Short Petrifying Poems
Short Petrifying Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Petrifying by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Petrifying by length and keyword.
Changes are one of
The things that are real in life
Flow with the events
If you stay inflexible
Petrifying would reach you
dread, rising up while all hope is dying
safety and surety of joy, a soul ignores,
apprehensive, worried, insecurity’s complying
pouring out tension from deathly doors,
bleeding heart whose shadow is petrifying
It's cold
It's dark
It's lonely
It's petrifying
Being alive I mean
Everything would be so much easier if I was just dead
Maybe one day
Maybe sometime
Maybe soon
I don't want this anymore
I'm weak
Oh so weak
And I don't know how much longer I can do this on my own
I mean there's nobody else
So why not....
Form:
Truth bubbling forth as from a mountain spring.
A gem set in gold resting on purple velvet,
“Better a smooth step than a smooth tongue.”
He rotates his posterior to the world,
While his eyes are transfixed upon its reflection,
Body impacts a light pole without anticipation.
Mouth pontificating.
Heart petrifying.
Soul putrefying.
Petrifying prediction proffered.
Abhorrent abominations
and shapeless shadows stalk streets.
Perpetually pitch
as Luna's light lapsed.
Prostrate and pray:
Stygian
nightmare
roused.
------------------------------
28th April 2017
For the "Form N - Ninette or Nonet" contest, sponsored by Broken Wings.
(Eighth Place)
Winds of my existence
seeking an unknown
destination,
petrifying the sailors,
going tainted by
the seas,
hollowing the sands,
disdained by
the pricks,
wrestling with the leaves
in shallow might,
echoing the tales
of immoral pride,
O'Lord,
I seek the direction
of your sin-free
wisdom,
You my only refuge...
my only conviction!
In a stolen moment
of solitude I sit
at the base of my
bookshelf and
surrender to swirling
synaptic symphonies of
Solzhenitsyn
In yet another
purloined pause
I pensively peruse
Poe’s pedantically
petrifying ponderings
I desperately desire
a day to dutifully
devour Dickinson’s
dreamy dirges
Alas
my children call
and I must leave
my literary wonderland
all is not lost
for bedtime is near
and Dr. Seuss awaits
What a tremendous thing
We publicize our own thoughts
Phrases with Sorrowful voices
Urge of existing readers
Rubbing my bared face with sludge
Hopeless dark fantasies
Petrifying my self esteem
Glorious mysteries defaults
Glasses with wine ,holding upto the stairs
Viewed with blushful ideas
Strengthen my scars with awards
Drown my leg in summer hot springs
Oh what a tremendous things
With awful signatures
Praising our despairs