Short Prescribes Poems
Short Prescribes Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Prescribes by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Prescribes by length and keyword.
I have a doctor named Bill
I visit when feeling ill
He prescribes lotions
Copious pills and potions
That made me feel worse still
Doc, can you please help me!?
My love is back and lately
My hearts been so crazy!!
She just amazes me!
Doc please what's wrong with me!?
Is the cure my baby?!
This "Love" never phased me!!
and now she prescribes me,
with my cure for love...
Rose
Just got the “bum's rush”, hoping for some direction
From this so-called specialist when it comes to treating depression
Five minutes listening to his fancy swill
Prescribes a different “magic” pill
Collected his huge fee and ushered in the next in succession
How deep is our stillness
Is it yet still in the void of no-thingness
This practice prescribes
That as bliss continues to rise
Let it be in the void of emptiness
Energised by Gods lovingness
Thought rested we hold our attention
Within the void as our meditation
12-September-2020
A virtuous man stands tall, far ahead,
Preaches mercy, yet calls heretics dead,
Speaks of hell, if he had seen,
Prescribes salvation and condemns unclean,
He sings of heaven till his last breath,
Then why, priest do you fear that death?
An infidel knows no rules, the trouble begins,
How can a priest keep him from sins?
Does this make him boundless, free to appease?
Or does the priest sin more than he dares to please?
See through the veil
Where truth abides,
See the grand scale
Where joy prescribes.
Look deeper still
For you will see,
Look to a will
Where all can be.
Sight follows light
In certain feel,
Sight compels flight
To nurture will.
Know that you know
Much more right now,
Know a deep flow
That streams endow.
Live with sure poise
As finesse grows,
Live steady voice
Where plenty flows.
Leon Enriquez
31 May 2015
Singapore
Memory plays ‘hide-and-seek’.
Mind is a sorry seeker in this game.
A doctor prescribes to cure ‘the void’.
It’s a learned hypocrisy.
Words clash one another on Mrs.Pathu’s
tongue and fall down meaninglessly.
Infancy is reborn in the wet
shade of her Alzheimer’s.
Memory sets in her present
and rises in her past.
Intermittently falling beams
glare in her eyes.
She bobs up and down like the jetsam
on the waves.
Now, life announces
its retrieval in doleful tones.
Hand in hand they stand
On the edge of tomorrow
Leaving the baggages behind
Buried in a heap of broken dreams
Interrupted aspirations
That kept them chained captives
Disengaging the doubts and fears
Exploring new horizons
Hand in hand they stand
Forging a genuine friendship
Released by the magic of time
In whose keeping lies the key
That opens and shuts all doors
Answering only to its guardian
Who prescribes the course of men
Fulfilling his plans throughout the ages