Short Must(A) Poems
Short Must(A) Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Must(A) by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Must(A) by length and keyword.
And thus Prince Hamlet
In suicidal reflect,
Makes his own gauntlet
And by distrust and suspect
Must a murderer detect.
Why must a shared smile and a high five
send ripples of pain shivering through my body?
Cringe, oh cringe, at the double-edged sword of desire!
How many roads must a man stumble down
Before an officer escorts you downtown
And how many times
Must you give a dog a sign
No depositing stuff indoors the color brown
My Salvation:How many wild seas must I sail across before I reach ashore?
Inspired by "Blowin' in the wind" by Bob Dylan:
"How many roads must a man walk down"
~12/12/15
~One Liner 7 contest by Silent One
First love proves itself but once
To leave a blessed scar.
How foolish must a mortal be
To fade such a shooting star.
But time shall not be trifled
And old age will play a part.
When death displays its icy grip...
First love will warm your heart.
The End
my grandpa was an ex-KAR soldier
that was before he died
he fought in WW2 as a teenager
but the so called hero
by the ones who wrote our history
was not able to build himself a house
a story of war
must a soldier fight for what's not his?
put in a course he cannot alter?
Why must a man measure his success
in the amount of "stuff" he owns?
When at the end of his living days
he must leave it all with a groan?
Why must we have more than our neighbor?
There is no prize to win.
You will just spend your life never living
only to leave it all in the end.
For a sky to be blue what light might praise,
towards the newly dawning greys,
for white cloud, embers, a sunset bright,
praise to heaven, praise to light,
Oh why must a sky keep changing,
arranged by painted shapes and form,
just as the seasons too do change
From hot and cold too warm.
1970’s FIX
Tied, bound, cinched
Must-a-bin-bad
Fastened, secured, fixed
Must-a-bin-bad
Trussed, restrained, enslaved
Must-a-bin-bad
Strung, laced, affixed
Best lay still
Learn not fight it, else
It gets tighter
Sunshine Williams
And here I sit in my sitting chair,
An armless wooden failed repair.
Sores a grind of bone and cheap,
From junk pieces of a tree heap.
For what madness I do not know,
Must a chair be filled with woe.
A red bottom, I fear I'll face,
From a seat of devilish embrace.
But I think I shan't think such thoughts,
Of all that's thunk, but thought for naught.
He stands at the edge
Peering through the fence
The silence of solitude roars in his mind
Deep lines on his brow cruelly mimicked in steel
Black shadows lie on the parched sun soaked dust even as they lie across his soul
What evils must a man commit to protect his own
Somewhere the war rages on without him
Contest : Shadows and Lines
9th Place
It is the change of the season
Summer has left-Autumn is here
The days will begin to be longer
The summer weather is gone
Autumn will bring cooler cold air
Now a huge weather change
Time for sweaters and jackets
Autumn has country fairs
Everyone enjoys them
Also the bright color leaves
To enjoy the beautiful season
Oh! A must a hay ride in the
farmer's field
We are memory’s preserved and not forgot
We become ghosts or spirit hosts
In life we hate the name, In death we feel no shame
Body’s Evicted and re-homed in the ground
But that’s not for me as I stated before passing I want to be cremated
I added to my will as a must a request for my mortal dust
It was a simple wish find a peaceful place full of fish
And set me free as this is where I will finally rest.
Seen through a country, a family or an individual timeline,
Diligence and thrift bear rise while extravagance decline.
Why do we cherish a pillow made of amber?
Why must a cart be inlaid with pearls purer?
It’s hard to find talents when the country is at stake,
And to ward off devils when its foundations quake
How many people read the emperor’s aspirations?
Here I do lament over his unfulfilled ambitions.
(Tran.)
Once upon a time
I dare to walk
Across the blurry line
On a snowy winter’s day
I walk through the woods
Surrounded by aspen and pine
Stony figures surreal and sublime
How many times must a line
Be bounded by space and time
Truth connected from end-to-end
Fingers always count to ten
Then count back to nine
Arrive at a place in time
When focused on a single point
Then you appear, as blurry as a kitten
Truth be known, I am a line
I took a walk on Yorkshire green
And met a snobbish English lord
He asked what right I had to been
In gentlemanly tones so bored
I smiled at unctuous nose so high
And said I had na' meant t' pry
But I'd been simply walking by
And stopped to sip a little rye
But if I'd hurt his simple pride
To please consider suicide
He left in such a royal huff
It must a been just quite enough
T'see a man wi' soul sa free
He'd deign t' e'en speak wi' thee
Oh say
Can we see?
What is country,
What can it be?
Are its citizenry
Inclusive and free?
What gender is innocent
In our mist?
What higher moral code
Can we resist?
Which pigmentation
Or spiritual quest
Should unite the nation
For the singular best?
What part of human kind
Must a country keep in mind?
What can a country be
That limits liberty,
If all these things
A country cannot be
Then nothing
In this country
Shall be free.
How many roads
must I traverse
before I get home?
How many seas
must I sail
before I reach ashore?
How many heartbreaks
must I endure
before I find love?
How many wars
must I fight
before I win freedom?
How many lives
must I live
before I reclaim my soul?
How many demons
must I confront
before I find God?
~Inspired by "Blowin' in the wind" by Bob Dylan:
"How many roads must a man walk down"
~"Music to my ears" contest by Silent One