Short Slough Poems
Short Slough Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Slough by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Slough by length and keyword.
spirit’s star blazes
angels slough caste to chorus
tongues of shepherds freeze
pride-twisted scripture withers
born clean is the King of Souls
A slough of moonlight
Singing lost love songs
A firefly playing rodeo
A lovers reach in petrified time
Butterflies, take it on this Summer night
deadhead any grudges
slough off wilted feelings
instill a will to replenish
what was lost with more
abhor stagnation
regain greater growth
4-13-2022
A slough of love
serenading moonlight
A snowball chance in a dream
Buffalo riders playing rodeo
A lovers touch in spring
petrified on time
Absent friends
on the wreath of time
Pain, torture is rough
with diamond in the rough
life is not enough
we drill with slough
tough enough we do
curious and patient ado
difficulties becomes my boo
and blood is my goo.
When we slough off this mortal coil,
it’s best we die on memory foam,
imprinted on the ones who toil,
the ones stuck cleaning out our home.
H/T to John Grinsell's Thoughts on dying
Lone and cradle of bone
Alone I am in crowded cone
Phone is stay on the air
Amid of voices I hear thousands fear
Slough of golden serpent runs on sand of river
A stain - zigzag plays a game of dark as aloof surfer !
Mind has many doors
At times it's an unknown peninsula
A labyrinth at closer look.
Move scum slovenly
Or else you'll lose yourself
Dreams,swarming feelings
Make a slough of despondency
A slog of sorrow
Marshy land
Squirm through closed doors
Of turbulent mind
Hearken, mind murmurs
And get lost with
The way of the world.
Tormented soul
And the poetries sleeping underneath.
Prosecuted silhouette,
And the senses slough off and weep.
Deep inside a cage
It wants a hibernation.
Throw some sorry look
Penetrating an inapt haze.
Serpentine days pass by
Followed by strangled nights.
And, then it wants to breathe,
Under the warmth of ragged poetry.
Although
it’s a hard row to hoe
a rough furrow to harrow
and a tough trench to plough
there’s many a meadow to mow
I hereby avow
and tho' it may be news to you
farmers have the need
to sow their seeds
where milkmaids milk the cows
swineherds feed their sows
and shepherds have their pie
and eat it too
in Slough now
Summer has passed into fall
The White of Winter is in full bloom
Yesterday’s winds have blown by
Tomorrow has come for us today
It is now a new year, a year of expectation and hope is ahead.
Do not want to waste time on things that have died and are dead.
The seeds of life lay dormant waiting for the waters of spring.
So slough off the dead things and enter into the living
And begin to live again.
Oh, to have skin that's thick and tough
Where nothing's really strong enough
To penetrate and cause a wound,
Too thick to even be harpooned.
Some lucky souls are built that way
And keep life's stings and barbs at bay,
Protected by such armored skin
That nothing hurtful trickles in.
Alas, my skin's like cellophane;
Each minor pinprick causes pain.
An upgrade to a thicker hide
Would help slough off my wounded pride.
Renascence, commence
Out with the old
It’s time for the phoenix
The embers grow cold
Renascence, intense
Shedding one’s skin
Slough off the layers
And try to begin
Renascence, immense
No little change
Break it all down
A complete rearrange
Renascence, effulgence
Let it all shine
I could not have done it
Without the divine
————-
“Renascence”
for the This or That, Vol 14 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Edward Ibeh
written on 11/8/22
Handcuffs for Chief Craig who snuffs!
No longer seems one who bluffs,
Empty his third boxed up Snuff;
I could not help “An Enough!”
The act capturing as duff,
Performer to nostrils rough…
Pity had I for Craig’s nose
Brownish Powder hoped to close:
Bad Air spreads each time it blows,
East/West: wherever it goes…
Craig’s fights with snuff getting tough,
Off Craig should his thick skin slough;
Keep I shall for him voice gruff
But for a Chief not him cuff.
If you walk up to her right now
And before all eyes quickly bow,
She will you her night's bed allow;
Throughout the night address your slough,
Her lands release for you to plough,
Your rivals warm against a row,
Everything hand you but a dhow,
Because finding one knows not How...
If you walk up to her right now
And before all men act a cow
You're getting a sleek Hausa Cow.
Not in the next hour: "Right now".
It is no debate for sages:
Deserve worshipers their wages.
A molt of starlight on new snow
white slough over black drenched fields.
A window captures it all as a freeze-frame.
Glass reflects and takes my picture
through an eyeless lens.
Behind me, a log fire cracks and chirps
in the language of firebirds.
The room chirrs warmly like a fiddle in a ghost camp.
The cabins foundations are structured hollows.
it breaths through its long bones.
I turn to look at where I live, see only the past looking back,
I dwell within a camera.