Short Rotting Poems
Short Rotting Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Rotting by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Rotting by length and keyword.
Here I am.
Everywhere we were.
Capillaries fill with her,
rotting roots beneath trees,
feeding truth in buried leaves.
My heart was on a dusty shelf.
Broken, rotting, and dead.
You picked it up and revived me.
You brought me back from the dead.
Leaves once gleaming green
Lay brown and rotting in dust
Circle of life whirls
Written on:09/19/206
Contest: Autumn Haiku
May your pain erode you alike the touch of stagnation upon a rotting corpse- akin to a wilted rose stained with the stench of fear & longing.
tanka
Under the church`s floor
Hundreds of rotting coffins
A Jesus made of marble
The priest shivers when alone
Has God, forsaken him today?
Tanka
Under the church`s floor
Hundreds of rotting coffins
A Jesus made of marble
The priest shivers when alone
His flock sought a new pasture
Death, Depression, Doom
Destruction leading to Hell
Vampires with Witchcraft
Smelly rats and bats, rotting
Confusion, Chaos, Wolf Howls
9th May 2013
fallen, rotting tree
a short pause to sit and think
what was in this exact spot
one million years past?
my dog whines impatiently
as if he already knows...
Hold me near to your chest as I weep-
It has been long since I walked this mile,
Thoughts rotting inside me, I feel vile
The trials of my mind I shall always keep.
painted leaves abet
oak attacks: acorns,
tripping me up as
illegal fires smoke
rotting pumpkins
under fake blue skies
white sunshine
beating down
the cold
The streets of Laredo have no green fields,
nor has it fruit trees, nor rotting yields.
France has no cowboys that anyone sees,
and cowboys are never called deportees.
living yet dying
breathing yet asphxyiating
standing but falling
reanimating but rotting
loving yet hating
rejoicing yet crying
bleeding but healing
seeing but fading
Form:
Gangrenous decay
Hideous creeping movements
Odour of rotting flesh
Ulcerated weeping sores
Longing for meat from the grave
Jack Horne for Russell's Challenge contest, 8th October
Sweet ladybugs are not so ladylike
When frightened by oldster or a young tike
Squirting yellow liquid that tastes horrible and stinks
Putrid smelling, worse than corpses of six rotting minks.
the wet earth smells
like the sea
the rotting roots of plants
like the oily skin of fish
but im close to the sea,
two miles at most
so Ill say I can smell it,
no matter what it really is.
The silver lining
has eaten through my pockets
The bed of roses
Has faded to ash
Ground has opened
And from the depths
the putrid rotting
stench of dying life
has robbed my senses
of beauty
Those flowers rotting on the grave,
a sorry sight to see, I thought;
but then I found his ghost appears
and wilts them when they're freshly bought...
written 28th for Constance's Decay contest
Tired waters push their way through rocks
rocks hugged by rotting ivy's green
green surrounds the wild forest's stream,
stream flows calm, through places unknown...
11/6/15
Visual 2
Wear the mask
Graffiti tunnel
Windy inside
Worse above
Pretty defaced message
Spray paint tired
Isolated crowd
Echoed shroud
Subjugated love
Tread enraged
Rotting beneath
Porcelain crown
I first worked as guard
Slept in the cold like a dog
With a degree in therapy
rotting in my hut, never was I happy
But when my kids saw me
They saw a father
Coming from work with candies and cookies
Ten million people
killed by machete
The Congo a hemorrhage
of human despair
Ten million people
whose carcasses rotting
In jungles of torment
— and life’s disrepair
(The New Room: September, 2025)
feed this starving soul
give it sunshine
make it whole
absolve its need
free from greed
mankind's
rotting disease
plant the seed
grow selflessness
into a tree
love it's golden leaves
Copyright © 2009
Rotting away like tooth decay
Crashing down like a building
Dissolving like sugar in water
Just pain and no shielding
Breaking like glass
Chipping like wood
Been falling apart
From the start
Fixing it we should
My government
Has not approved
Helping the poor.
Going down town
Ancient food chain
Menu price up.
Market items
Rotting all eyes
Left empty hands.
My eyes eating
Paint hamburger
Cramps my belly.
To my family, I am unembodied.
Like a leaf in winter snow, I am hiding, but not rotting.
I’d rather be slathered with a powerful waterfall.
Instead of pulled from my habitat, in the peak of my thralls.