Short Pitting Poems
Short Pitting Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Pitting by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Pitting by length and keyword.
When the veracity is really sparse,
the world affairs are left on the backburner.
Pitting a status dog against an orange poodle
(the latter dropped his noodle a long time ago)
there is no honour in winning the debate
in this farce we rate a mere pie-in-the-sky.
What talks
in
a
plankton’s
wriggle?
Weaving unseen
whirlpools,
pitting puddles
(soaked, a mellow,
afternoon shine)-
lashing and
curling
like
a sleek
blade,
cutting into
rotten green ,
perhaps,
blowing
a bugle-
like
a shriek
lost
in
the chasm.
young fearless daredevil surfers appear at costa de prata in the winter
pitting their skills against the colossal waves that break off Praia do Norte
confident they will be the one who survives, they are invincible right?
I stand on this beach, clutching my heart and my throat, danger aware.
cheerful with cherries
sending the pits
scurrying into a bag
passionate red
sweet juice
like love’s nectar
round gems, plump.
their vacuous space
hide Cupid’s arrows
oh joy of each bite
blissful prayer
better than candy
pitting takes work
yes marriage too
worth it - mais oui!*
7/4/2018
*but, yes
Oh to be sailing over the sea,
hull down, with the shore on the lee.
Hearing the sound of water dashing past the hull,
and the mournful cry of a ravenous gull.
Pitting ones skills against natures wiles,
not another soul in sight, for miles, and miles.
Then come the end of the day,
dropping anchor in a small secluded bay.
Relaxing in the cockpit, supping a drink,
watching the sun, as below the horizon it doth slowly sink.
Oh to be sailing over the sea,
hull down, with the shore on the lee.
Hearing the sound of water dashing past the hull,
and the mournful cry of a ravenous gull.
Pitting ones skills against natures wiles,
not another soul in sight, for miles, and miles.
Then come the end of the day,
dropping anchor in a small secluded bay.
Relaxing in the cockpit, supping a drink,
watching the sun, as below the horizon it doth slowly sink.
i’ve been s-coffing quite a lot lately ~ i think perhaps i’ve got a s-cold
said menippean to the rhymester ~ s-pitting out helios as he s-trolled
—————————————
a fair straightforward non rotating ~ syllable counted monoku
#. #. #
even the maggots are important ~ grow wings and persevere with life
By
David Kavanagh
Based on painting by Bev Doolittle: Woodland Encounter
American West in Camouflage
Two Indians* hide, in the birch forest,
and ride their pintos, hooves pitting the snow.
Conspicuous - red fox in clearing - sights
quiet stride of hide and seek…trenchant ears
at peak performance in centralized cope
…sentient sentinel highlights canvas.
3/28/2022
Bite Size Poem #41
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
*Native Americans
I meet with three faces
that come in the night
In dreams that preplace,
masks of darkness and light
Their voices once spoken,
remain in my head
Until words are then written,
pitting joy against dread
These triplets were born
in a harrowing storm
Only quieting down,
if new offspring are born
And then able to sleep,
once each orphan is named
Their breath I still feel,
—in the twilight reclaimed
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2014)
Obsession
Oh to feel the wind in my face,
hearing the sea, as past the hull it doth race.
Being hull down, at thirty degrees,
heading for a distant port, under a favorable breeze.
Pitting ones skills, against natures wiles,
being in front of the fleet, by a couple of miles.
Taking the family out, for a picnic in the bay,
teaching the grandkids, how to sail, and play.
For me my boat, she is my favorite possession,
Yes sailing, you can say, it is my obsession.
Tango .