Short Needling Poems
Short Needling Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Needling by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Needling by length and keyword.
Happy pumpkins
Apple dumplings
Licorice sticks
Lollipops to lick
Owls hooting
Witches looting
Emerald city dreams
Every Halloween
Needling together fun things
He had left but left
his scent wafting in the room
Needling loneliness
In fathomless crimson cloud
Remembering the pink touch
_________________________________
June 27, 2016
Clouds follow black clouds
Are after some blue and pink
On a grey fabric
You are needling dream applique
With your melancholy breaths
__________________________________________
August 11, 2016
Nosy and bothersome
Nagging Nelly nit picked
needing to meddle, with
nary a thought, as if
nothing could prevent her
nonstop, needling tongue from
notable annoyance.
Written on 4/39/17
A smirk ghosts
by torn lips
razored puce
and throbbing wild
to fire a fusillade
of mortar murmurs
armed with fangs
honed in cauldrons
belching molten words
to palsy the gainsay
of jesters
who scarify and behead
bliss.
Sun rays slide across your face
Inviting silhouette artistic shades of love
Needling fingers plats a braid
Girl dad doing her hair not a fad
Little rituals she enjoys
Emerald ribbons matching joy
Doing all tasks of mom
And those of a daddy
Definitely a hero to your kids
woven into the threads of life
we lapse into one another
strain by strain we wiggle loose
shedding ourselves free
we are each ourselves and no other
alone we strive to belong
needling our way back into the blend
connected together by love and faith
security is a warm blanket
humanity is one person
Ink,
you haunt
ghastly night
like tangled web ~
needling my fingers on blank of pages:
Knotted lines dangle through mind’s labyrinth
until words pour ~
from cracked quill
spilling
blots
Broken Wings’ Form T Contest
~ Double Tetractys, 2nd stanza inverted
8/23/2017
That prowess not exact
mishandling of intent, the wayward stack
taught needlessly, the childish empathy's intact
does meddle, muddle, and retract!
The wisdom of concern does counteract
the concentrated effort, closes lack
dissension in its needling, signals act
while consternation's rendering, faces fact!
Jonquils, whispering in icy shadows,
Argue with January’s chill
Needling her about her coldness.
Upstart prisoners plotting a breakout
Always alert to a break in her façade
Resist complacency’s weakness
Yearn to mimic the sun’s majesty.
©1/5/2018
for January Poetry Contest
Michelle Faulkner - sponsor
You capture me with your radiant smile
Hearty bold laugh impassive and vexing
Little grey hairs in your barely there beard
Needling your chocolate chin for years
Your artistic style and fashion sense
In a suit that could pay purple rent
Of course you write and to my delight
You include me in the story of your life
I can't find words to rhyme,
My thoughts are rusty
My pen covered in grime.
The flow is frosty,
Warmth been a long time
Silence at estuary
Vaporizing what does remain
Needling through the ocean
I endeavour to stitch
A tapestry of emotions
Beautiful and rich.
Mused lines, camouflaging
To string in chord
With the pursuer's tuning.
So as deaf to spacious loitering's retried,
that circulations needling, so bona fide
does penetrate my nerve to cause deride
monopolizing cost and courage stride!
Do listen not, to reach my own confide,
a self, an understanding of my chide.
Yet duldrum's ceaseless wavering
does beg its pride -
In repetitious floundering
destroys times guide!
Grief comes,settles in the veins
And then come the firsts
Needling it to rise and erupt
Crash and clamor
First time as I land and inhale
The air of my land
Will it feel arid and alien
Without your breath mixed in it?
First time my sallow eyes
Searching for a glimpse of you
In the collage of faces
Known and Unknown
Written on:02/27/2016
Gifted golden pen drenched in
Emerald emancipating elegance
Regal red reverie so daring
Sending me singing thinking or dreaming
Humble humorous and socially conscious
Onyx thoughts that hold on to us
Needling patches together so clever
Souls fed by his poetic endeavor
Praying for peace with pen
Engaging his fellow men
Noble and kind gentleman
Dour ferris wheel, are you haunted?
Dark a place to sit peacefully,
enjoy a spell if you’re lonely;
Disguised cloaked in what I wanted,
my insecurities flaunted;
False eyes like you understood me;
Dour ferris wheel
everything inside you taunted;
Needling me repeatedly
low lights glow spectacularly;
Your gloom never left me daunted,
Dour ferris wheel.
Discouraging others
Expecting instant respect
Fingering a bad guy
Imagining worst scenario
Negating someone’s accomplishments
Irritating people in a mean way
Tasting caviar
Eating slimy oysters
Laughing at a person’s misfortune
Yelling about people I have never met
Needling a nefarious never-do-well-er
Ostracizing an ostrich
Tackling a Tiger
Your love, like cactus fruit
its tiny teeth sharp and taunting,
needling the flesh of my soul
you hide behind bold hues
and a spiny point of view,
failing your tenderness
but there's nothing sweeter in nature,
I've tasted its core,
my tongue dribbling succulent sips
of slipped slurs and
sappy sentiments
so I will gather myself beneath moonlight
and pluck petty prickles,
like a woman stupid in love
Delete, Delete, It’s Not!
I picked a poem from a poetic past,
Self-pity, lost love, and dramatic,
Pressed the keys that shared it with the present,
And then, and then
There came a needling wheedling finger point,
“Your ego is in the way” it said
“Someone will be saddened by your words,”
“Not impressed,” a dread, and
This dark feeling pressed on my mind,
My experience could be best forgot, and
Not taint the mind of another, and so
Delete, delete, it’s not!
Winter brims
over bouldered ground
above Rostrevor.
Louring skies meld
blue lough to green forest.
Needling wind keens
through raftered bones,
once homes,
hewn from ancient granite.
Mourne claims her own,
over and over,
defeating generations.
Hasp and staple,
galvanised against the sleekit mist,
defend rude-lintelled doors.
Who comes?
Only ghosts of emigrants,
wraiths of mountainy men
whose quick selves
coaxed poor life
from pale, barren hills
above Rostrevor.