Short Pawned Poems
Short Pawned Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Pawned by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Pawned by length and keyword.
Long and lonely days
lost by hope in quiet song
from sounds a silent heart has pawned
lay broken neath my endless thoughts of you...
I write for the diamonds,
all quartz to be damned
The populace deafened,
and jaded demand
That anything selfish,
their wills to be pawned
My jewels though not many
—sparkle beyond
(The New Room: February, 2021)
If only Autumn
could relent its teeth
like a furnace burning bright
it celebrates the dearth
of confidence
like friends lost at sea
It claims lost souls
spindle wood
you've pawned our tomorrows
and adjourned our yesterdays
You might be thinking
I still wear the gold chain you gave
I don't have it with me
Fifty odd years ago
I pawned it to repay my dues in the local pub
I pray you live one more lifetime
As my mother
I promise to be a good boy
This time around
Form:
Not so much
a lie
with little
truth to tell
Not so much
goodbye
with greetings
gone to hell
Not so much
romance
with feelings
dead or pawned
Not so much
to dream
with sleep
— bereft and gone
(Bryn Mawr College: May, 2025)
innocence pawned by youth
and paid by the ages
i knew love as she danced with her eyes closed
but memories dull
at the feet of time
longing to no longer care
as daytime spits forward
and nighttime takes the bows
and life erodes itself
from within
Mickey mouse strung out
China white
Oh my Minnie!
Zen
Yin
Yang
Thirty days in the hole
Tattooed dream
Scattered and covered
Ketchup and eggs
Alley blues
Toe rings and silver
Gold to be pawned
Living is just passing time
‘Time, time, time is on my side’
Innocent dreamer from the start
You pawned my bleeding heart
Titilating every brokered part
Raw beauty veiled by anesthetizing art
Melodic notes that time could not chart
Gainfully pierced each heart string with passion's dart
And o'er time lust's residual a lingering ague did impart
Always wanting more
Looking for the score
Wanting the reward
They will not be ignored
OxyContin is addictive
That's why it is restricted
Your problem's self inflicted
Get some help, get committed
Everything you owned you pawned
All you do is nod off and yawn
Then pace until the floor is gone
What an Oxy-moron
Keeping it new,
beginning again
clearing my eyes,
avoiding the din
Keeping it new,
the present untold
the past but a weight,
the future on hold
Keeping it new,
returning at last
to what never leaves,
and never contrasts
Keeping it new,
tomorrow on loan
yesterday pawned
—eternity owned
(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)
The former MVP pawned his very last ring
like the others, it had begun to sting
Bittersweet memories of his storied swing
that for a decade had made him King
He'd hit home runs in every park
high-arcing 'rainbows' his pet trademark
Now resting quietly in a subway dark
he rattles his cup, his rags pock-marked
A glimmer of hope flashes upon the horizon.
My mistake as the barbed wire plays a cruel trick,
audasity to think!
Reflection of a once happy childhood.
Now morphs into a migraine.
winter leaves now lay dorment in the gutter,
once the vouge.
kites crash and burn without wind,
the result of my deal with the devil pawned soul.
End.
punctured palm prophesied
wielding wanky wiles
amputated alazakam aroused
sassy spell sprouts
taunted tendrils tamed
rustic roots raved
Fumes! Felon fingers
turned faces' tinker
lanky leers linger
bounty body belched
savoring moment's mesh
fate's gloom fetched
tainted tiers trailed
fractured future's frail.
'20:04:26:18:32
Note: Of pawned picture.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Aspen is a place to squander.
Assess, take some time to ponder.
Absinthe causes minds to wander.
Aston Martin’s gone; I pawned her.
Accent hair to make you blonder.
Access ski slopes over yonder;
Ascend lifts on high like condors.
Accidents bring first responders.
Accept when it’s time to launder.
Absent money, home grows fonder.
Civil war :
Again you are visiting
the childhood.A green pond.
Smoke filled eyes ask, what
was a home ?
A black city of white hills.
You were climbing on dreams
to reach a baby moon.
And the night
was very long, like a bad name
you cannot spell.
The anthills, fireflies and
snakes. You are still lost
in cobwebbed age.
Pawned :
After books there were no other
tales.
Satish Verma
Could be Hastings Street,
or Lenox Avenue.
Could be 18th and Vine
And still be true.
Could be 5th and Mound,
Could be Rampart:
When you pawned my watch
You pawned my heart.
Could be you love me
Could be that you don't.
Might be that you'll come back
Like as not you won't.
Hastings Street is weary,
Also Lenox Avenue.
Any place is dreary
Without my watch and you.
I’m back from war without my soul,
having pawned it on the field
Among the dead and buried dreams,
whose futile prayers concealed
I wonder where my spirit hides,
as I sleep these endless hours
With day as night and night as day,
in loneliness devoured
My mind goes back to search the graves,
old enemies inside
And calls my name into the dark
—reclaiming every lie
(Dreamsleep: October, 2020)
Collective self-consciousness,
the well where I draw
old voices and struggles
lie deep in its craw
What’s shared but unstated,
reflexively pawned
to borrow ungiven
the right to what’s wrong
Collective self-consciousness,
polarity’s friend
unspoken meridian
between fact and pretend
To wait in the memory
of what’s yet to come
released by the moment
—humanity won
(The New Room: February, 2022)
Jesus had come
A sheep, His dog, and one friend
Pulling His cart, Hand on His goods
Owned nothing like was said He would
Returned a pauper
Not as a king
The gold crown
To Him meant not a thing
He pawned it
At the local store
Passed out bibles
To the lost and poor
Gazed at His star
On the walk of fame
The Mark was here
But there was no name
He was pleased it had turned out this way
Again on Calvary He would not have to pay
She pawned her ring
went into hock
Sold her long hair
went into shock
Took to the streets
with naught to eat
Just a smidgen of dope
and a cup of hope
Tried to beg
took in a few bucks
Injured her leg
cried, 'This really sucks'
Do you know this poor soul
She's rather pretty, not very old
A decent gal, she fell through the cracks
of a godless world, where the 'haves' talk smack
Noble men gone before
spoken of in written lore
all those souls that came and gone
liberty bought and freedom pawned
I wonder here in dark of night
who was wrong and who was right
is it any wonder how
we forget their names here and now
some names etched in stone and ink
just a few who stood on the brink
many still have yet to be seen
plucked from history books erased and preened
blood spilled stains the eye
and wrongs are wrought when good men die
Form:
In an age
Where souls are pawned
For fame and wealth
A time when
Good and evil
Cease to war
A period where
Men passed, and
Weaklings arose
A place which
Breaks my heart
yet fuels my limbs
A land whose
Stain I loathe
But name I bear
A people who
Curse the stench
Yet eat the feces
Here, I’m to call home
Home or desert?
My path is vast
So I call it home
But journey it is
I hope to sleep
And wake in a time
Where men are men.