Short Roofless Poems
Short Roofless Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Roofless by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Roofless by length and keyword.
If I mound me white against the breast
Of earth shivering in the embrace
If I cover you with twinkling dust
While you are cuddled in roofless nest
And licked me wet from your face
Will that deny your summer's rage of lust?
Pearl – drops
on your upper lip:
heat –
of a stand-off
between
inside and outside.
More spiritual
I become
forgetting
the black eye,
I want to go back
with empty hands.
My home
is far away,
doorless,
roofless,
where dark squints at the moon.
SATISH VERMA
Form:
Regreting over the past
when the black ink
will never wipe out
Be happy here where we are
in this circle of onest lies
When we will look forward to tomorrow
Live without illusions
that will be better for others roofless
Maybe is all faulth
of the time which
only our fire can save
There is no roof on my house,
The water pours in when it storms,
The sun shines when its beautiful,
Still I live in my roofless house,
Always awaiting the sunny days,
The days when I lay and bask,
Always awaiting the rain to stop,
Yet the rain is cold, sobering,
And the true life is shown,
Only in my roofless house
In the Cathedral ruins
The ghosts seem friendly
Pigeons homely, air sweet
Clouds white with a hint of rain
The drops fall on the roofless relic
Like the ancient bombs
Failings of us all
Trying not to be religious
Humanity should think of itself
A bee gathers honeysuckle
People can love
Her limbs bloomed first
then her long sleek bones
formed angles
that seemed to touch
a roofless wonder.
The earth painted her
in a dark room.
A suggestion of starlight,
just an impression
flowers on the verge of her
when she is seen
as an instant memory.
A dark woman,
her soul as lightless as creation
before the light blinded us all
to the depth of God.
Sorrow climbs
its roofless tower
Descends to be thigh deep –
genitalia deep.
Now it has the weight
of rain clouds.
A smoked umber
moves through
an invisible throat.
Fine hairs
are stroked to arousal.
A drowning wrist
above a whirring hand.
Pressure rubs saturated sounds
from probing fingers.
The belly of a curving drum
thrums, moves us to a place
where nothing matters
but the next note.
Sorrow climbs
its roofless tower.
Descends to be gut deep,
genitalia deep.
Now it has the weight
of rain clouds.
A smoked umber
moves through
an invisible throat.
Fine hairs
are stroked to arousal.
A somnambulant wrist
pushing a whirring hand.
Pressure rubs saturated sounds
though probing fingers.
The belly of a curving drum
thrums, moves us to a place
where nothing matters
but the next note.
He is not just the one who lives in a street
But, that who has millions and eats beans
Then farts in a narrow spot in Wall Street
The one who has several ID's, names,
and passports with multiple loyalties
None of them is true
None of them is blue!
Who cannot use his real name nor identity
Like a mouse in dark night,
Roofless scared of others
Particularly dispossessed snakes, cats,
And generally many more ..
Stand beside me all the time
In this beautiful world because
Very important to me
And you are my breathe
Kindhearted and caring
Relation with me
Is unforgettable till i die
Show the same forever
How much ever we fight
Nothing is a hassle
And expecting you will be mine
Pity you left me
Under this roofless world
Valentine,will you come
Very soon and
Understand my feelings
Love me forever
As like before and ever after.
There were subtle declines,
still I opted for incompleteness.
A fierce battle was raging.
I think to start my descent
in roofless castle of mania
to watch the self-destruction of a landscape.
Thousands were squatting on mud tracks.
till the dead rise from their ice beds.
Ghostly hands were building the fire
to send the rivers in exile.
Hunger will decide the fate of the earth.
Man was playing with the sands.
SATISH VERMA
Form:
Capri
roofless cubes, spidery with wire,
cakes of azure and enzian;
above at the Villa San Michele
Rilke smiles down at the broken beaches,
at coves of defiant waves, compacted sea
Pompeii
a chessboard of honest stones
open to a sky of hushed shouts;
we huddle in a boned frame
of another life, a stopped day
Napoli
warm and secret, olive-eyed
an infinite beauty makes a new face
as we gaze ape-like from our bus;
an act of moment
I live in a roofless place
I do not have an expensive fur
You might not like the way
I feed myself
And I know, you neither like my presence
nor my appearance
as I'm
drowned with muddy paws
on a rainy day
juddering with runny nose
on a snowy day
and roasted with shiny dirty coat
on a sunny day
Yet under this already darkened
brightness of the sun
I'm wounded with heavy pebbles
and threatening rods
and the voices showing disgust.
I'm a stray
But I have a life too.