Short Patch Up Poems
Short Patch Up Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Patch Up by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Patch Up by length and keyword.
To some
folks
Life is like
a quillt
For me
It’s a
Cut &
Paste
Job
(1)
Split up all at once
instantaneous patch up
to kiss and make up
(2)
Ideas not matching
lack of trust and loyalty
break up relation
(3)
Split up relation
rejuvinating lost love
leave at the altar
(By Kishan Negi)
***
Write me, tinker;
I’m falling apart.
Right me, thinker;
patch up this heart.
Stitch each seam
with thread eternal;
mend ragged edges,
remnants infernal.
Take what’s worthy,
make it shine.
Fairly, justly,
restore what's mine.
***
Living is tearing up,
is to patch up "
weave labyrinths and
slip away... sew up
patchwork paths... !
living is drawing oneself
on the screen of the world,
sans pencil and no
rubber
to efface...!
A green smoke was rising
to ferret out
the elusive pain
without body.
I went in search of
fidgety words
to patch up the conflicts
of flesh.
Bold as Passiflora,
Crucifixion was complete.
Today a gift of obeyance
will arrive.
It was a fake.
The eyes on the hump.
Camel has to cross
a steep desert.
Satish Verma
Form:
All I ever wanted was for someone to love me.
To
Look deep into my soul
See the cracks on the floor.
Excavate my caves
Only to stand up to the waves.
Dive through the abyss
And come greet me with a kiss.
Touch me where it hurts
Feel one-thousand volts of Hertz.
Use different kinds of techniques
To patch up my leaks.
Cause all I ever wanted was you.
Form:
the mirror shows the other sides,
the sides you patch up with compromise,
you repeat to cover not to see,
the flaws of your own reality,
what others can't see, you know to be true,
unmasked through the mirror inside of you,
these shattered pieces,
a mending heart that drives in weakness,
the strength and love it took to survive,
through the tears and pain it took to get by
My Best Buddy and Friend
Jesus will be my buddy and best friend;
And what I heard is that he does intend,
Remove my sin;
Save me again:
Differences we have patch up and mend.
Jim Horn
Adversary Was A Canary
What I heard is a jailbird they became,
Along with those similar and the same;
Their adversary,
Was a canary;
Enjoyed singing for his fortune and fame.
Jim Horn
I think broken hearts never heal.
How's that provide any weal?
They simply patch up
When we try to match up
Ourselves with a new deal
We must find new spaces
In our heart's places
For brand new passions
That its beats can ration
But that still leaves traces
Old ones there do hide
As they must inside
As they should
It's not love if you don't imbibe
The bad with the good...
Change is at first strange
Bringing a new range
To one estranged
Change breaks all things up
Beyond mere patch-up
In broken cup
Change fashions new things
As new season flings
A touching spring
Change sparkles right now
Beyond why and how
As grace endows
Change is beyond mood
Like a puzzling good
In a strange food
Leon Enriquez
04 January 2018
Singapore
I had a funeral for my heart 2 years ago
and even though I fell on more traps in
the quest for revival it never came.
I always thought the next person would
come along and some how patch up
the hurt and the pain. I am excited to
say that I'm no longer in mourning.
My heart is just fine and I am no
longer hurting. I'm officially ready
for love and all the blessing that will
follow.
He dreams of thin chickens pecking at a dirt floor.
A big brown teapot is stuffed with scraps of poetry;
words waiting to be led out like bawling cattle
into the haze and dust.
As he does every day, he seeks some less worked earth
to plant words into, hopes they will mature into
filler, grout, and spackle to patch up his wormwood.
Mostly they scatter on a dry wind
until night reclaims them.
It took some time, but
eventually the denim
(after much scrubbing)
of my workaday soul
cleaned-up as if stone washed.
Valuable lessons
were tucked into new pockets,
the clucking hens
of a nagging conscience
were at last silenced.
I’m spinning myself dry today,
hanging up my smoking guns.
Her face still riddles me through,
but I patch up just fine,
and know now how to zip her
out of my mind.
I can patch up an injury
Block the loss of blood
I can undergo surgery
I can erase the scars
But my mind’s wounds bleed forever
I may be in good shape
Stretching my body with ease
I may have flexi biceps
Every eye they may please
But my mind’s strength succeeds forever
I may feast at banquets
Pick the finest cuisines
Sway at a music fest
Have joyous recreation
But my mind’s hunger is feeds forever
You could fix up my shattered windows
Patch up the holes in the walls
Find a way to make the incessant creaking
Of the floorboards–hush
Make the faucets stop their aching
Drip…drip…drip…
New shingles
New doors
New cupboards and cabinets
Make my old bones feel new again–
What I really want
Is to be set ablaze
Ashes to ashes
All my flaws and failures
Gone with the strike of a match
Then and only then–
Pick up your hammer