Short Mutating Poems
Short Mutating Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Mutating by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Mutating by length and keyword.
“It’s a snail, crept up on
by a spider, mutating into a
porcupine, being eaten by a jellyfish!”
What a work of art!
I apologize, mere words cannot describe it!
Meeting you in the court of dawn,
Yes! We played and cried on life’s lawn.
Mutating dreams to reality the task at noon,
Ordering my trembling steps to the moon
Tearing our fate at dusk
Hands of death task
Earth you depart mot my path
Resquicat in pace and in my heart
Said the Guru - Saying: 181
Don’t drizzle on me because
you definitely don’t want me to drizzle on you.
I have syphilis, aids and mutating mad cow disease.
Are you sure you want some?
Then wear a darn mask.
©Al Juman- The said Poet
Scripture(do onto others what you would want done to you}
Explained -do not do unto others what you would not want done to you
A make belief world was conjured by my mind,
propelled by heart’s desire for variety
but then these illusions gripped me in its bind,
mutating fear forms dancing in gaiety
and thus floundering about as do the blind,
unable to manage my mind’s anxiety,
I turned attention inward, in cessation,
thus becoming the flame of bliss sensation.
11-March-2023
Corona has made a hot soup
caught us unawares, in a coup
a hothead.
We love to touch, hug eachother
enjoy our drink, chat together
with hotdog.
This weakness Corona exploited
mutating, making us doited
a hotrod.
Wanting to do damage contain
caregivers hurried, to maintain
a hotline.
Humans' old habbits die very hard
older and sick, it did bombard
as hotbed
13.5.2020
Building your space,
you were dying daily
invading the acoustics.
How the continence
was going to help-
living with scars of explosions ?
Mutating into a full-fledged
saintliners, an inner conflict
becomes a profile.
Crawling to a stone
a crayon draws a cell
without incendiary rhetoric ?
Decoding an icon
becomes a daily ritual. From
where will come the write ?
Satish Verma
Have we ceded our stewardship
allowed a systemic sepsis to spread
acquiesced to the benign malaise
of Death’s directing finger?
Spending billions to cure diseases
caused by poverty’s pestilence
arming ourselves against an assault
of mutating microbial minds
Offering triage to the fatality
of futility’s folly
bandaging life’s severed limbs
sound biting our souls.
Who took the village?
©8/1/2019
Sound of Silence Poetry Contest
John Hamilton sponsor