Short Papery Poems
Short Papery Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Papery by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Papery by length and keyword.
dejavu disguised as dreams
infiltrate
reality careens
impaled on mountains
built on fear
screaming in terror
streaked in tears
papery shrouds
ripped away
shaking arms
embrace a new day (C) MJR 2010
on blue-frozen snow
small mouse papery rustling ~
path sparkles with stars
THESE WOUNDS ARE FRESH
MY BRITTLE BONES
CAN'T HOLD THE WEIGHT
SPLINTERED LIKE GLASS
I'M FLIMSY
IN THIS FRAGILE SHELL
RELEASE ME
FROM THIS TENUOUS COIL
I'M BOUND TO THE EARTH
BY PAPERY THREADS
I AM THE ETHEREAL ONE.
Gentle winds, soft landings
Never ignore the things
That are free…
Among which is:
The papery rustle
Of Dragonfly wings
The morning sunrise
The smell of blossoms
Evening sunsets…and
The briny breeze
That wafts from the sea
PACKING BABIES
packing babies
like sick vats
vases of acid
open an abscess
I watch…
as a million
people run into
their thin papery
nowhere lands
safe
without stains
on their
fluorescent
fairytale
brains
© Kim van Breda—2 November 2015
Silver haired, the year
rests in the field.
Crows gather
on the sycamore bones.
The day is like glass.
Winter lurks
in the shadows.
In brittle glades,
papery pods protect
the last seeds.
Spiky coneflowers stand tall;
the goldfinches had their harvest.
Everywhere signs
of a cycle
fulfilled.
December 24, 2017
Oh, closed book! The impossibility
That you would open to me
Why can't I reach out
To find out
About.
Oh, the dust on you! Nobody's read
The thoughts inside your papery bed
Look at the words
Can't be heard
Absurd.
Remember the tree you came
Knocked down by a yellow crane
Now here you are
Changed by far
Paper.
Inky bruises smeared
Across papery white arms.
Silver scars overlapping
Rich azure veins.
Crooked bones
Under worn muscles.
Her body,
A canvas,
A book,
Full of stories
And lessons she's learned
And has told to few
And open to you.
Hold carefully,
Speak lightly,
And like an injured bird
She'll sing them all for you.
Rows of houses, leaves in gutters
Slanting shadows half obscuring
Borrowed light from a dying sun
Home of ghosts, papery facade
Twitches inhabit foreground air
Visible to the keen observer
More bits of nothing to disregard.
As if you could.
Assembled on a vacuum base
With faith connecting the floating visions
Which are called life.
Pray, life!
On gossamer lips
Wisped coppery tendrils
Showering sparks
Riding evening breezes
That radiate off my
Eyelashes in papery
Wet slivers
Sticking only when
Your song of ill-boding
Is breathed over me
Its primitive amity
Contused and crusted
On baneful syllables
In sweet consummation
Where at last I see the
Crumbling bouquet
That’s falls
Onto your pages
Bookstore, Musty Galore
Allen's Old Gold Discover,
SecondStory Pages of Glory,
Kelmscott Shelves Soar & Hover,
1st Editions Scarce Recovery,
Fore Edge Paintings Lover,
However It's Cheapo Papery,
Provides a Comfy Nest Plover,
Finding Fresh Author Flesh Scary!
Going Broke Buying A Great Cover,
I'm Not Waiting 'til Old & Hairy,
Grazing Tomes is Similar to Clover,
Diet As Extant Goodreads is Nary!
A soft excited glowing sunburst center shows her love to flying things
a cheerful strawflower shows love to grasshoppers whose legs zing
Papery bracts pose as petals, fooling beetles falling from forest trees
Her patchwork quilt attracts butterflies, humans, and native bees
Butterflies flock to the quilt of the meadow, enjoying strawflower reveal.
Reveling in the happiness of the day and the joy that they now feel
I can't say I'd do anything
But I'd do a lot
For those crisp green papery babies
Ejected from cash machines
I'd give you a vial of blood
A touch of my hand
A listening ear
A few words of assurance
I'd even give you
My hand for a dance
Let your fingers
Trace my back, my hips
I'd agree to some skimpy attire
Reveal some cleavage
I am no more than flesh and blood
Not above or beyond
From ashes I rise
To ashes I will return
Whenever a papery butterfly
alights on a sweet scented bloom,
a rainbow arcs over the desert,
and there's a smile on the face of the moon
When the tiger bee sips from the chalice
of a perfectly formed daffodil,
spring instantly turns into summer,
and the sea becomes perfectly still
When the gentle dove glides over rivers
that mirror his wings like a twin,
the rattle of guns promptly ceases,
and real peace can surely begin
I twist with each terrible moan
escaping your lips in distress
while you lie prone, never alone,
to guess or stress on progress
of that mass invading you
sparked by ecology's change
to accrue tissues untrue
deranged limp in the exchange
until pulsing force vacates
through the tears welling inside
as their chemicals placate
to guide you outside doe-eyed
with papery sympathy
numbing such churning decay
to quake me with empathy
this day as you drift away.
Strewn across a wide plain,
sheep bones dazzle
in the bright sun.
On the horizon,
phantoms coalesce then melt
away into watery lies.
The only sound
is the dry, papery whispers
of saltbush rasped
by a hot wind.
The stone walls of a derelict
farmhouse make a last stand
against the encroaching desert.
A big sky has claimed its roof.
Out of the shadows
of a paralysed windmill,
a shiny black beetle
leaves little footprints
as it wanders across the face
of this abandoned world.