Short Prods Poems
Short Prods Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Prods by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Prods by length and keyword.
new star within ...prods me to rekindle heart's gift of compassion
12/30/2918
New Year One Liner Contest of Silent One
Categories:
prods, care, new year,
Form:
Monoku
Soon the curious swelled to a mob.
as they gathered to gape at the glob.
Someone prods with a stick.
as another screams: " Quick!"
"We must run for our lives! It's the Blob!"
Categories:
prods, fantasy, funny, parody, science fiction
Form:
Limerick
The tomcat squeal of a deceiving tongue.
We are scolded
with cattle-prods of sound.
Swung upon chains of echoes,
nailed to aria’s with rusty spikes.
Bird of a thousand jeers,
a hundred memes and parodies.
will you shut up already.
Categories:
prods, poetry,
Form:
Blank verse
And in that darkness
when i am blind
with what i can't forget
the shivering cold prods
at the numb
with ill effect
lies give the darkness substantiate
carnivorous hunger
fed on crumbling memory
truth slips its sabres edge
in lies unmovable
Categories:
prods, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Eyes stitch together feather-light words,
search the blank paper for meaning.
Mind prods a metaphor until it speaks -
it is how a blind man reads light.
My partner looks up
from the mute printed ink
“It’s one of your best.”
“Thanks honey,” I say
wishing I had tried a whole lot harder.
Categories:
prods, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Let her go we urge our cousin
but he is enthralled, entranced,
totally gaga crazy about her
She calls him names
She puts him down
She makes fun of him
She teases him
She threatens him
She pokes and prods him
She irritates him to the edge of the grand canyon
And yet, there he goes,
Chasing her like a show pony
Categories:
prods, 10th grade, 11th grade, 12th grade, 9th
Form:
Free verse
Categories:
prods, celebration, happiness,
Form:
Free verse
from a challenge to use a random set
of unconnected words in a poem)
The syncopated rhythms of my
infatuation with you have left
an indelible mark
on my metrical heart.
I am M'Adam to your "Y'ves,"
biting into the luscious apple of temptation,
while Lust, with his pitchfork,
prods us from behind.
Categories:
prods, crazy, fantasy, funny, humorous, imagery, nonsense, word
Form:
Verse
As fruit sprouts from mangled trees
fighting to survive disease
new prods must tremble the knees
since cheated serfs deserve less
coddling strokes to stoke sickness,
new stress must press for distress
pumping 50,000 watts
into people casting lots
braving to stave social rots
while scrambling the strong of mind
and binding us all behind
fearful compliance maligned.
Categories:
prods, political
Form:
Rhyme
THANK YOU
for
my
LONELINESS
that
SETS me out to many lanes
and
PRODS my mind to search on
that
EXTENDS my being to others
and
EXPANDS my heart to believe.
THANK YOU
for
this LONELINESS
that
WOUNDS my heart again and again
and
FORCES a reckoning of my emptiness
that
MIRRORS my raw loveliness
and
DRAWS YOU TO FILL THE VOID
when
piled
on
sand
my
LONELINESS.
Categories:
prods, growth, loneliness, pain, self,
Form:
Free verse
Small red circles,
yellow and white,
wired am I.
With every pulse
my calves dance
with my toes;
shins tense.
Next part:
"Nod when yes
blink when no.
You feel this?" Blink
"And this?" Blink
"Or this?" Blink
"You don't feel much, do you?"
Blink
Prods and probes
in blissfull numbness.
***
October 04, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Categories:
prods, betrayal, body,
Form:
Free verse
Flipped upside down.
Shaken as if inside a snowglobe.
Caught napping.
Cruel fate has snuck upon me, and lashed out with the force of thunder.
Feeling as if discarded.
Rubbish of yesterday.
Approaching a crossroad that is distorted.
Going not right or left, but rather up and down.
Up to hope.
Down to dispair.
I'm compelled distally, like insect to flame.
Wisdom prods me.
I simply move forward.
Categories:
prods, confusion,
Form:
I do not know?
She lingers waiting for me to make a mistake.
I feel her, sneering at me, ready to pounce.
Unsure how she originated, but I keep her masked.
Cover her up with a brilliant smile,
Being Robin William funny, so no one knows
Except me….
She goads me with pokes and prods
Trying to get me morose and sad.
I am aware of her power
I dare not give in to her.
She can take me down harder than a Mack Truck
Categories:
prods, depression,
Form:
Personification
My past glimmers.
Like spikes of metal, bent by hammers.
My crooked past prods me into the present.
So I may forget those that I used to resent.
I remember my family’s last smiles.
I would see them again, but not for a while.
I thought I would become a monstrous memory of theirs.
I try to hold onto them by a hair.
That is cut by shards of reality.
As I lose all sense of causality.
Categories:
prods, mental illness,
Form:
Rhyme
COPLA CINCUENTA Y SEIS: This Bad Guy World
When in need don’t do just anything
Short cut to humiliation:
Need feeds on need
Violence is the need of being
Big Bang is the need for motion:
Need to be freed
When the impulse to commit goads
Pull yourself together step aside:
Pleasure passes
What insatiable primal need prods
The Almighty to make gods stride:
Boredom pulses
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Categories:
prods, allegory, conflict,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Mind in the fetal position contemplating
Rosicrucian Cosmo Conception-Theory
seen on the back of a crackerjacks box
with no prize inside.
all they offered was to arrange
a meeting of the minds
so i went,
and you stayed back with Thomas.
So there i stood, lying down,
asleep, counting sheep,
that were wide awake.
Belly buttons of giants
full of lint-
traps snaring, finger prods
along the shores of the mind.
Categories:
prods, confusion, history, mystery, philosophy
Form:
Free verse
paring down
old age
called it in
I didn’t choose
this stage
of paring down
like or not
outgrown roles
are slipping off
like oiled coats
shed rain
it feels respectful
rehearsal
for what’s coming
when every earthly
trait is freed—
so I let posts go
and watch them
fall
to someone new
clearing a place
for what remains,
the work that prods
me now
this work
wants space,
breadth and depth
to dive—
I must comply
Categories:
prods, age, silence, space,
Form:
Free verse
Crofts of humble
mute to grumble
What prods a heart to seek succor?
Fall to tumble
mind a’jumble
spayed fingers join to clasp in prayer.
Flipped to sober
fearless warrior
What tools to fight off plights of fear?
High to lower
wise the warrior
Gains strength and force in quiet’s calm.
Thank you Karen O'Leary...I'll send you
a picture of 'Flip', when I can get back into
Illustrator.:) You're a gentle and kind lady,
and very inspirational!!
Categories:
prods, introspection,
Form:
Verse
Monetize my word,
Or else its point is dull,
And pokes me, prods me ever toward,
A push without a pull.
Monetize my action,
I ought to spare it of the aught,
To feign the law's ideal attraction,
And idle sold when never bought.
Monetize my thought,
Then I'd be less inclined,
To sip from potions brewed in plot,
To mute my muzzled mind.
Monetize my being,
Perhaps then I'll have a chance,
Of freedom found in guaranteeing,
I've fled my fear of song and dance.
Categories:
prods, addiction, america, business, money, poverty, society, success,
Form:
Rhyme
UNWILLING SUNDOWN
homeless sun
nuzzles unfriendly seas
dazzles gold
ruffled cloud
bully with thunder bolts
prods sun down
Categories:
prods, nature,
Form:
Haiku
Flat on my back
as the world sits on my chest
wearing his mustache among hawaiian islands
and I'm not breathing
a heavy finger prods my cheek
"you are SAD" through gapping teeth
and I obey
and I am shameless
and I surrender
like a woman in colorless film
i am fatefully tied to train tracks
come one, come all
come run me over
for no one can tell
i can't get up myself
my knees have caved in
my blood is not flowing
my light is fading
and fate takes hold.
Categories:
prods, introspection, sad
Form:
I do not know?
Listen to poem:
To float on the sea
is a delight for me.
To be rocked by waves that
urges, surges and mummers
a welcome aboard from the sea,
is giddy gosh, gleeful to me.
The prods, prompts, jostles and
pulses of the waves that caress
my body or vessel's hull
is like masseur's touch -
comforting, warming, healing and relieving me.
For water is the matrix, mater
and milieu that comforts me
in its arms, supporting me
to float so effortlessly,
gracefully, weightlessly
in free-form bliss.
Categories:
prods, sea,
Form:
Free verse