Short Rapidity Poems

Short Rapidity Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Rapidity by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Rapidity by length and keyword.

Nette Onclaud, Rolling with the R’s, 8/4/2025

Rhythm of a River

rambling
   funny waters,
      downward rapidity
         of laughter on white water raft.
unintended coxswain gets rogue-wave kissed.
         guides directing, this way and that,
      up and down; rowers with
   coarse correction,
rambling.

© Kim Rodrigues  

With vision diffuse and fragile frame, 
  These, the twilight years commence, 
Yet arms to hold each other close 
  Seem no less fierce, less intense. 

What smacked of callow rapidity, 
  The rush of youth and virgin bud, 
Is mellowed, matured throughout the span 
  Of decades steeping in the blood. 

The two of us in sunset swathe, 
  As now, these twilight years enfold, 
Together we endure and sense 
  The perfect love in growing old.

© Tony Bush  

too often i have ignored all that is right
which has caused me to miss out on my true and actual plight

alone i am now and one with webs and the dust
chapped and ashy i have become well on my way to rust

my mother once told me to loosen the noose of my shield
to late now do i see the world and the decorative grounds and fields

now i am an insomniac driven by a wayfaring loner's rage
i only have myself to blame for the rapidity in which i now age....

© Marty King  

My heart's hinged door forcefully burst
But the instant coffee I owned was decaf!
My eyes died, parched of thurst,
My tearless decision was just to laugh.

These beatings last forever,
But I find your love is pain.
Drag me up the stairs; together...
Black eyed me, bruised with you again.

Hobbling always, resilient is me.
Keeping each beat with heartfelt rapidity.
Time never winds down, failing to free me.
So blowing blood out my nose~ I'm endless stupidity!


PTDM

© Marcela Proust  

mother turns her head to 
see her son’s hair in the 
light shining above the
breakfast table all laid out &
spots a gray---
the dark brown hair once flailing
behind the drumset in the 
garage
during the teenage years,
has begun to go away &
it makes her feel older than she
is herself,
having earned her grays raising 
him,
having watched her own youth
fade away &
now seeing her son’s 
disappear with the years,
the overwhelming rapidity
(and ultimate demise)
of a human life 
swells within her.

© Andrew Delapruch