Short Recoiling Poems
Short Recoiling Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Recoiling by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Recoiling by length and keyword.
Holes in both shirt and shorts
Another man of fancy sorts
Not like any other hanger
Gesturing with his left finger
Enemies recoiling in fear
Realizing their end is near.
All books can drain earthen's faith; getting hook in just knowledege. Learning must not oppress principles' quest, recoiling set times under vulnerable wealths. X-ray Your zeal!
brrk brrk brrk
buc buc buc burk
nice chicken,
buc buc buc
brk brK BURKuRK
Mean CHICKEN!
The littles pet my mouth
as I say the brrks
Recoiling with delight
when mean chicken
gives them fright.
In a cobalt sky,
Embellished with pallid clouds:
Leaden geese fly home.
·
Migration arrow,
Sadly fades before my sight:
Recoiling farewells.
·
The smell of old rain,
A pale past dwells in my soul:
Cycles of my life.
______________
For Brian's Intervals Contest
by R. Ellis
Blue falls on the river
tonight falling and recoiling
in a splashing wave of stars
like frozen rain.
I miss the most of you that
I know which is a little piece
of something small but powerful
No burning flames no one the
sames just the now of I love you.
.
Liar’s Poker
Hot
damn!
She lied
to my face
grinning at my pain,
rejoicing as the tables turned.
Recoiling as the fists of betrayal pounded me
chest aching in feigned retreat protecting the heart that I knew had also been lying.
3/9/2015
submitted to – Fibonacci – Poetry contest
sponsor – Rob Carmack
Anger
On the surface, eyes closed, hands shaking
Paralyzing, soaking through my pores
Deep inside, welling within me
A rising mushroom cloud of bubbling acid
I feel it coming, but by then it’s to late
A self justified burst of atomic energy
Sweet release, hits like a runaway train
Everyone around me recoiling in fear
Form:
People walk in and out,
Through me, it seems,
My presence barely sensed.
I coil around the pain,
And recoiling I make my way out,
Heaving relief into the dark.
Around me, night crawls about like a baby,
The moon, with arms outstretched,
Cradles me gently, lovingly.
And feeling a large crack in the universe
I am swallowed whole
And taken home.
What is this that I've become?
I've seen myself becoming numb.
Emotions then, but none here now,
Insanity's what emotions sow.
I now can see but can I comprehend?
My soul has left, best wishes send
"Help me, please," I call to me,
but I'm nowhere in sight I see.
I gaze into the mirror,
and in my eyes I see,
recoiling in horror,
I've left humanity.
Form:
I know I have a big heart
Because I can feel how often it cracks.
It's fragile like glass,
But bounces back,
Broken, then fixed,
Then broken, then fixed,
Recoiling like elastic
And snapping back into place.
But elastic gets weak,
And eventually, wears out.
Glass, though constantly breaking,
Can be sealed back together.
I hope I am like glass
And not like elastic.
His mind a silent sentinel
Ever alert
Sifting the debris
Of forgotten duties
Its allegiance unquestioned
Yet cautious of the angst of authority.
It does not speak its mind
For it roams outside the gates
Touches the edges of thought
Without recoiling
A day may come
When the sentinel
Will no longer remain silent
Learning slowly
That thoughts
Generated in silence
Should not remain so
Segregated by your callous posture
Serenaded by your soft, sensual voice
Seduced by your feminine mystique
Subdued by the fragrant aroma of your silky skin
Sheltered by your caressing stare
Shackled to your warm embrace
Surrendering to your beckoning bosom
Repulsed by your recoiling movements
Enraptured with each panting breath
Impounded by your entreating distress
Freed to enter your throbbing estate
Listen to poem:
how many times whiplash before neck
broken we fall before thee, prostrate,
dead.
crawling through backways,
squirming, recoiling,
is it a prayer or a deathwish. can it be
both. or, maybe, it is a leaking faucet
drip
into a sink with a stopper.
hand in hand,
drip
we have
so much
drip
potential.
A dreamy state in morning mist,
As curls of cloud, recline on earth,
The walking feet dare not resist.
The pathway fading just ahead,
Recoiling into the low clouds,
A mystery remains instead.
Wandering feet know their own way,
Whilst striding on without time to pause,
And dwell upon what comes today.
Old footsteps echo on the breeze,
Through dreams of love that time forgot,
Yet still it whispers through the trees.
Form: Enclosed Triplets
Darkness settles across the sky,
Bats flitting, begin to fly,
A howling wolf, set apart and aloof,
Eyes from the window cry.
Heroes secure in their proof,
The Vampyer, under castle roof,
Longing for past Love's tender ways,
Recoiling from lance and charger's hoof.
The drooling hound in restless pursuit bays,
The shining glory of all wakened days,
Vlad no longer rules the night or draws a fight,
For his recalcitrant sins, he bloody pays!
Wandering into calamity's fray
Between backbreaking battles to suffer through
Towards the dreams we gather for our resilience
Recoiling our ambition to fit the balance
In wakes of meaning and consequence
Deed and dire misspent intentions
We carry our weight of wanting
Like the waves that rise with the force of fate
Curling with resistance in reaching the shore
To crash in the destination of what is meant to be
And always shall be destiny's door
Am I joyful, or am I somber?
Am I radiant, or recoiling?
Do I reach out to you, or do I hide?
Can you tell? Will I decide?
Am I simple, or am I puzzling?
Do I caress you, or keep my distance?
Am I your true love, or just a stranger?
Will you ever know? Will I ever surrender?
Am I warm to you, or cold, impassive?
Do I allow you into me, or elude you?
Will I ever reveal myself to you, or for ever shut you out?
Please don't give up.
Keep looking, stranger, my true love.
The image could not be more clear:
the blowout from a diaper,
recoiling from my precious child
as though she were a viper.
Olfactory assault enough
to bring you to your knees,
the onesie soiled, arms raised, she cries
for you to help her, please.
Shaking, sweating, retching and forlorn,
gagging in the sink, “Who gave our daughter corn?”
—————
For the “Form I - Imagism - New Poem” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Written on 03/07/2022