's stewards...
and do a much better job.
It’s his first time
Visiting Brevard
Since London
Got her wings,
He misses
His dear
Little dog
So much,
Such a
Special lady,
That London,
A personality
Big enough
To fill
A museum,
And so
Much more.
In Japan, believe it or not, there's a Poop Museum!
Kids slide down into a gigantic toilet, oh what freedom
Since I was a kid
A dream which I hid
To jump with two sisters in our toilet as a threesome
Lara
You should be kept in dark room of museum,
Where they would pay before you're seen and called,
For your beauty's fiercer than strength of sun.
19:01:02:11:43
Josh Berry. Ancestral Pen. Ancestral Form. Lara
Her skin, pale and fragile
as bone china
protected by a heart
inviolable, gilded threads
weft and warp cloth-of-gold
that flys pennoned from her
shoulders, red hair burning
brighter as she competes
with the setting sun
The world's oldest surviving toy, dating back to the Chalcolithic Period, approximately 7500 years old, is exhibited at the Mardin Museum in Turkey.
the world oldest toy
about seven thousands years
car made of good wood
There's a history of heartbreak tucked in the creases of every expression on her face.
In her eyes, a museum of moments that she silently watched just pass by her, and each tear that escaped her held the things she'd left unsaid.
Jones, Jones, where are your bones?
I'd like to hear again your moans, your groans,
underneath loathed graveyard stones,
all with weird sepulchral tones,
me and all my friends, the crones,
wailing o'er the bones of Jones.
One day a rainbow, painted itself upon a still damp sky. It’s palette of pastel soft orange, yellow, pink, lavender and blue, slowly blended by its own brush; a magical work of art, exhibited in a heavenly museum.
The museum curator brought in tons of carpet beetles
The staff did not understand until they were shown
Carpet beetles will eat almost anything
They rapidly cleaned flesh and hair off animal skeletons
Like piranhas except out of water