Short Surface(A) Poems
Short Surface(A) Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Surface(A) by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Surface(A) by length and keyword.
under the deep sea
we are
disconnected
the surface a dream
rebreathing
totally dependent
freedom of movement
fins growing on the feet
buoyency is controlled
life is beautiful
Form:
In twilight sleep, dreams flow deeply, through mind-halls.
Caverns and crevasses hold many memories; some of past lives.
Inundated with dreamscapes, memories float and surface, a mind-soul reunion.
Sayings
In a country of
Bald people
The wig maker is
The king
If throwing a stone
At the moon
That floats on
The surface a lake
You will shatter
A beautiful image
And ask
What the hell did
I do this for?
Motherhood
Even if female
Crocodiles
Are good mother
It doesn´t make them
More cuddly
The lake is black, high country water,
ocular.
Beneath the surface, a species
reflected in an amniotic sky.
There are three here,
three progenitors
searching for the lost children
of mankind: -
water, sky and
that which watches.
Three wombs that wait expectantly.
The water stirs,
something born too deep
wants to emerge.
Let it!
if I was just a drop
Would that it would be you could see that I was spot-on
Right on the surface I formed caught
A spot the positive on the surface formed
Just a spot
I wroth, I shoot I shot the surface
Soiled a spilled slots
On the surface a piece of gravity substance
Falling costs
As if it were it was just a drop
12/18/20
Written word by James Edward Lee Sr 2020
A crinkled shore on the Upper Peninsula.
We are hunting Golden Eagles
cameras at the ready.
You find a small stone.
On its surface, a
crimp and cockle depiction
of wind and waves
has rucked up an impression
of an eagle in flight.
"Just water-wear."
I say.
You throw it back into Lake Huron,
won’t hold my hand,
won’t even look at me,
until I admit the possibility
of divinely inspired crinkles.
A crinkled shore on the Upper Peninsula.
We are hunting Golden Eagles.
You find a small stone.
On the surface, a crimp and cockle
of wind and waves
has rucked an impression
of an eagle in flight.
“It's only ripple art, not even
a good depiction,
just water-wear. “
I say.
You throw it back into Lake Huron,
won’t hold my hand,
won’t even look at me,
until I admit the possibility
of divine crinkles.
Memories surface,a requiem of
sounds,heaving emotions realign,
words recalled speak volume from
deep within , and live again on a trail
of nows then wash nostalgia’s face
with random spontaneity from
the unconscious mind.The house
full of yesterdays,books that filled
wet Wednesdays,cross-stitched hours
upon the wall.Eclectic collected
moments,sentiments,priceless,unique
and irreplaceable,this smell of love
percolating into endless tomorrows
Memories surface,a requiem of
sounds,heaving emotions realign,
words recalled speak volume from
deep within , and live again on a trail
of nows then wash nostalgia’s face
with random spontaneity from
the unconscious mind.The house
full of yesterdays,books that filled
wet Wednesdays,cross-stitched hours
upon the wall.Eclectic collected
moments,sentiments,priceless,unique
and irreplaceable,this smell of love
percolating into endless tomorrows.
Riches
Rampant beneath
The surface, a body
Dressed in curves, hard edges, and sea
Bounty.
Goodness
That is needed
By the masses, a gift,
Yet used for self gain carelessly
A rift.
By those
Who pursue greed
Seeking gains and power
Without the checks and balance of
Nature.
We see
The ugly truth
Over the globe, high bill
Of disasters and waste so crude
Oil Spills.
By CarolineCécile
Copyright © 06.29.10
For the Team Poetry Soup contest.
On its surface a crimp and cockle
of a purling tide have rucked an impression
on a stone.
We are here to find Eagles
but the sky is too low and the wind too high.
You show the image on the stone
as if this were the very thing
we had been looking for.
I look at it squint eyed:
could be a crow
You throw the stone into Lake Huron,
won’t hold my hand
won’t speak again
until I admit to the endless possibilities
of crinkles, tides and wind
to produce
magical eagles.