Short Sound(A) Poems
Short Sound(A) Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Sound(A) by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Sound(A) by length and keyword.
Sounds in the mental ear
from a silent reading eye
broken monoku after John Hollander
The budget though
I have to say
Does sound a bit so
Jam today
Jam for some, for
Others sorrow
Nothing left for
Jam tomorrow
© Gail Foster 23rd September 2022
Independence only costs what you contribute
To live and die can be based on that choice
Fighting does not sound a call for violence
People accomplish so much more with a voice
forcing words to fit a
poem pattern that m
atters not to me mak
es me simply babble r
andomly mix matchin
g syllables not to conf
orm to word shapes or
counting never countin
g on them to sound a s
ong sung by some singer
Form:
Why so low,
why so down,
face of,
a crying clown.
Tip top,
don't drop.
Chin up,
for reasons that you don't know,
the sky filled with snow.
Writers block,
songs sound a note,
freedom is near,
no need to fear,
just the fallen snow,
long ago.
As i lay my head to sleep
I hear a sound, a scratch, a creep
A fall outside my bedroom door
Then silence, the sound exists no more
Again i hear a steady caw
A crow, as though, to something saw
Awake was i, for as i sit
Asleep in thought, my throat was slit
Form:
Take a sip
It won't hurt
I begin to stumble and trip
Stains on my shirt
Next time is different i say
Then i turn to a bottle
Not able to sound a hey
So ashamed while i hobble
Drinking again they ask
"im fine" i debated
Then i grab my flask
Now i know im wasted
I search deep inside my being to find,
The answers within my mind,
I hear your voice in my ear
A voice so sweet so very near,
The answers I found were always there,
Within my heart I’ll never fear,
A sound a touch that’s all my soul needs
To feel your love deep within me.
Was that a creaking limb?
I look up at a large oak soldier
Noticing an enormous squirrel nest for the first time
It is two feet wide, about fifty feet up on a large branch
A raven pushes off another branch
I hear the creaking limb sound a second time
Realizing it is his wings flapping against the air
From her womb...come birth
A child...a new life
His first sound...a cry
His first sight.... his mom
His first feel...mom's arms
His breath...so soft
Small toes...wee feet
His nose...so cute
His ears, he hears...
Love you, son
Lift your eyes
See the light
Come ere
To life
Child
Deep shadows at 3 AM
Awake again
Walking out to see the view
Shinning water
A moon
Sand paths shimmer
Trees loom black
Solid structure
Each sound a footprint
As animals move past
Every leaf in silhouette
Movement can catch the eye
At 3AM as I'm standing by
When I rise
It’s dark outside
Hit the road
By star light
Never I see
The morning sun
Hard at work
Then it comes up
Work all day
Till day is done
Then I go home
With setting sun
Quick to bed
In early eve
Sound a sleep
Then sun goes down
The money don’t
Made it good
Got to live
Got to work
It may sound a bit like corn
as I wake up this early morn:
some things went bad since I was born,
and, while that may be true,
each day's an opportunity to
change the thoughts I think, and things I do;
and, I'm happy, friend, to say,
there's a world before me to survey,
and a new sunrise, a brand-new day
I’ve been to counseling.
Uni-life can be stressful, it's a 'judgy' environment.
We're under constant evaluation.
So, there’s free counseling.
Have you ever been to counseling, dear reader?
What I love about counseling is that someone has to sit and listen to MY issues..
Wait, doesn’t that sound a lot like poetry!?
Not almost all of them turned bitter
Still sweet enough to taste
Not almost all of them turned to ashes
Still good enough to read the letters
Not almost all changed to snow
Some portions are still warm to hug
No lies to myself
I do
I do
Chat the same name when I'm
sound a sleep
with at least a 1 mm
sweet little memory left!!
Form:
they say everything has a connected sound, a melody,
an art, and you are only required to have an ear of appreciation
So you should never ever stop trying to push the limits
You just never should, even with all the new technology they have
these days.
Just listen, to your heart. Listen to what it might tell you.
Can you hear me?
Peace!
Yes, of course I am the king and lord of this house.
Sure, you could talk to the Mrs. if she was here,
You're back? Probably better not to wake my spouse,
Sleeping sound, a wonderful woman, a real dear.
Her not being here for days is truly not *****.
Tomorrow is probably not convenient either.
She’s come down with the mumps and rheumatic fever.
My sweet canary just loves to sing,
with his yellow beak and golden wing.
His lovely songs will make you shake,
all other tunes will sound a fake.
But as I sit and think alone,
I feel my heart is made of stone.
My precious bird could be my sin,
I keep his soul well locked within.
For every soul is born so free,
I doubt your mind will disagree.
First off, Jacks last name was not Horner
Though, with a pie, he sat in a corner
His real name was Horny
Now this may sound a bit corny
But there’s a reason that he was a loner
In fact, Jack wasn’t so little they did say
That’s why in the corner he’d play and play
He was always alone
With a pie of his own
And he’d chase all his stress then away
I wrote this corny little poem
But I wrote it just for you
So you can always read it
Whenever you’re sad or blue
The words may sound a little silly
`Cuz baby I ain’t that smart
But you can always rest assure
They came from my loving heart
So keep this poem beside you
And whenever you’re sad or blue
All you do is read the words
And know
I LOVE YOU
Form:
Doves soaring high in the sky.
And the cool breeze rushing by.
Leaves rustling in the air.
Beautiful flowers tucked in the hair.
Standing on a grassy plain.
No sorrows no pain.
A contented heart.
Life as sweet as a lemon tart.
Smiles all around.
Every sound a pleasant sound.
Sitting in the shade of big trees.
I feel the magic of Peace.
I feel the magic of Peace.
Although I’m late, my pace is slow
The woods are dark, my path to go.
Each sound, a host of unseen brutes
That lurk amongst the tangled roots
Of trees that line my pitch-black route.
I want to scream, I want to shout
And yet a light, though faint ahead
A beacon to my waiting bed
Soon steps through welcome bolstered door
Assure me that I’m safe once more
Cocuswood, the perfection and beauty
made perfect sound a pitch
deemed as bass
a tone
with depths and richness
cocuswood
the studio with the barned afea
cordwood walls
five cords of cedar
cemented into
a fantastic and beautiful
place
sound and perfection
slendid for the eyes to see
a perfect place to
admire the beauty
of a bassy cocuswood bassoon
Listen to poem:
*Image of Pleiades or 7 Sisters by EarthSky.
AUDIO: Possible sound a forming star cluster might make
Pleiades
Pleiades is a sort of verse,
Poems consist of seven lines,
Provided title is one word,
Per titled first letter start lines,
Post any forms such as free verse,
Parables, with meaningful depth,
Pens skilled poetess and poets.
2022 August 20
In the heart of the city,
where the rhythm flows,
KCCK Jazz Radio, where the magic grows.
Man, turn up the dial, let the jazz play,
A symphony of legends, lighting up your day.
The greats of jazz, their spirits alive, Miles and Ella, they thrive.
Old school notes dance with the fresh, A fusion of sound, a vibrant mesh.
Be there now, don’t you dare be square.