Short Throttles Poems
Short Throttles Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Throttles by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Throttles by length and keyword.
Elmo Elmo was an elephant seller
He kept a white elephant in the cellar
He swigged all the bottles
Down a hundred throttles
And was turned into a big screw propeller
Elmo Elmo (C) rajat kanti chakrabarty
2014
Catching air with you was grand
Our course was preplanned
Three wheels and miles of blow sand
Geared up with throttles in hand
Twin ATVs taming barren land
Never acknowledging the dangers at hand
Airborne alone where did you land
Pearl, you are a diamond
I guess she always knew it.
A proper little helper,
helping through and through it.
She never gives a cheerio
or leaving like a plane.
She's always there to scatter sunshine
Even in the rain.
Pearl, you are a diamond
That no one can replace,
Chocking back the throttles
Just like a necker-lace.
Angry eyes lurk in the forest
Deep within the Deathly Hollows
With unsuspected fervency
And malevolence it closely follows
An apparition from the grave
A vision from nightmarish dreams
With nimble hands that quickly throttles
And icy fingers that stifles screams
None who enters survives this realm
So menacing and devoid of light
In the Deathly Hollows murky mist
Still is the air and cold is the night
I SEE THE CHRIST
As life blows; death whistles
As the brave strikes; the naive throttles
No use celebrating my muscles
This too will fizzle
I won’t catch my breathe
I lost not near earth
Better was I at birth
As bare, without a t-shirt
When will the dogs bleat?
I lay watch with sight
When will the sheep bark?
I say this with right
These and more I see
Like many on sand’s sea
My anchor; my capital C
Christ, my only sight to see
THE INVINCIBLE PEN
In froths of a sky never ever ending,
she throttles like a half—shelled woman
slow to prance in the midst
of obedient breeze,
her movement wrapped
like a hundred cider vines...
How orange are her nights.
This hue burnt by sways
of corrugated leaves ; a crown
adorned with pearlized sequins
turning tangerine in kaleidoscopic
swirls of atumnal hues, this drift of
charmed elegance only fall can muster.
Seasonal Bliss Contest, Regina Riddle
Few words don't meet the same line.
But life still meets the final sentence.
Every thread of survival needs to be cut.
A few drops of voice need to keep it shut.
His head throttles to death.
Not every help is heard to be sent.
And all the flowers in the coffin laid the scent.
All his will that wrote had on his consent.
Today, the grave finally sleeps.
And every drop of penny has already kept.
Not a single gold has been waste.
Only the young widow found a night to taste.
Set sail in feathered ships.
Guided by shattered stars and bent sextants.
A little white tempest becomes a black water witch.
Hatched from a devil's chrysalis.
Sails are whipped and torn in half.
Fashion a crucifix from a broken mast.
Souls churn upon Poseidon's spitz.
Slothful morning arrives.
Amidst the frothy angel tide.
An armada of prayers ignites.
Unable to buoy any sign of life.
The last candle flickers in the reeds.
Search and rescue throttles down to recovery.