Short Top(A) Poems
Short Top(A) Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Top(A) by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Top(A) by length and keyword.
A Tall Tale
Dragons fly on by
Through the rye
Through the sky
So, so, so high
On top, a guy
Loosen the tie
It is my, he must die
A tale, a lie
A sigh,
My, oh my
Clean cut crisp cabbage
Onion diced quite small.
Lets get the carrot grated
Engage the taste buds all.
Salad cream or mayonnaise
Lemon juice for zest.
All on top a baked potato
What a feast the best.
A top a mountain
Pointed above the clouds covered
In powdery snow
Himalaya sky
Hard to breathe must be to high
Hold on to the rope
I don't wanna fall
Cuz I might fall on the goat
What's funny bout that
Fell broke the goat's neck
1/3/18
by James Edward Lee Sr.
the impression
of a cold nip
ple express
ed then re
vealed
a cherry a
top a doll
op of
choc
olate
it's not
what you
think for it
is just a fore
ground for in
the back
ground a
round
world
eye
above a
tongue that
runs the rim
of her upper
lip
winks
Form:
É TOP - A mágica das palavras
Na vida e nos negócios
ontem, hoje e sempre
o verdadeiro segredo da magia
é ser feita de palavras.
Se você conhece as palavras
você pode se libertar,
você pode
fazer o que quiser.
Acompanhe-me
conheça as palavras
liberte-se;
faça o que quiser;
inclusive mais e mais!
Lay this poet down
When the time arrives
In a field of fresh cut words
On a bed of softened rhyme
Fell free to cover me
From my head down to my feet
In a poetic form to keep me warm
Perhaps a blanket of allegory
Place a silken sonnet pillow
Underneath my weary head
In a field of fresh cut words
On top a rhyming bed
I’d rather be found,
on top a mountain
to see a landscape,
no artist could paint.
I'd rather be seen
in clear blue water,
warmed by the equator,
no pool can imitate.
I want to sail oceans,
me against Poseidon.
to fly like Icarus,
and sore into the blue.
But I am Tantalus,
trapped by my own chains,
my wings are burning,
and I drown.
The hamburger's only a craving I had
to money I spent on flavour they add.
A bun 'top a pickle and a taste of dill,
then napkins and a tray with receipt to thrill.
From service through a window with a light grey-blue
to seating at a table meant for four will do.
A vision of a burger being chomped in air
is just another feeling that your gut won't share.
I gave ZZ Top a trim, my lying uncle said.
He could not say it straight. His face got all red.
We found the evidence after he was long dead.
“Look at this!” yelled my lying cousin Little Ned.
“Come on!” I said as I stared at the pick.
This has to be some kind of Uncle Tommy trick!
No way had ZZ Top come to this one-cat town.
But we still haul that stupid photograph around.
Early morning,
too, too early.
Highway clear,
no other cars
on this long, black
ribbon into space.
Gas gage reaches
for empty
Nose pretends
to be a sieve,
no tissues in my purse.
Stress builds.
I top a rise, descend
into a valley of color.
Fall’s brilliant hues
burst into my vision,
steal my breath.
Thank you, Father.
Tap me on the shoulder
any time you please.
He sits on top a dusty shelf;
his care when he showed none.
I think you gave me your
unwanted gifts.
And yet this
the only thing
you gave my family,
better than a beating.
I forgive you because
you are a fellow human,
but I hate you.
I hate how you remind me
that my family is jealous.
I hate how I have to hold
onto you; I don't want you.
You old, dusty,
boxed race truck;
I don't want you.
On my deck
I sit and look
A pen, some paper
On top a book.
Listen closely
Nothing there
The wind so free
It blows my hair.
Eyes close slightly
I see dreams
Silence only
Just night screams.
Even the moon
Is afraid
Nobody talking
No music played.
Tic tic toc
No place to go
Quiet looms
Enjoy the glow.
Battle the thoughts
Invading my mind
This is heaven
Beauty defined.
Listening to the news, I started off
Listening to the blues
im going come on top, a little bit higher
im going start one of a lttle bit harder
A new breed of hygine
Every exact little thing taken up by everything
Take it a level higher
Just nothing is going to happen tonight
No action will occur
though some may not understand it
and some may not be able to stand it
a night of nothing
NO ACTION
Form:
They were innocent in their wish-making today
In grandma’s attic, two young cousins, Josie and Jay.
Solemn ceremony for them, not merry or gay.
They recited a chant, hoping it was the right way.
The jack-o-lantern alter began making an odd sound.
It flung them into a corner, over and upside down.
I felt like a Halloween top, a buffoon, a clown.
Said Jay but Josie laughed and said, “I loved spinning around!”
BOYS
Moving, ever still,
Or so it seems, until
You find him
Thinking,
On top a fence,
Up in a tree,
Or grassy hill.
Dirt and grime,
It seems, until a time
You find him
Washing,
Slick down hair,
Brushing teeth,
For dollar or dime.
Strong and rough,
You’ve had enough,
Then you find him
Helping,
Carrying a bag,
Tender nurse,
When times are tough.
Copyright, Kathryn Search
A tackle trunk beneath a tree.
It's knurled top a bright red-brown.
A rod leaned up against it's side
bought at a store from the next town.
A magic moment held in time
by elves for parents that I pride,
but not for gifts at Christmas time;
for thoughts abound and in their stride.
The tree Blue Spruce with silver boughs
seen standing still in vacant air.
The room aglow with warmth and wishes.
The first to view as though a prayer.
Bob, a poor boy that has nothing; will not bow down to any king
Dad, his Lady, and old Nana too; do not know what Bob can do
With a strong faith, Bob walks blindly; a path of Divinity finally
Bringing a poor boy to a giant hill, on top a big bright void to fill
God and only Son, Christ, cry; as BOB is watching and slowly walking by
Looking back, thinking "Shall I ?"
Inspired by Nikko Palmario's Contest " Life without U & Me "
On an early day in late spring,
as dragonflies dance and birds sing,
on top a dock where I've grown fond,
butterflies gather by the pond
Cattails sway in the morning breeze,
as do the crowns of nearby trees,
this view I see the world beyond,
butterflies gather by the pond
As ripples in the water form,
and playful fish frolic in swarm,
without words we all correspond,
butterflies gather by the pond
On an early day in late spring,
butterflies gather by the pond.
Fruit and nut i n f u s e d , so
flavourful and liquored.
Favorite Christmas TREAT !
Flour, nuts, fruit combined, and
for three weeks B R A N D Y laced.
Frosty cream top- a real,
family TRADITION.
_______________
December 10, 2016
Poetry/Pleiades/Verse/Fruitcake
Copyright Protected, ID 16-856-900-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, My Merry Christmas Party
Pleiades Contest, sponsor, Andrea Dietrich
Third Place