Short Pressuring Poems

Flow
A mass of unrefined substance
Trickling over ancient grounds
Touching softly
Yet pressuring firmly
A bright, white surge
Upon a dreary backdrop 
That is what you are
And that is all you’ll ever
Be...

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I really worked so hard
pressuring my brain
trying to find the words
it would take 
although in vein 
But even at my best
I can only score a nine
But, those who came in tenth
make my placement look divine...

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Keeping—the Syllable Count
Knowing—How to Rhyme
This – is—What keeps is a—Sonnet
Annoying – Iambic—Line

Constantly – Chiming—and Gushing
Blowing—in Merciless – Gusts
And Yet—Still always reminding
Attend to it—While it lasts

Stemming from – Nature’s Rebellion
Or – Simply—Pressuring Air
Or If it’s Heaven—is Gentle
Just Quietly—Whispering There

Flying and Swimming—in Space
Gliding—with the – Utmost Grace...

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I remember red curtains
and red, round 
Loony Tunes logo.

Red couch and armchairs.

Beets on my plate
and two dark butterflies
nestled in the corner of the room.

How excited and scared I was
when I though they were a bat.

Balcony door got open,
the curtains moved
and they flew away.

I remember red spots
on their fluttering wings.

Yet, somehow Sunday
is still a yellow day.

Boring,
depressing,
pressuring....

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