Short Stream Of Consciousness Poems
Short Stream Of Consciousness Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Stream Of Consciousness by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Stream Of Consciousness by length and keyword.
A bit of rhythm
A bit of rhyme
A stream of consciousness
That sounds as it should
Over breaths of time.
3.1.2022 c njb 4:16
spawn leaped from the page
splashing, rollicking awhile
swimming headlong up
a stream of consciousness to
generate ideas -- exits.
stream of consciousness
rippling flow of energy ~
source for good or ill
02.02.20
Senryu On Mind Poetry Contest -sponsored by Jenish Somadas
I’m writing my life story
Over and over
Without stopping to edit
Stream of consciousness
Through vast and varied terrain
Fresh and familiar in the same
Breath each
Time well spent.
a sky of clarity
rain
an ocean of words
spawn
a river of thoughts
flow
a stream of consciousness
share
a pond of cure
guide
tide pools of knowing
toward
thinning puddles of calm
all aware to a last drop
Walk into my third dimension
The verbal stream of consciousness
My inner sanctum
Fixate on the journey ahead
Luring your normal thinking habits into asphyxiation
Seep into my abyss of endless knowledge
While your mind and soul wade through my psyche
Oh its an entity you'll yearn for
sudden&
momentary
manefestations
in
messages
a divine
deliverance
a
showing forth
in gesture
&
memorable phrase
a disclosure
of the innate
inner being
in
fragments
of feeling
Drops of oil
Scar the soul
Scare the mind
Steal the life
Dead
Cold
Frigid and still
Creeping vines
Inching in the dark
Sealed rosebuds
Fall to the ground
Trembling in the wind
Vultures
Beak and Talon
Silhouette against the moon
Darkness under the wing
Tick
Tock
Midnight
Tick
Tock
Die
You can't pizazz good poetry
It's more of a creepy, crawly thing.
How do you like my alliteration?
Stop snorting, good golly
(prescribing popcorn pureed in petulance)
okay, at least I tried... truly ;)
ps, am not into popularity.
just jivin.
don't dawdle
or drivel or drink much or dribble or
worry
stream of consciousness....
Ms. Mills taught me that
seems surreptitious to stop suddenly.
So I shall.
Flow the water mercurial,
lapping foreign shores;
in amniotic heaven,
endlessly explores.
Ripples ever growing,
spread in rainbow light,
expanding and refracting,
filtered clear and bright.
Connected to the babble
of the whispering water's voice;
plugged into the gentle
rushing symphony of noise.
Flow maternal tears,
streamed past lips upturned in smile;
pools and leas and waterfalls
for mile on mile on mile...
Lost in haze,floating in endless absence of body.
Awaken in direct sight of pearl white gates.
Lead off to visions of my mothers' face.
She calls''Reach for me baby.''
Longing for her hand,my stance of no control slips.
I fall into darkness.
Lifting up in bed,I shiver cold from sweat.
If not real?My tears would not exist.
The Stream Of Consciousness Contest.....
sponsored by...Debbi Guzzi
written by..Kacey Greenlee
kaceymike29
Allowing great alembics access over hill and glade and brush and dale of mind and swimming softly through the river running up fantastic meadows speckling valleys round the bay ensconced by lighting strikes and thunder booms across the Roman sky above the Irish ground and all throughout the savage peasant towns of lies of great and small import but all the time of luscious past and pregnant present and the future’s wide embrace of mighty life.
Her abusive behaviour,
Between a rock and a hard place,
A mittimus nature,
To get one’s rocks off,
A riveting street credibility,
A stream of consciousness.
Her abusive behaviour,
A roll up fierce,
To strengthen someone’s hand,
A figurist Rockumentary,
To fall foul of forward,
To make one’s fortune.
Her abusive behaviour,
Gleaming on soft tips,
Rolling a golden orange,
Under a necklace petals,
To remove the scales
From someone’s eyes.
Mothers Day always trips sadness
in me since her death years ago;
impelling a circuitous
journey of memories that flow
within a stream of consciousness
always the same, unabated.
It’s ***** how an act of congress
can regress a mind effected
in such a way as to cause tears.
I guess stranger things have happened
and will happen over the years.
Though measured in nanoseconds
these yearly memories of her
are all that remains of mother.
Ephemera hung from the philosopher’s stoned mind
A plethora of rubies dangled at the heart of suspense
Diaphanous souls mingled at crossroads of thought
Seeping miasma and fragrance cutting diamond’s edge
Archetypes flowing at the rubicon of incisive return
16th February 2020
I chose the words in bold for no reason other than they came to my mind. Let me
call it stream of consciousness, or poetry in motion ...
I must maintain I much prefer poems
which do amuse yet elucidate
with alliteration plus a fun pun
to enlighten and or educate
double meaning yes indeed
metaphorically speaking
a clever endeavour is all I need
for word-play tweaking
and no quibbling I refrain from reading
stream of consciousness scribbling
with neither rhyme nor reason
a smattering of words dribbling
altho' meaningless all the rage
scattering in wobbly lines
Pollock-like across the page