Short Ravenously Poems
Short Ravenously Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Ravenously by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Ravenously by length and keyword.
Dark,
ravenously ruled the rocky cave for many hundred years
fearfully fled to the firmament when a little lamp brought
Light
Honorable Mention in STRAND CHOICE Z,any form,any theme Poetry Contest sponsored by Brian Strand
This is America.
We kill everybody equally.
So do the Neo Soviets.
So do the English.
So do the Chinese.
So do the Muslim extremists.
So do the...
On and no it goes.
A meat grinder of death.
More fresh kills are needed.
Feed the death machine.
It's ravenously hungry...
I sneak and slither in the darkness
I steal, lie, and waste
I ravenously eat the candy
It's the rush not the taste
I live for the high
Yet feel nothing but low
I'd pretend to be alive
but why put on a show
For your enjoyment here is the liar
Here is the lowliest of thieves
Here is what they tell you not to be
Only through deception he achieves
Perfect Playmate
puny pink primrose
pursuing phantom pleasure
pecking playful puff
Quitter
queasy queen questions
quirky quail's quivery quacks -
quill quietly quit
Ride
rain rake rattling raft
river roared ravenously -
rider relished ride
First Place in STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (10) any theme any form Poetry Contest sponsored by Brain Strand
Being as wild as wild comes,
he came and Tucked his
weary head INTO MY BED!
My, what fun we had.
with his popsicle,
we ate ravenously.
was it real or was it in fun?
I had, yet to find out!
What would he do
if he only knew,
what his love meant?
True or False, we felt!
I constrict and recoil from the bitterly cold wind
The sun so bright it hurts through the clear sky
Soft melancholy music bounces from the perfect acoustics
And I drink my despair ravenously as I cry
My winter's pain is almost too much today
Profound sadness shoves me violently,
tearing my old sweater
scuffing my worn shoes
I mutter some passive nonsense to myself
Hoping tomorrow it will all go away
Hoping tomorrow I'll find someone besides
me to accuse
"Lingering leaves of gold
frolic in the autumn wind,"
Swept up by bygone breezes,
already collapsing
before they begin,
As disillusionment clouds an overtired soul—
Misplaced and irretrievable
To a society that ravenously
disembowels empathy,
Twists and mangles trust
until it becomes unrecognizably disfigured,
Leaving the carcass to be plucked by bone-thin vultures,
Fed by culture’s apathetic, parasitic narcissism,
Under the boiling, pre-winter sun.