Short Mutiny Poems
Short Mutiny Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Mutiny by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Mutiny by length and keyword.
in Captain Hook's dream
Peter Pan is forever gone
Smead has a fantastic brain
Hook is revered
His crew would never mutiny
and his enemies have all walked the plank
An Oppportunity for Unity
Never turn the results into a mutiny;
Can make them into an opportunity;
Take advantage of;
Then truly love,
And utilize things to promote unity.
Jim Horn
Scrutiny of Mounting Mutiny
Wanted to feel secure so had a scrutiny,
Of what would be big mounting mutiny;
How they react,
To body contact;
Immediately knew ir required immunity.
Jim Horn
Opportunity for Scrutiny
At first, found it to be an opportunity;
After I had looked with more scrutiny;
Wondered around,
And balance found;
Me and my bank account had a mutiny.
Jim Horn
H M S Bounty
harsh sadistic Captain Bligh. . .
Fletcher's restraint breaks
Copyright © 2018 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
First published 2018 in Hollywood Haiku via wattpad.com
Thou hast knocked
thrown thy rocks
at my window
Perhaps open heart surgery
a sharp tool required
to get thru decades of barricades
the ship that sailed is docking
the mutiny so long ago
I wish i missed you,
Then my love would be true,
If you were here,
There would be no tears,
Not a problem in our mind,
There won't be one to find,
For we met destiny,
It is no mutiny,
It is time to stop,
Before we both drop.
What is this which is called destiny
Is it the same as mutiny?
We rely too much on fate
Lest we lose ourselves
In the bogus world
Which binds us all
To something
Known as
Life!
Contest : Imagination
By : Nette Onclaud
Date : 7 June 2012
Lived eight years in a retirement community
Best eight years, so thankful for the opportunity
Elderly ladies clamoured around me
Best looking oldster they ever did see
Had to beat them off with a stick to avoid a mutiny
Soft, like solitude, silent and still
Soothing away the sorrows,
Grumbling, rumbling, suggestions
Muffled by mystery, our history –
Trembling beneath the shadows,
Quivering in life’s strange insurgences
Lived eight years in a retirement community
Best eight years, so thankful for the opportunity
Elderly ladies clamoured around me
Best looking oldster they ever did see
Had to beat them off with a stick to avoid a mutiny
Never too old!
"So long as we live in the mutiny of archaic order, there will be no lack of dispensation to the sorts of liberty that's lost under it's rule of exploitation, soley designed, to enslave the benefactor of a free-thinking mind."
Alfredo Gonzales ©
The Cane Mutiny
He had but one leg and one eye
and a ship run aground sitting dry
but his cane - still attached
and his limp - unabashed
caused the ladies to mumble – “OH MY”.
©4/8/2019
Pirate Themed Limerick Poetry Contest
Tania Kitchin sponsor
Horn Perfect Opportunity saying
People prefer a perfect opportunity
That always amounts to much unity
Not cause, create or end up in mutiny.
James Serious Mysterious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
I decided to come up with
another form of Horn poetry.
Form:
CALL TO ACTION
Whether it’s chance or destiny
It is just what we make of it
There will be time for scrutiny
Whether it’s chance or destiny
And should we start a mutiny
From which we all might benefit
Whether it’s chance or destiny
It is just what we make of it
Your eyes mull over my cheekbones in silence.
They have decided something,
these mutiny parts of ours.
If only they could sprout mouths,
tell us what they have found,
then we might not be here --
me with the dead skin of my fingers,
you with your brown patches for eyes.
Woke up from deep peaceful sleep
Acid reflux turquoise troubling me
With regret I rethink what'd I eat
Cheesy potato skins culprit me thinks
The food is rebelling behind my breast
Like blue boat sailing in my chest
Gas and vomit won’t let me rest
I must eat better I cranberry confess
We are on a precipice of War
Yet you spurn the most skilled Knight
Just to stoke your selfish Desire?
You choose pettiness over the Realm
The tempest is Imminent
Yet you let the chief captain disembark
Just to assert your dominance against mutiny?
You choose self-aggrandizement over Lives.
Oh Master!
Lust is like the salt of the sea.
The artificial Ambrosia or Siren's fomented Mead.
Augmenting thirst, the more you drink.
Forgetting the drink came first. Then came a thirst.
To be unshackled to idols in idle mutiny.
Before the fermentation of idolatry. Figureheads,
flotsam and shipwrecks on the seven stormy seas.
Love and romance
Emotions, they soar
Time stands still
Like a frozen fire
Passion, it erupts
The bodies mutiny
Raging, I touch you
Life cells rearrange
Carnage, rebirth
Wild and uncontrolled
The soul is awakened
Desire mounts, waiting
The heart begins to sing
It is a beautiful song
It is the song of love
~Rick Berry
Wading through cascading emotions,
I feel within me warring oceans,
Losing you, love, could cause such turmoil,
If I had known, your death I'd have foiled,
Lost that war with time and destiny,
Now I trudge on in hushed mutiny.
25th April 2023
For Line Gauthier's "Bite Size Contest No. 62"
You came in and spilled your guts all over the house
Bully Anger
Condemns, I am weak
and react like an electric fence
zigzagging mutiny
What for?
This stupidity has no end
Sit in silence
This is about something else
Bruised egos
I'm trying to douse mine in flames
Leave me my freedom
I will always leave yours
Form:
This distance between us rests beneath my ribs.
Expanding in the chambers of my heart ,
taking mutiny over it’s passage ways .
My vessels ring with emptiness.
And in Your absence,
Your hair shamelessly curls around my every possession.
Elaborating on the intricate spaces,
I do not have the capacity to fill.
My spine curls around You softly.
Form:
Alive and given a destiny
Love of parents was in mutiny
Grew up in a cold slum
Had a choice, every Sunday the church would come
Life was lived on the highway
His spirit died he lived without The Way
He is the "man", but with no brain
Playing stunt on top of a moving train
The devil dashed him the final blow
See his sober dead body like a cat's mew
If erupts again –
the eternal hate of caucuses.
A pipe bomb detonates in a gulley.
Death glides as a superman
like a mutiny in the bowl.
Night stumbles against the kissing moon
on the shore of waning hope.
I will not mourn for my color
I am still nursing a grief.
Walking alone in the shadow of walls
to unhear the screams of dawn.
SATISH VERMA