Short Sluggishly Poems
Short Sluggishly Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Sluggishly by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Sluggishly by length and keyword.
fast…work is done…slow
quickly…cleaning…sluggishly
a.m. & p.m.
the angst anchored in stalling
then accomplishing it all
What ought to have lapsed
A decade ago sluggishly pops;
Antagonist’s claws now thaw
And give way to buoyant hopes.
Joyful
Enthusiastic, Excitedly
Frolicking, dancing, skipping
Face, Smile, Covers, Bed
Hiding, Secluding, Sleeping
Sluggishly, Depressing
Sorrowful
In the indecision--
the sidewalk's cracked masses,
always greener the upside,
screaming horns and Styrofoam cup lipstick stains--
the Second Hand grows sluggishly Dopesick;
Tick tock Time vomits itself to a hault
and the environment produces
Me.
There it was,
Slowly drifting
Above the blue waters.
Abandoned.
Emotionless.
Lifeless.
There it was,
Laying still
Under the cruel skies.
Stagnant.
Alone.
Apathetic.
There it was,
Sluggishly floating
Amidst ebb tides.
Directionless.
Hopeless.
Impassive.
.
down thuh nymph’s
spine
mine patient
duke’s digits
thick
sluggishly
strut
The sun sets
Rolling sluggishly
In the exiting tide
There is a joy to it
Frolicking in the froth
Of soap suds surf
We play our parts
In the evening reverie
Dancing alone
Shadows
Carried away
Like rolling stones
Distant bells
Peal
In soft darkness
I walk away
Leaving
My presence
John G. Lawless
©8/13/2023
This river is full of bodies,
dead fish, dead fishermen.
This river crumbles its banks,
it invades in trickles,
sluggishly it engulfs.
Once it deeply flowed
then death withered the water.
The bodies,
the dead fish, the fishermen,
all float upon its turgid path.
Where it goes no one knows,
for its long journey is too slow,
too polluted to measure.
Only the dead now catch each other.
see how they run
summer come and gone
see how they run
frost, its icy fingers
touched our lands this morning
light crept sluggishly
from behind the horizon
to do battle for prominence
here above my cottage.
the white-cold face of winter
smiled surreptitiously
arrogant in knowing
that his power made all life run
before him as sheep,
stalked by the white wolf.
see how they run!
'...the great tide that treads the shifting shore.'
-Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sluggishly the waves steal in like guilty
lovers, apologetic,
smothering the shore with gentle kisses
of contrition;
the ocean lies at rest, the surf recumbent,
apoplectic.
Suddenly the heavens burst, tides no
longer in remission,
swells that idled now surge into shore
their temper rages,
'sotto voce' once, now they roar like tigers
in their cages!
'...the great tide that treads the shifting shore.'
-Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sluggishly the waves steal in like guilty
lovers, apologetic,
smothering the shore with gentle kisses
of contrition;
the ocean lies at rest, the surf recumbent,
apoplectic.
Suddenly the heavens burst, tides no
longer in remission,
swells that idled now surge into shore
their temper rages,
'sotto voce' once, now they roar like tigers
in their cages!
'...the great tide that treads the shifting shore.'
-Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sluggishly the waves steal in like guilty
lovers, apologetic,
smothering the shore with gentle kisses
of contrition;
the ocean lies at rest, the surf recumbent,
apoplectic.
Suddenly the heavens burst, tides no
longer in remission,
swells that idled now surge into shore
their temper rages,
'sotto voce' once, now they roar like tigers
in their cages!
Our home used to be calm.
Sophie, our cocker spaniel set the pace.
She was an only child.
We were barely moving back then – sluggishly slow.
Buddy arrived. A big goofy puppy.
We are all racing around now.
He is fast, and he sets our pace.
He is the alpha dog.
Flying leaps from couch to recliner.
Jumping over a horrified elderly dog, Sophie.
We all defer to this new Alpha Dog.
I am pinned in my recliner now while he hits the recline button with his rear.
'...the great tide that treads the shifting shore.'
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sluggishly the waves steal in like guilty
lovers, apologetic,
smothering the shore with gentle kisses
of contrition;
the ocean lies at rest, the surf recumbent,
anorectic.
Suddenly the heavens burst, tides no
longer in remission,
swells that idled now surge into shore
their temper rages,
'sotto voce' once, now they roar like tigers
in their cages!
Out in the freezing rain
Hesitates gray morning
Between winter's end and
Spring's early intentions.
Leafless barren trees
Lining up on my street
Glitter sluggishly
Tiny frozen droplets
Hanging from twigs and stems
Resembling white gems.
Until young golden rays
Reflect in puddles,
Exposing to my view
Growth of green buds
Emerging from nodes
Where moments before
I saw tiny white pearls.
March 1, 2019
Placed first: March 2019 week 1 contest by Brian Strand
'...the great tide that treads the shifting shore.'
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sluggishly the waves steal in like guilty
lovers, apologetic,
smothering the shore with gentle kisses
of contrition;
the ocean lies at rest, the surf recumbent,
anorectic.
Suddenly the heavens burst, tides no
longer in remission,
swells that idled now surge into shore
their temper rages,
'sotto voce' once, now they roar like tigers
in their cages!
'...the great tide that treads the shifting shore'
-Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sluggishly the waves steal in like guilty
lovers, apologetic,
smothering the shore with gentle kisses
of contrition;
the ocean lies at rest, the surf recumbent,
anorectic.
Suddenly the heavens burst, tides no
longer in remission,
swells that idled now surge into shore
their temper rages,
'sotto voce' once, now they roar like lions
in their cages!
'...the great tide that treads the shifting shore'
-Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sluggishly the waves steal in like guilty
lovers, apologetic,
smothering the shore with gentle kisses
of contrition;
the ocean lies at rest, the surf recumbent,
anorectic.
Suddenly the heavens burst, tides no
longer in remission,
swells that idled now surge into shore
their temper rages,
'sotto voce' once, now they roar like lions
in their cages!
'...the great tide that treads the shifting shore'
-Edna St. Vincent Millay
Sluggishly the waves steal in like guilty
lovers, apologetic,
smothering the shore with gentle kisses
of contrition;
the ocean lies at rest, the surf recumbent,
apoplectic.
Suddenly the heavens burst, tides no
longer in remission,
swells that idled now surge into shore
their temper rages,
'sotto voce' once, now they roar like lions
in their cages.