Short Numerals Poems
Short Numerals Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Numerals by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Numerals by length and keyword.
Roman numerals
does anyone still use them
maybe a lost art
I used to know them
I have lost that knowledge
might have to relearn
gold leaf Renaissance clock
a rare but unique landmark beauty,
giving us the time in Roman numerals
who can read such a clock?
such intricate details
her clockmaker was brilliant
The eye
defects first
or is the world
which takes the first step
backwards?
no matter
those blurred numerals
on the page
aree tracks
to be followed
the rest of the way
alone.
Form:
LISTENER’S FAVOURITE
I joined the K’s and the C’s but did not sound perfect.
They devoured the particles of C and K.
The majority in A’s was overcast by the blue eyed Z’s
And forever the alphabet interchanged with the numerals as a submission to the shrine.
Form:
Time sits upon both of my shoulders with
white hands ticking promises right, opposite
red numerals counting down the left. Tock.
In this aging valley, this crevice dug by ambiguous stretches,
seconds trickle like months as years can flush like minutes.
An indecisive pendulum never makes a full rotation.
Time passes tick tock tick tock,
Second by second,
Hour by hour,
Watching the hands go round,
A white face with numerals,
It's what tells you the time,
Pendulum swinging back and forth,
It could put you in a trance,
Ornate or plain they all tell the time,
Large or small, freestanding or wall,
Time just carrys on,
Tick tock tick tock
gears
always know
the minutes.
clogs corner
roman numerals.
What bird
lives in you
and how do you
every hour get
the feather symbol
to chirp?
In reaching zenith
time returns again
to downward spiral
i am the last
in the chain of being
for i wind-up
the nest
time builds
on everyone's wall
as metal
pine-cones
ascend
as clockwork
does its
intended
mechanism.
When it is past three in the morning
and you see it blinking in red digital numerals,
and when you feel older than death itself,
then you curl at the corners of your life
like that threadbare rug
you sent to the thrift shop
or the mask the devil wears on Sundays.
Fraying your threads
in the dead-end of the sheets
only the sweat of a forgotten dream
binding you to a silent ticking.
subjects are few
but some are new
chemistry is full of chemicals..
history has kings,
maths has numerals
civics is made of politics...
In geography we fly across "mars"
physics can measure distance of "stars"
English and hindi has stories
Ghost,magic and of mysteries..
biology has cells and animals.
what can we do if they don't have "skell"
REad one by one and learn it..
read it once more and make great fun of it.
Wanted to pay
debts of gratitude.
There was a call from evergreens,
he was not ready to go.
Standing in pit of snakes
he was preparing himself for a random fang,
throat like a blue-bird
waiting for a song.
The solid waste of numerals
across the thinking,
developed plaques, while philosophy
was accepting innovation.
The authority had started
reading the couplets.
Glory came earlier
sea cracked into shells.
SATISH VERMA
I wish I knew the reason why
An X, L, V and I, I, I
Is how one can identify
Which Super Bowl this is.
Though Roman numerals I hate,
Without them, one could not equate
Those letters with game 48 -
It’s almost like a quiz.
I wonder who decided that
The Roman way is where it’s at;
It had to be a bureaucrat
Or mathematics whiz.
So every year I rack my brain
In hopes that yes, I did retain
Those skills to let me ascertain
Which Super Sunday ‘tis.
It may look skin deep but it goes all the way to a soul
A scar on society and the skin of an innocent
numerals meant to identify the person
yet remove them from humanity
Done in the name of ideology
And the politics of bigotry
If such a thing as religion exists
These crimes must have made the angels weep
And deities drop to their knees in shame
Do not be led by politics or religion
Or the words in a book
Trust your heart.
Isolated Poem
Roman numerals
Immortal eternal
Growing old in years
Just writing an Isolated Poem
You can’t cheat death
Work hard until the end
Travel far
Time waits for no one
Chasing after dreams
The clock is ticking
Where does all the time go?
Just being trivial
You can’t live for ever in a clay shell
Dust we shall return
Flowers to ashes
Our breath is silenced
Pictures fade
Narrow roads are ending
A smile towards Heaven
Soul searching returneth
X marks the spot if it’s V plus V
Or what XC needs to add up to C.
To the left of L or perhaps the right
There’s a difference some would consider slight.
Once the C’s add up, then it’s time for D
Which will last ‘til M’s a necessity.
Then it’s fun to challenge a boy whose path
May be one that follows the joys of math.
Placing X and I, L and M and C
To make sense brought smiles to both him and me
So we stopped at the point when I’d taught him plenty
And he knew MMXX was 2020!