Short Sledgehammer Poems
Short Sledgehammer Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Sledgehammer by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Sledgehammer by length and keyword.
Sledgehammer was so enamored
Of my wife Elizabeth Bard
'I am a modern beau
Never, I cannot go slow'
Oh Sorry, he was caught offguard
If I were to take a sledgehammer
Grip it tender but tight
So its iron skull may send
A scathing speech to your sternum
Would bricks take flight,
Or are you truly that dense?
set for life
to be a success
takes an element of luck
a big sledgehammer
fortuitous ricochets
unlike me ~ know when to duck
Capture the moments that will never come back
two squirrels play in the walnut tree
Do they use a sledgehammer to crack a nut?
26.10.22
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Use a sledgehammer to crack a nut
Use a howitzer to blast you butt
This was the rule of Timmer
He was a creative beamer
Put fire to his hut in imaginative smut
"You can't keep an innate survivor down for long" - quote by poet
smited down by misfortune's sledgehammer
picks up his pieces, rises...
now standing firm, tested.
Form K - Kimo - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Theme picked: Life
Date written: 03/26/2022
The late, great Rev Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., also known as "Dr. King"
His legacy and sledgehammer impact on civil rights, long-lasting
In 1963, he eloquently delivered his iconic speech, "I Have A Dream"
Long-gone, yet his love light for humanity continues to gleam.
Carve into your heart
with a red hot knife
Cut away that part
which justifies life
An exquisite piece
of dream like arts
Torn and shredded
into bloody little parts
Coughing it out
bit by tiny bit
What doesn't digest,
doesn't just sit
Sledgehammer blows on
a pretty white dove
The brutal fate of
an unwanted love
Form:
All night
a sleepwalking death
stumbled in and out of his prone body.
He had been drinking again,
whisky fumes rolled around
a dry, thick tongue.
The air in the room
wavered from hot to cold,
feverish self-repeating scenes
of Paganini trilling a fiery violin
haunted his aching brow.
A sledgehammer dawn hit him.
Death withdrew from dulled senses,
yet it lingered like a bloodshot eye,
at the bottom
of a half-full decenter.
I am shackled to my front door
My definition of freedom is foregin
I am cold
Cold is my dying dreamer
Cold is my burning rage
Cold is a sledgehammer
It gives and it takes
Silence is my voice
Tired is my body
Death is me
For a love i have lost
The burden carrying back broken
For a dream that i killed
Temptation is golden
The steps to my hell
Lead to a door
The door that knows my many faces
The boomerang that breaks me.
-k.a.j
By her prose a palace built;
Dioclesian, marble-carved.
Every verb sinks to the hilt
And settles there, trailing silt
And I chip away grammar,
With us in museum-lull;
Statuesque, sans what glamour
Was burst by the sledgehammer
Of Distance (Your best defence),
In cautious doubting tiny taps
Around the surface. Nouns tense,
Tasting such salt-permanence.
I dust your indelibly-
Sung radiant cadences
(Me still now in minor key).
Ever monumental - She.