Short Replays Poems
Short Replays Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Replays by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Replays by length and keyword.
I relived the passions,
Becoming yours again...
Ah, flash backs,
Are never as divine,
As the instant replays!
Cynthia
Negativity
Manipulative
Discerning…concerning…ever-burning and forever churning inside
Joy
Peace
Replays scene…
PTSD So indecent
Heart full of innocence
bliss transmutes as peace
attributeless, spacial
whilst retaining
it’s vibrancy
the magic
replays within
merging polarities
centred everywhere
06-December-2022
domesticated
thirty-something female
watches deep sea fishermen
battle with her demons
testosterone depleted husband
watches lions mating
in the Serengeti
orange fingers
stray to bite sized
edibles
child plays on a mat
with imaginary cat
a television replays
its family circle
the day after you feel like you can't go on
the day when everything went wrong
a day that just went on for too long
the night you couldn't see through the haze
the night in your head that just replays
a night where there was no end in the maze
a time when life has to begin
a time when you shouldn't give in
3 years in 3 days,
the horror of replays.
Like a bug caught in a jar,
awaiting the inevitable.
No holes,
asphyxiation in darkness.
Battling in dark fantasies,
the journey of fire.
The burning eternal,
calloused soul.
Scorched at the core,
how much must I endure
before I see the light..
If ignorance is bliss
Should I shut my eyes?
Form:
Tacked in six syllables
Thrilled with five rhythmic calls
Triangular in form
Takes doubled shape-like cone
Tuned in fine symmetry
Tops the poet’s forte
This pleiades replays.
Jan 24,2022 11.32am
6 syllables per line
Write About a Form
Contest Judged: 2/19/2022 3:23:00 PM
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Place 2
Drizzles ice
up when I run
naked
it touches me
through my shirt.
Sweat
is water plus salt.
Sprayed on ice,
I can't tell the difference.
I pass the window of a house
reflection
I touch it
through my shirt.
Slowmo
my head replays
a side view of me crashing
melting ice.
I need to apologize so
we touch
through my shirt.
Sounds of yesterday take me back.
Elements of memories spark my heart.
Nuggets of stored treasures are priceless..
Time has miraculously slowed just a bit.
Inside my mind it replays.
Music of moments.
Emotions of both joy and pain.
Nostalgia can be sweet.
Today can be timmow'sgems.
A walk in backward steps.
Living the furure the past..
A fleeting passing shadow,
so soft in a dreamscape’s grey,
collects from past’s silhouettes
to sharpen memoirs image
revealed in dreaming glitter,
stark now in memory’s recall,
the past, now present, replays
©Debra Squyres
11/07/14
Written for: Silhouette of a Heptagonet
Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
Theme: Silhouette of Night
A kiss on the neck, a peck on the cheeks
You turn round to me and our lips sweetly meet
Our hands re-discover, yesterdays places
As our loving replays, our sensual graces
Our love will continue until one of us is gone
Until that day happens, our hearts will sing the same song
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-15.php
dark asphalt circle—
no off-ramp option to choose
stuck on nowhere's road
spinning through the roundabout
hands and arms flailing wide out
no signal blinking
hope loops through endless replays
needle stuck in groove
I can't find the exit sign
to guide me outta here, now
on and on I drive
without a destination
without a signpost
watching the fuel gauge drop
No matter what I do,
He's cruel invading voice echoes in my brain.
Nearly a decade since we parted, everyday the same sentence replays.
Trapped in an endless circle that never goes away.
What started as a joke that he would say, for over a decade i heard it everyday.
Now its carved Like a permanent scar, he's voice saying your fat and ugly wherever you are
a time for us
never did find
the clock
was it too fast
or was it to slow
I don’t know
time unwinds
the mistakes
that were made
time rewinds
then replays
small things
large things
words said
words unsaid
words stuck
in the heart
dying
from lack
of light
lack of chance
too late now
the clock
has stopped
never
forever
a time for us
The emotions that flew and blew
The moments that grew and drew
The memories we built and filled
The secrets we quilt and lilt
Beauties they were
Enriching they were
Promising they seemed
Entertaining they appeared
Am always
No delays
Only replays
Honored in rays
To have met you, till next time
a slip through time
of that already known
when a sudden prompt from the unconscious
to the conscious
of a memory from a past or future life
replays in the present
a deep feeling of familiarity floods the body
a sense of wonder and awe
of the complex interweaving lives
planned by the soul in order to grow
and this life - your life
is a part of that plan
New year's resolution to make?
Perhaps that's a silly mistake.
My life is too short
for me to support
reforms for the brand new year's sake!
No chance to change my settled ways!
I'm fine with the way I spend days.
I won't rock my boat,
new year please take note,
a copy of last year- replays!
December 30, 2016
Contest: Sencleri-limoku
Sponsor: Brian Strand
26.
The low level haze
Carries the smell of smoke superbly.
The morning cooled daze
Leaves no room for joking.
Silence flies a dove.
The May early Sunday
Marries the peace of two lovingly.
No serendipitous replays
Sighs for attention provoking
Reverence stays above.
The grayness of this sky
Expires the normal jests remarkably
The quiet does not lie
Takes no verse evoking
Guidance He is love.
Stardom beams, ascends,
thin arms lit in show-time glare—
fame salts fragile skin.
applause hardens inside out
talent burns bright, then burns out.
Replays harken back
success narrows its focus
to reclaim heaped praise.
inspiration in tatters,
worn out by adulation
Tall poppies are cut,
brittle star loses its arms
pulls back, swells its head
drunk on self-adulation—
it's well past its use-by-date.
Eat thou not the bread of remorse
For its taste is bitter, tough, coarse
Made from many wrong of yesterdays
As it has aged, dried__ changed assays
Replays of when it was just baked
And of those whom heartbreak suffered
From puerile stunts and brainless words
Discords that filled that loaf's innards
Now moldy, indigestible
This bread, remorse......abominable
In Honor of Brian Strand's contest
Up to twelve lines..
The Stupid Bowl is Over
Except for the analyses
the replays
the highlight reels
the interviews
the talk-shows
the editorials
the commentaries
the speculation
the what-ifs
the tributes
the obituaries
(the hangovers)...
It ain’t over ‘til next February
My days grow short and the shadows lengthen
I pray hard that my prayers will strengthen
My nerve here at the end
My life replays before my eyes each day
And I smile as I watch - Oh, what can I say
I loved my life
The time came and all of the skies lightened
Then a voice spoke but I wasn't frightened
"Well done, son! Welcome home."
5-31-20
Contest: Triple Stanza Couplet Tail Rhyme
Sponsor: Charles Messina
Now it’s Roethlisberger versus Rodgers
To escape sacks, they’ll have to be dodgers
Two very strong defenses
Big egos and pretenses
When the ball’s caught, they’ll try to dislodge her
There are only 60 minutes to play
But these games last four hours anyway
Referee calls disputed
Jeers from the crowd unmuted
But the instant replays will save the day
Entry for Royal Trevino's contest
I see the vision playing back on me.
I close my eyes so I can't see
But the view won't stop.
Like this is on top
Of my list to do.
To be haunted by sights of you.
Visions of that day.
Now the pain just won't go away.
Now it replays back in my mind.
But I'm not the one pressing rewind.
You have made my life haunted.
And now the nightmares will never stop it.
Until I can finally tell my story.
My story of what has happened to me.
At the moment of death, when our body falls,
as our whole life replays through our laboured mind,
what are the dark spots our heart then there recalls,
that still exercises a relentless bind
on our consciousness far removed from bliss squalls,
having not pursued pathways loving and kind
and thus our head and heart not quite hand in glove,
do we learn at last that we owe debts of love?
03-January-2023