Short Perused Poems

Primped, pampered pug Priscilla perused pate portion perfunctorily piqued





10/23/19...

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perchance perused
poetry personified...
perfectly portrayed


Penned 8 May 2016...

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Shattered dreams and broken promises
Are all I have to show for my life
What I once perused with great ambition  
I now survive by strife....

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J-ust read the verse, 
C-heck if it is clear, 
S-hould I turn on the light? 

Topic: Birthday of Jocelyn C. Suguitan (March 24) 
Form: Acrostic Questionku 
Photo: Dreamstime...

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Deep night- 
In its quiver,
I write.

Perused-
Subconscious yields, 
True muse

Child’s Zen
Speaking softly…
From when.


David Mohn
WHISPERS OF A MUSE - Poetry Contest
24 Nov 2014...

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Perused all the new poems up for today
There are some stunners I really must say
But then there are some
That are really quite bum
Mine's not much better, but I still want to play
...

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Penelope prayerfully poked and pondered in search of a new word play.
She wanted it wrapped with winking words to welcome in her day.
The dark and dusty dictionary danced mocking her as it swayed..
Penelope perused and pecked it's pages and penned a poem that way....

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the beauty
     of line
poised,passive
    silent,
             perused:
a surface
       beyond
thought and
  craft,
     ideas,
circle life:
vocation illumes
the essential,
enlivens
enriches
       labour
with
a 
symmetry
to preserve
       pride
once again...

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I torture myself
Your page on speed dial
If speed dial were still 
A thing
Lol

Her page more perused
Stroked, if you will
Than even yours
I hate her face
Again
And again
Smdh

Refresh

Still nothing
Must be something
No one takes pictures of
Omg

K
Ttyl
Brb

Screw Facebook...

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I am reading my eyes in a library mirror.
I had perused a yellow book:
‘Astronomy for Dummies'.
There is a question mark behind planet X,
and the sun seems to be returning to cosmic sperm.
Jupiter has shrunk to the size of a copper penny.
Of course it’s hard to judge size in a public library mirror
that needs cleaning....

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'Twas the Perpetually-Missing Soup Poets case,
With Homes and Whatsup hot on the chase. 

Poets leaving was not breaking news,
So they slowly perused the usual clues.

Dr. Whatsup said, "Why do they go?"
Homes replied, "You mean you don't you know?"

"Though they tend to blame some bully's voice,
Poets disappear because they make a choice!"...

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Gray evening's like gray dawn's ties thicken
At the exact same pacing expanse—
Both briefly hold the sun's motions in
Pallor moored with unmistakableness.
I am shaken by her warrior crest,
For I more than feel gray's breaking touch;
Though not cutting paths perused in lust,
But being where gentle pigeons send—
For gray evenings like gray dawns there must
Be a soft kindred line between them....

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Cell phones not quite silenced; 
Playbills get perused.
Bathroom needs attended to;
Latecomers excused.

Cough drops start unwrapping;
Jackets drape on laps.
Hands relax anticipating
Lots of fervent claps.

Watches are consulted;
Ushers stroll the aisles.
Tourists glance around to note
The New York City styles.

Lights at last are dimming;
Conversations cease.
Finally, it’s time to let
The actors say their piece....

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Poetry is whatever is in your heart and mind at the 
time the writing tool of emotion scrolls the paper.
   Creating imprints of permanence that maybe perused 
visually, or by perception of auditory.
   Allowing for the absorption of another's very being.
Conjoining mental galaxies, surfing the milky way of
creativity.
   To the shores of the author's imagination.
Sharing the same thoughts and interpretations, if only
for a moment....

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I’m staring at my notebook
Whose pages I’ve perused
To double-check a topic;
My muse is quite bemused.

For lately I’ve been empty
Where always I’ve enthused.
I don’t know why poetic themes
Have slowed and barely oozed.

My confidence is sagging;
My ego’s slightly bruised.
I need a jolt of energy 
To somehow be infused.

But meanwhile as I struggle,
Where once I blithely cruised,
My muse just sits there mocking
And I’m really not amused....

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Listen to poem:

Colourful meadow on summer day
Blue cornflowers vie with wild primrose
Perfect poppies with elegant sway
Peaceful place where beauty grows.

Artist ponders this habitat
Colours perused with critical eye
Contentment under wide-brimmed hat
Silent he paints with blissful sigh.

Meadow shimmering under sun
Aromatic perfume does beguile
Canvas reflects what nature has done
Sable brush paused for short while.


Pixabay image: Karsten Bergmann...

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YUCK

I know we are supposed to love them
all creatures great and small

I know God had a reason
when he created those that crawl

even those that creep and flit
are part of a master plan

filling every earthly niche
in air, in water, on land

but Lord in your mighty scheme
please tell me in what mood

as you perused your work
and saw that it was good

inspected every nook and cranny
touched every leaf and twig

prompted you without a glance
to invent the pesky earwig....

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