Short Racked Poems
Short Racked Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Racked by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Racked by length and keyword.
If age is just an arbitrary number racked up in years,
then why does it bring so many...
to so much uncontrollable tears?
My itty bitty brother Billy
Was sometimes funny sometimes silly
Tried to stand on his head
But got racked up instead
So now he has to ice his willy
Write about “Any Poem” she said,
I racked and wrecked my poor head.
What form should I choose?
Oh PS, she’s not in my shoes,
So it’s best that I retire to bed.
There was this week a Supermoon
The sky lit by its color of burnt umber
I was eclipsed from this awesome sight
Racked and tired, I was in slumber.
written for contest: 10/1/15
A limerick obsession is my ball and chain
My body's all aching and racked with pain
Can quit anytime
So I mustn't whine
I'll be singing and laughing and be normal again
Eerie grinding sounds rise from my knees.
Heavy housework’s no longer a breeze.
Though I’ve seen better days,
I must give myself praise.
Parts of me aren’t yet racked by disease.
A limerick obsession is my ball and chain
My body's all aching and racked with pain
Can quit anytime
So I mustn't whine
I'll be singing and laughing and normal again
© Jack Ellison 2015
Impact On Brain No Longer Intact
After our brains had been racked and racked,
Again we would try to determine total impact;
Were shrewd;
Really rude;
We heard news and no longer remained intact.
Jim Horn
Didn't get around to writing a poem today
racked my brain, but can't think of a single word play
allowed too much other stuff to get in my way
with all that's on my heart, where's my communique?
now here I am, without a single rhyme to say! :O
Wrapped in bandages, I can hardly see.
But I know there's a world waiting for me.
I'm lucky to be alive; I know that as fact.
But for friends I've searched.
My mind, I've racked.
So I sit above my grave
listen to a dirge
and I wait
for a new life to emerge.
Absolutely anything - the best thematic shot,
What an opportunity to one entangled plot!
I racked my true detective brain,
All trains of thought ran overstrain,
Limerick that lacks a story substance all I got.
Contest: Absolutely Anything
Sponsor: Shreya LN
January 23, 2022
As my eyes dwindled on the first glimpse
helplessness racked a stifled heartbeat.
It was there I set my foundations,
my structure for a hope strong tower
that would shield you from fates cruel blows.
My love for you was evident,
it seen me through the darkest days.
You held my heart in them searching eyes.
Form:
Find me at six, lost hope, feel all at sea
without it, life has no depth, set me free
of memories, heart is racked with the pain
think all is lost, ne’er to touch again.
Wait, I think that you're near, hear my plea
when you’re ready, I am, please find me.
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 10 10
penned 17 January 2017
A Song is --
Not words on paper
or a tune from the lips
To reflect moments poignant
is never lickety-split
I've racked my brain
searched my soul
Still no results
and I'm getting old
It's time, I feel
to take a real chance
To knock on the door of my heart
and invite her to dance
When you hit life’s low
in deep confusion
of which it seemed no end,
I recall you thanking God
for one’s family also I
your grandson a very good friend.
Whilst your body racked with pain
torment you could not hide
an instance of loving charms,
when from your heart
a welcome sincere
within ever open arms.
© Harry J Horsman 2010
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Autumn whispers, leaves descend in sighs,
Cracked cups of oak, a harvest left behind.
Ochre hued landscapes, hope buried in the ground.
Remnants of summer, a fractured fading.
Nature's bounty, now scattered on the breeze,
Silent promise, of what is yet to be.
Minds on fire
bodies racked with pain
Eyes bleary
Every day it seems
that the great checkerboard
of day and night
has us in its grip
Where do we come from?
Where are we going?
These questions fill the air
It seems that we are on a treadmill
Like Sisyphus
we face frustration
But we can change
the path we are on
if we play our cards right
a slow loris has a deadly trick
she takes her time, she’s sneaky and slick
venom is held in her elbow daily
Let’s pretend she is angry with my cousin Bailey.
The slow loris mixes venom with her saliva in the yard
then bites Bailey with her sharp teeth, good and hard
could he die? Oh, yes, that is the slow loris’ goal
She has already racked up a decent death toll.
I chanced to walk amongst the roses
and saw reflections within my heart
ghosts of hidden entities that
were so much a part of me-
Lost in sacred illusion
and crying within my soul
thorns that racked my being
deliverance from the eternal whole-
Sunlight within my refuge
sheltered beyond the morning dew
rivers etched in scattered time
bespeaks of love forever true-
This time of year is significant
For what Lent represents
But I have racked my brains
And don’t know what to give up for lent
I really don’t know what to give up
I don’t have a sweet tooth
And I neither smoke nor drink
No vices at all and that’s the truth
So despite its significance
For what Lent represents
I have come to the conclusion
It’s easier just to give up lent
Form:
The clown in him thought, 'It's Limerick Time!'
Couldn't come up with a single darn line --
Poor guy racked his brain
Went nearly insane --
Saw that the second darn line didn't rhyme
He decided to write him a sonnet
Texted Shakespeare for free advice on it --
Willy didn't text back
Our friend thought, 'What a hack' --
Have to place a bee in the Bard's bonnet
I don't want the rags to riches
I don't want a brand new car
and you can have the cozy comforts
I don't need them by far
I'll trade my earthly treasures
for the streets of solid gold
God will take this broken body
worn and torn as it grows old
I don't want the daily living
with my body racked with pain
but I'll take my Father's promise
cause I'll have so much more to gain...
The old red barn once stood proud
Against the storm, paying
Its own way with the Mail Pouch
Sign, brimming with hay
It staved winter's starving chill
A vanguard of stubborn will.
But now the storms have racked
The bones and flailed the bloody flesh
Torn away the shingles and
Raked across the giant yellow letters,
Letting in the cold and bitter air
Left the rubble for the vacant stare.
I wandered round my dome
unable to get my pen down
I looked in the sky
It was clouded to my sight
I racked my brain
It was busy snoring
I looked at my side
but saw nobody
not even my shadow
my mind was silent like the dead of the night
my ears were deaf to my snorting
I forced my lead down but got stand still
I decided to write out of nothing
for the mood of a poet brings out creativity.
Form:
Angels won’t fly
and often cry
when mortal love
is felt above.
It hurts inside
to be denied
racked with the pain
sad hearts contain.
As teardrops grow
and feelings show,
a slow-burn flame
elicits shame.
Love is so near
they shed a tear
and weeping eyes
wet cloudy skies.
Droplets of rain
fuel their pain
until sunlight
restores their flight.
(Rhyme)
3/19/2015