Short Slashes Poems
Short Slashes Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Slashes by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Slashes by length and keyword.
wind slashes wyoming wheat field
blades of windmill spinning furiously
animals find shelter under bridge
rain slams down, breaking stalks
no mercy
This feeling falls on broken eyelashes
so soft, more soft than a winter's breath
though the folds of dreams fade from nightmarish slashes
falling into a final death
Pain
Hurting
In my heart
Letting you go
It’s an agonizing feeling to bear
It slashes me deeply inside my core
Sidelined by love
Then it’s gone
It is
Over
Musical autumn leaves in slashes and swirls.
Flowing around me, making melodic curls.
Titters and skitters from mischievous squirrels,
What is more magical than September oak twirls?
Wilhelm de Kooning in a state of flux
spontaneous gestures at the crux
Joan Miro with impulsive slashes&spots
broken lined perspective dots
Henri Michaux painting without a thought
arn active process randomly sought
worry,
the darkest
dark
of solitude
a
silent
veto:
inanimate,
clouds my
field
of view,
brings
spasms
of emotion,
disturbs..
sunlight's rays
with
shadows
sickle-sharp moon slashes
silken sky.
dusk darkens deep purple,
lights die.
tonight old hermit leaves
his cave,
weaves tales of freedom
for slave;
vanishes like off-season
monsoon,
back next night of sickle-
sharp moon!
Our world is torn;
We must be menders,
Carers helpers and defenders,
Brothers, builders and befrienders--
Though the ripper's evil slashes
Flay the world to grievous gashes--
We must mend and employ
Needles of kindness and threads of joy.
shells wandered out onto the beach in strips and slashes
from the air it probably looked like a Shriner’s convention
God was materializing in the east in the form of an explosion
I ran to get my camera, not knowing what to photograph first
such an amazingly brilliant photographic opportunity!
ABSTRACTION
The black stripe
With crossing red slashes
Is not a chocolate cookie
These are paint strokes
Put on paper
Representational things – perhaps
But are they words?
Given aura
This could make them so
A thousand word poem
These strokes
But no chocolate cookie
Dave Austin
JOAN OF ARC
She earned the name
this woman
this welder
full leathers
shield in place
stinger
wielded with precision
smooth, molten slashes
melding cold iron
into heated union.
Joan of Arc!!
Don’t look directly at her
you may be smitten
by her welders flash.
John G. Lawless
8/29/2015
it slips her frame
the tiniest falls of water
cascade her curves
fingertips scratch
the liquid skim
trembled tremors timbre's
over the tensile taut
green splinters
in slashes of light
does she float
or does the water
raise her in their hands
in a hero's praise
its hold
of her reflection
just too long
Once lit by flickering torch light
with animal tallow mixed with ocher
daubed on subterranean rock walls
now lit by streetlights or LED headlamp
slashes of spray paint and magic markers
splattered on concrete bridge abutments,
boxcars, or walls of tenement ghettos,
but the message is the same
we were here.
Sweet scented, star shaped,
Summer sedative, silky spike
Shines with its short stature
Sign of sensuality and suppleness
Supports spirits, slashes stress
Scents and colognes made from it
Small, lovely, luminous jasmine, the
Special choice of beloved-hearts
Place : Honourable Mention
eager exotic eyelashes
doubly dilly dots and dashes
quixotic crazy slashes
friendly farm ashes
wild window splashes
breakneck barley bashes
goodly gnarly gnashes
heavenly hopeful hashes
slick satin like slashes
meandering and marauding mashes
creative corny clashes
boots improvising as goulashes
eager exotic eyelashes
“Destiny” implies
a controlling external force -
the random positioning of planets in solar orbit,
or the mysterious machinations of a spurious spirit in the sky -
both impressively improbable and laughably unlikely.
Occam’s razor slashes!
And free will is the last rational refuge standing...
September 14, 2020
Listen to poem:
Menacing winds howl through the fragile trees,
In shadows, rain slashes windows like a whip,
Lightning cracks—each flash a brief, jagged tease,
Thunder roars, shaking the earth with its grip.
Outside, the storm batters everything in sight,
Nerves stretch thin as we brace through the night.
Prayer
open door to heaven - devil’s descent at such prospects
teeth and claws - the nails on the cross
light seeps through Christ’s wounds - more sheep gather
angels take notice - boldness of blood, sweat and tears
angels and demons - double-edged sword slashes perversity
prayer’s perspicacity - heaven wins
Furocity - it boils within the very vessels in essence
Bursting esteemed love, susceptible in it's unwavering
Vulnerability
Purity abreast of angelic fortification so easily crumbled
Shattered as splintered crystal fury slashes altruistic tracts
Lively divine power, immeasurable, snuffed by frailty
Resentful vengeance's suffocating unrelent.
Yesterday is wrapped loosely
in the barbs and silky vapor of memory.
Tomorrow is a Mahogany wall of steep hope
slippery anxiety.
The Present is an awkward roll on an ocean.
of crimson crests and sable troughs.
Perfumed sails and bow-crushing sirens
Flashes of flippers and fins.
Sudden slashes and clicks.
The tapestry of grand sudden sorrow.
My heart sings soprano
As my muse and I face
A pristine white page
Both of us exhilarated
We look forward to
A day of unencumbered hours
Our excited imagination tears it up
Tossing down cartoons
Scribbling poem after poem
My right hand can barely keep up
As my soul slashes feelings across the pages
Creating faster than my mind can catch up
Along the path,
a hopper's song
slashes of yellow
feathered thoughts~
Along the path,
a slice of red
green scented heaven
a flowered dance~
Aside the path,
a fairy's brook
Queen Anne's lace
has found her rook~
Aside the path,
the clover walks
a mossy stone
to guide the lost~
At path's end
a burning lot,
of ogre croak
and texting snot.
The color of green hurts
Your abilities…
You cannot see…
Your heart is spoiled
You are vain….
I think your heart sits
On a vacant lot…
Just beat every now
And than..
The color of green
Slashes your tongue
Rolls up and hide…
Behind the color of
Green….
It slither into blackness
Of the faded trees..
It lives in the oasis
Of the waste land of
Deceit...
I kiss it as it kisses me back....from my red hair...once dry now soaked... to my clothes... playin in it...listenin to the melody as it slashes the leaves....as it tickles the walls....as it makes its way...for it attention it calls...RAIN ballad to the soul who cant speak just yet times come that experience wont let u forget... symphony so bold...its like a whisper untold.... RAIN
I wish I had a large pink magic eraser.
Jill gave me a mean look a few seconds ago.
So now I will erase her.
I begin at her feet, working my way up.
She is disappearing in swishes and slashes.
Her diabolical smile is the last thing I see.
My erasing is fierce now, as I erase that off her face.
As I rub her out entirely, I remember why I started
Cartooning a few years back.