Short The Crane Poems
Short The Crane Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about The Crane by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about The Crane by length and keyword.
You walk by a plot in a cemetery
You hear a knock, it makes you hairy
Call the crane experts
Help you dig the dirt
Probably just a recently deceased's fairy
Hanging from the crane
is the end-all,
the pitied and plain
inheritor of pain.
It drifts and dangles
in the weak breeze.
You can't turn the pages.
Accept this and die.
Black-headed flowers wear long drooping ruffled petal skirts.
A black crane, statuesque, stands in the tall green grass amongst them.
The tallest flower - distinctively blonde - has arms to touch the crane!
Long necked
with legs like ruby stilts
the crane lifts it wings
to it's side
and dances with little strides
It bobs and hops:
a skipping rope with feathers
then lowers it's wings
to gauge the effect.
Almost like the wind is a critic
It finds a mate.
The Lunatic living in my right brain
painted two ships on the watery horizon.
I folded the image into a paper crane
and it flew into the sea to die in.
The sun went down with a flash of green
and the Lunatic began to laugh
I asked him why he was causing such a scene
and he said the crane was my epitaph.
Stars tumble from shattered edges
Charter in the sounds of daybreak
The other side of the planet
Leave this river after a few drinks
A man's teary eyes
Aiming for the bright lights of the metropolis
It can be seen in the distance
The crane let out a screech
Repairing the ripped sky
Written: March 21, 2023
wanton in disarray
i hug myself in the gray
the smell of rain
beyond my gaze
my dreams were pain
i woke in sweat
i got away
maybe not next
this carries me
as i lay thirsty
I take no shame
keep your mercy
i drink this wine
turns me numb
a gift of grapes
the charms the same
not to some
keep your praise
said the wolf
to the crane
The Hen
Goes cluck cluck cluck
Then comes the Crane
Selling his D refrain
Hen react
The web is cobbled
The spiders finished their jobs
Out come the flies
Nature, tried to defy
He recant
Cyanide kills all the living
Chemical dreams
Make the sane ones scream
Life moves on
Then care no more
As they live in poetic illusions
Or so it seems...
Oh Uganda—
The crane with wings
Spread them wide and fly
Let the wind sing.
Let that shield and spear shine
For you dwell in a land so divine.
With love you all are bound
Let your light be fine.
Shine, oh Uganda, shine
For now is the time
To polish your spear
And get your shield to shine.
From the bustling streets of Kampala
To the far ends of the savannah
Let your rich culture light the way
Shine, oh Uganda, shine.
An ephemeral
loyalty of unity
divides faded pride.
Cosmopolitan
this block upon block monument
shaded by white clouds
enclaved in stains switched
mundane tirades to acclaim
that spades lisp sunk hate.
To the fortunate
the philosophies that form
the thesis relics speak.
A purge that caused the turn
Decades of archivists exhibit it
The berth...the crane it built
Canada's concrete that finished it.
12 Floors of Revolution
Across the river there’s a crane
That’s 30 stories high,
The operator like
A Lego man up in the sky.
As loads are lifted in the air
And gently set in place,
I wish that I could clearly see
That operator’s face.
I know I would be terrified
But likely, he is not.
I cannot fathom how he even
Reached that sky-high spot.
Yet he is up there, hard at work
While safely down below,
I gaze at the construction site
And watch the building grow.