Short Niches Poems
Short Niches Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Niches by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Niches by length and keyword.
In the spring rain,
the cedars bear alien fruit:
gelatinous growth
like orange sea anemones,
slimy creatures whose
slippery tendrils quiver
sporeful
revolting and fascinating
life
fills all niches
4/22/2018
Mountain Fawns
Above blazing celestial dawns
Elegant fawns gait happily.
Inventing joys keenly lived.
Meeting nature, offers prayers…
Mountain niches share God's abode.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 17, 2010
Poetic form: ABC
ALCHEMIST INFLUENCER-:-
mysterious
hype-ster
transformer
changing
malleable
to GOLD NECROMANCY
buzzing
social
sorcery
thaumaturgy
attracts
with STRATEGIC TRANSMUTATIONING
ambassador
curating
dwimmercraft
protoscientificist
niches
Free will
an
illusion.
Free, limited
only.
Programmed
to a path,
course of
actions
predetermined!
Endless choices,
genetically
constrained.
Aggressive
by nature,
or timid be.
Anything
in between.
Choices constrained
by nature.
Niches filled,
genetically so.
Preprogrammed,
following
the
genetic path
to
free will.
Strides and Niches
Heaven up above,
Shows that there is love.
Sending down sunlight.
Giving day and night.
Niches grow, below.
To hide new birth
Born upon earth
Protecting life
Go, endless strife.
Sometimes dearth.
Can hope girth.
Unearth mirth.
Strengthen.
Lengthen.
Strides.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 24, 2010
Poetic form: Diminished hexaverse
dark and lethal night
listening to the lone hoot owl—
one more dead raccoon
bright and lively day
greeting the morning songbirds—
noisy children
stunning night and day
supplying niches for life—
our mother planet
© January 27, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: HAIKU HODGEPODGE…TRIO ...
Sponsored by Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.
In a deep crypt
With moss covered walls
All damp and musty
Candles cover all the niches
And dark shadows cast
There’s a light
Coming from a crystal ball
In center of the room
Showing twisted faces
That can be used for evil
The witch controls them
Through the channels of the ball
She takes over her devious ways
And brings pain
To innocent people
All for fun
Russell Sivey
Brother, too big for his britches,
Said he wasn’t scared of witches.
Ghosts and goblins brought no fear.
Even dared them to come near.
The morning after Halloween,
He was nowhere to be seen.
And Mama couldn’t find her broom
We looked for it in every room.
We searched all the roads and ditches.
We even looked in little niches.
I shouldn’t laugh ‘til I’m in stitches.
At brother carried off by witches.
My brother, too big for his britches,
Said he wasn't scared of witches;
Of ghosts and goblins had no fear
And dared a demon to come near.
The morning after Halloween,
He was just nowhere to be seen.
We looked for him in woods and ditches,
In cubbyholes and hidden niches.
My mama couldn't find her broom.
We looked for it in every room.
I shouldn't laugh 'til I'm in stitches
At Brother carried off by witches.
So quietly she trips across the floor,
dragging random flotsam and jetsam
she finds in niches the vacuum can't reach.
With evil intent, she crouches at my feet.
Then BONK! I've been kitten-bombed.
She exults in my reaction
of flying drink and floor-bound french fries.
Then she creeps away again
waiting for her next opportunity
to turn on airplane mode,
shut down the computer without saving
my changes,
and scare me half to death.
Buried beneath all that's grey matters,
Convoluted in the circuitry ...
Lie the tiniest, little tidbits of
Distinction, to drive us to mystery.
They seem to protrude upon our psyche,
Like a reddened thumb, stuck to a hand.
While frolicking along the subconscious,
Looking to interrupt what is planned.
As pets go, these 'peeves' outlast,
Most other thoughts that come in play.
With an enduring quality beyond a
Visit ... with a preference to stay.
You pass by me like a faint cologne -
the scent barely grazing my senses.
I am as empty as a widow's soul.
Your ghostly caresses die like
a distant reflection.
You are an owl beating
your broken wings
into corner niches
that do not encumber my soul.
Feathers slowly drift to the ground like
Autumn leaves almost hovering
in mid-air.
You steal light from the white-hooded moon
as your vacuous demeanor dissolves
into nothingness in the thin air
of a peach-colored sky.