Short Piazza Poems
Short Piazza Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Piazza by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Piazza by length and keyword.
Everywhere and nowhere
or a bit to the left
in the yellow bending of the fall.
Along the street of the lost
leaves which ever led us
to the Piazza Navona...
The dark star entered my eye
it and the song of a real cricket.
Busy piazza,
Amidst angry sun
And cacophonous sounds such as,
"pipipi peepee" and "bonanza! bonanza!!",
Calling all to answer,
Nagging market women,
Causing palaver.
Pedestrians roaming.
Every man to his own
Yet who knows who?
CHARLESMELODY
(Lightning Ink).
Some in Israel feel they’re quite grand
Only they can hear god’s command
They often recite
Commandments at night
Yet kill and steal Palestine's land
Palestinian piazza
Includes the West Bank and Gaza
Israel's ethnic purge
Might let these sites merge
At fine hotels like the Plaza!
Bathory, Bathory
Come take a bath with me
I hear it's a cure for asthma.
Bathory, Bathory
Please scrub my back for me
And do not pee in the plasma.
Bathory, Bathory
Take off your hat for me
Hang out with me on the piazza.
Bathory, Bathory
Lay down and nap with me
That might erase my miasma.
Some old wooden houses are deep,
they have columns and porticos,
piazza, loggia, gables, and cupola.
There rooms are arboreal
they knot. curl and jut outward
as the limbs of a still treeing houses.
Once in a house like this,
I recalled the broadleaf woods of my childhood,
a memory that rocked me gently
in its timbered embrace.
I came to know that depth of my life,
its internal architecture
one room grown from another -
the many mansions.
Sticky, humid, skin
Sweltering inferno blaze
Summer has no wind
The flies are dizzy
Joy hums from each piazza
Two views of day's rot
The hydrant founts glee
No rain promised in the sky
Water is respite here.
The tongue flakes songs
Lovers returned to the parks
Love sparks a new flame
Dreams burn in desire
The heart pants for new friendships
Pale male on his spire.
Summer has no wind
The city swelters without rain
And love blooms again.
A sculpture by Cellini*
Stands in Florence in a square.
Since 1554 you can find
Perseus still there.
He holds Medusa's head aloft
Triumphantly to show
All comers of his deed,
The head the proof they'd need to know.
Commissioned by a duke, Cellini
Worked for nine long years,
Resulting in a masterpiece
As great as it appears.
How magical to gaze at something
Made in ancient times.
No words can quite convey that feeling;
Neither can my rhymes.
*Benvenuto Cellini