Short Rattle On Poems
Short Rattle On Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Rattle On by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Rattle On by length and keyword.
How blissful natures pause reigns
the vibratory hum greedily gleaned
Cicadas buzz call transport
the soft rustle of maples branches sport
The three-part tune “whip poor will”
The acorns rattle on the window sill
All of natures silent prizes
Bring joy and wonder in silent guises.
standing
playing a part
apart at the party
out of water
fish swim together
forgot that
there are no balloons
just arty talk
the occasional sing
at blue collar america
elbows sharpened
at the bloodless buffet
diamond rings rattle on wine glasses
ice cubes click teeth
talking into wineglasses
bowties circle – cackle
elsewhere
babysitters watching
as i am
standing
playing a part
apart at the party
out of water
fish swim together
forgot that
there are no balloons
just arty talk
the occasional sing
at blue collar america
elbows sharpened
at the bloodless buffet
diamond rings rattle on wine glasses
ice cubes click teeth
talking into wineglasses
bowties circle – cackle
elsewhere
babysitters watching
as i do
“Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.”
Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Waiting for the dentist’s assessment of my implant screw.
I watch Dogwood buds on dry branches rattle on the window pane.
Why did Shakespeare’s quote pop into my head right then?
while wondering if the bone graft grew,
‘every fair from fair sometime declines.’
I scratch symbols out of a matted beard.
Fingertips as smooth as wave-worn pebbles
rattle on an invisible shoreline,
the sound is a kind of speech
a language that only spume and spray understand.
Seven days a week I listen;
rarely does the water translate
any intelligible meaning.
Nevertheless images rise
like dead half-eaten fish.
I pick at the bones and wish
for more impossible things.
Clear crystals eat iron voices.
The wind dies; its bones rattle on.
A stealing wind moves many loose tongues, but where?
"Where' is not the question but a movement,
a rapport pealing from somewhere.
When wind is silent, wind chimes listen.
Speech goes deaf when the wind rings.
A snow laden sky sings under our feet.
Icicles chime in the sunlight.
Tinkling is the light.
Nancy Jones,
on ya babe yer twice as good,
a mate for sure who understood,
me madness.
Death can come when eer it wants,
i'll spring about n ponce,
with just a little sadness...
see you on the other side,
when death does take me for a bride,
i wanna be the bridegroom...
i'll rattle on, can't find a tune,
sidestep dodge the bloody moon,
johnson's locked away 4 badness?
addled with some gladness...
The harbingers of spring are long forgotten
now rise the specters of summer's end
and the fodder of the misbegotten
call forth spirits of the psyche to ascend.
Come skeletal images and visionary scarecrows
creep along the evening shadows
hiding in the pale moonlight glow
bringing the macabre wherever it goes.
The crimson orange, the blood red rose,
the blackened corpse, screeching tones
rattle on with each step taken and posed
bring on the costume halloweenie crossbones.