Short Mutterings Poems
Short Mutterings Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Mutterings by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Mutterings by length and keyword.
Bubbling brook
mumbles beautiful poetry to the wind,
And as curious birch trees
lean in to hear its mutterings,
a swiftly running stream sings.
that love flies by on silver wings
what hurts the most is how it stings
but rise we must for love it brings
us lonely little ding a lings....Don Johnson
mutterings
I see you in dreams,
those inconsequential things,
shaped in busy slumber.
I call to you - with
continual mutterings
- but do you listen?
good and evil go hand in hand,
the propaganda flows just like the sand,
where comes election time,
mutterings of the mime,
lies at attention stand.
Don Johnson
a glass butterfly,
with transparent wings,
rests on a wet fern-
oh such lovely things!
___________________________________
February 27, 2017
Poetry/Jueju/Simple Mutterings/Glass Butterfly
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 10029-88-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
I scream at the universe
for injustice and unimagined pain
when my GOSSAMER heart opens
the gate of GRIEF-STRICKEN memories
of a GHOSTLY face
that lies in a GRAVE of GODFORSAKEN despair
still GROANING inside my soul
where I crumble in tear-stained
mutterings of worthless thoughts
of days and nights that could have been
Branded
Written: by Miracle Man
8-10-2017
Uninvited thoughts from times departed,
Reverberate from mind’s obscure corners,
Residue from days long ago;
Ghost mutterings of clock and location,
When San Diego’s surf was up,
My time of life was young,
And life unstressed,
Before age launched its claim on me;
my bedroom mirror is broken -
an arrant illustration of torment
wrists landmark a spectacle carved in crimson blood
damaged mutterings seeking acceptance
darkness in the corners of self
rapacious hunger cut off by unfilled desire
ribs devoured and exposed, but covered
hiding pain in plain sight
famished; none the wiser
with a cracked precision, I smile
Pelican 20-20
The Pelican stood an cursed awhile,
The air was like duck soup,
He'd been forced to walk 4 thirty miles,
His flapping got him poop,
The pollys here still deny,
There is no climate change,
Lock him up ol johnson, why?
His mutterings are strange,
The airports closed, no planes you knows,
The airs unfit to try?
Jumbo's gone, chicken barns, the go,
And sultry Pelicans caint fly.
Don JOhnson
I always listen to the mutterings
as they shuffle by
The disheveled genius
composing words that gently
hold emotion
The artist never rests
for works remain incomplete
that hope of perfection
lost behind his eyes
The dancer in the rain
hides joy in movements between the looks
of disdain from strangers passing
The gentle notes that tease tear to cheek
from voices never caged
The alone who wear it
without choice
Surmised, assumed
Foreboding shadows brood
Like omens without mediums
Their strange impressions loom
Blind they seem
Gloating as they gleam
Rippling, murmuring
Stifling a scream
On the brink of speech
Their mutterings recede
Occupied by the thoughts
Of the lost and in between
Conceit or dream
Mythic or obscene
They coddle with a moonlit bribe
Confiding the unseen
Written by © Raven Drake
And when she spoke,
sparks flew from her eyes
and the very meaning
of life ceased
making sense.
There were intense
mutterings amongst
the universal elders
causing the known
worlds to shake,
planets did quake
and turn on their axis.
Long ancient dreams
were uncovered
and revisited.
Old maids returned
to young maidens,
all was forgiven,
peace waited quietly
in the wings and
everything old was
shattered,
making way for brave
new beginnings.
Form:
My mind is on red training wheels
Muse is gone and I’ve got a thrill
In writing about shouting daffodils
Moving around never staying still
Lost in thought a fun place to be
With original parts wonderful dreams
The art of heavy hearts creating
The next Noah’s ark in valley green
And they’d say you’re manic and mad
Why build an ark in valley green grass
They’d pick and jest with jubilant laugh
But time will tell and dispel peach path
Beautiful pink flowers with petals of rose
Blown by the icy wind into a delicate pose.
Untouched by small or large human hands,
A field of blossoms spread across the land.
Nature’s presence so perfectly impearled
In this violence, stolen from a dream world.
It’s far too difficult for our flawed hearts to cease
Their mutterings if we leave the scene in peace.
The soft gentle petals curl up into a ball,
Withering brown, crunching up and fall.
When he's chalking trouble deep,
He'll be talking in his sleep,
If you peep, then you will find
The fear that creeps in his mind;
Grunting and groaning in pain,
You'll hear him moaning again,
Those mutterings won't be clear,
His stutterings seem severe;
He pours out his dreadful dreams,
A sudden shout, as he screams,
That cry of shock wakes him up,
His sleepy talk shakes him up.
(7 syllables per line)
01/18/17
I held my baby
so perfect and very dead
and kissed his cold lips.
Till my last breath I will mourn,
my mourning shall shatter hearts.
I dressed him in blue
and laid him in sweet repose,
many passed with tears.
I had to let my boy go,
that parting haunts me ever.
_______________________
December 19, 2017
Poetry/Tanka/Simple Mutterings/Mourning and Parting
Copyright Protected, ID 17-9742-39-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.