Short Spurting Poems
Short Spurting Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Spurting by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Spurting by length and keyword.
Winding twisting spines
Wild hair
Frozen in time
Wrapped around like vines
Of red, and yellow there
Frozen in time
With branching spurting lines
That shed when there is ware
Frozen in time
Form:
His steps are heavy
Yet he is invisible
The panic sets in
Take him for a walk
Leave him some where safe and sound
To find his own way
The grey, dreary, day
Sputtering and spurting now
Big crocodile tears
As you would, with angel wings
Immerse in this fact.
Yours are precious lives; wellsprings
Bright and clear of Love.
High or low, spurting active
Angelic -the same!
Rainbows, Heaven-reflective
Light the skies above.
How could I forget the sight
He fought for dear life
As she stabbed with a knife
His face overcome with despair
Blood spurting on her hair
She wiped her sweaty face
The lump in my throat!
My son, she said
You too will slaughter a goat
Ethos of 10
They sat, bemused,
in their inocence;
wearing their guilt,
braided tight.
Sealed in a pointed star;
Waiting on the Wolf and Its teeth,
to severe the braids of gold.
Oh the crimson spurting;
wasted for free breath.
Always a thought bothers me.
How the winner should behave
with stuffed ego?
A cipher this side,
or that side, makes a huge difference
in life.
Some solar retribution
of Yohimbi ?
A victim could wait.
Two severed arms
lay on road, still spurting blood !
SATISH VERMA
Form:
Always a thought bothers me.
How the winner should behave
with stuffed ego?
A cipher this side,
or that side, makes a huge difference
in life.
Some solar retribution
of Yohimbi ?
A victim could wait.
Two severed arms
lay on road, still spurting blood !
SATISH VERMA
Form:
Dancing to creolizing rhythms
singing salty re-ligioned rhymes,
nature’s nurturing nutritious reasons
sexy summer follows spurting spring
before falling into winter’s restoring peace
somnolent sultry hibernations
Dream dancing
fertile heart-song seasons
reweaving sinfully sensational
ecstatic freedoms.
The metaphor is lazy now;
a mammoth, sloth-like grazing cow.
Where once it cut like razor wire;
hot spurting fat that hit the fire
that boring repetition quenched;
and all its potent power drenched.
Now the elephant in the room
the dreamy languorous exhume;
because to have the wit to think
could, conceivably, raise a stink.
Turrets are turning,
behind the tanks
exhausts are farting death clouds,
barrels, like angry dicks,
are hot, erect and spurting,
buildings erupt, climaxing
on TV screens.
On both sides of these yonder hill
where the redline bleeds,
blank-eyed children,
play their video games,
while trying to overhear
a merciful God at His prayers.
PRECIOUS MOMENTS
Clip clop, our shoes go on the cobblestones
As we walk on, daddy and I
Our usual thing
The sun smiling
And us squinting
Talking and laughing
And sometimes advising
Getting a tan
The two bodies are fountains
Spurting out waterfalls of thoughts
And feelings too
We make a pact, daddy and I
Walk buddies forever
And so it was
Until it wasn’t.
It was more than
I could take.
The phallic paranoia.
Can I come out of
your body and kneel
before death ?
Less than dark
I dream of the nipples
spurting out venom.
A pumice raft
of the crowd, sailing
on the waves of narcissism.
Invisible sharks
on high seas
open the lambs for salt.
Can you eat your
words please ?
There is nothing left on the plate.
Satish Verma
Herded humans
Sweltering trains
Dead cargo
Suffering remains
Gunshot glory
Spurting spite
Guarded genocide
Barbwire lights
Warsaw widows
Stripped of food
Numbered days
Ribs that protrude
Anesthetized surgeons
Screaming knife
Smoldering smokestacks
Vacating life
Conveyor belt corpses
Rolling into ravines
Six million taken
Will no one intervene
Patiently pausing
just to clear the doubt
unraveling the misty dust
with its' enthralling vagueness
Wailing inwardly
spurting witty venom
spilling dreadful hemp
spinning loathsome web
with threads
craving for greatness
the web and mind
whirling mindlessly
as one entrapped in a vacuum
swaying hopes
distorting reality
Not confused by those lips, Charming
Been peeping the game since day one, two, and three
Honesty pledge a tool, red apple tempting
Pretend confusion a mechanism to aid in the allusion
A diversion from reality, sleeping
No one fooled, rumpelstiltskin
Not buying the garbage that spurting
I believe you believe it to be true
Living in your own fantasy
Alice in Wonderland you be
They were teaching how to butcher
the lamb
and suspend the bines with
drooping hops.
I climbed out of my ashes towards
a marinated moon turned blue in consternation.
Warts and all, here we were ready
to pick up the lost threads to start
a conversation about the hurricane making
landfall, in near future.
After the fall, graffiti appeared on
the clouds, spurting sperms
on the stars.
Satish Verma
Form:
“Here is the negation of time, untime, and even the atom of fire, but no negation of the absolute Truth. Why dost thou, who art the identity in all, grieve in thy heart?”
We as Self have no attribute,
neither attachment nor desire,
yet breath by breath as we reboot,
we are the light that sparks heart’s fire.
The power of bilocation,
positions the Self everywhere,
bliss beats spurting heart’s elation,
as pure awareness self-aware.
Here I sit
composing juices spurting
spewing, gushing, splashing,
dripping every wall!
like Mount Etna awakened
my mind erupting with poetic
genius
like Roman Candles
on 4th of July
up hops lover, the cat
he tangles my hands
mounts the keyboard
demanding, purring
I say, "lover, have you no
respect for art, for my
exquisite, rarer singular mind producing --
he meows
needfully reminds me
"nothing more important than
petting" --
It felt like he was looking around
though his eyes were viewing him through
ten-thousand other eyes
that shone in the black-cat night.
Atoms were rumbling like boulders
down his spine,
then he turned to water,
a geyser of light spurting out of an artery
of unrecognizable thoughts
that tunneled him into Her.
The Her was looking around him now,
opening him up.
Then he really began to look around.
When he awoke, for a long while
he felt like an empty can of Spam.
He loves Spam.
An open window smiled invitingly,
she laughed and slowly crept into his room,
he slept on unaware of pending doom,
she smiled, her fangs a scary sight to see.
She softly stroked his face and kissed his throat,
he didn't waken as she broke the skin
and lapped the spurting blood that flooded in,
so sated that her form began to bloat.
Unseen, his wife was watching, grinning wide;
the vampire saved a former battered bride.
written 18th November for Constance's V (vampire) contest