Short Topples Poems
Short Topples Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Topples by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Topples by length and keyword.
Improper placement of a soup spoon
topples a marriage gone wrong
Recalling your voice in a war zone
keeps my heart beating strong
It echoes in me
For her voice topples me all
Am I in trouble
- for you mamibeah
Young James always appears to be lazy.
Due to inertness, his mind gets hazy.
To the pool, he makes a tread.
Into it, he dips his head.
Losing his grip, he topples. How crazy!
Autumn's decay, brown leaves fall,
Corruption topples, governments lose all,
Righteousness fades, none stand tall,
Greed and cruelty erode trust's wall,
In this world, justice lies fallen.
Albeit, the time truck topples
Through the tracks ranges; roving
Mitt, making the switfness subtle.
The time combustion caresses the
Manhood of my pathos peck no-strings.
19:04:24:15:15
Crabbing Ahead in Topples
Creepy the crab longed to walk straight ahead
But his lanky legs spread, side to side led.
The skips he tried were all flops
The same can be said for his hops.
But with his topples, he tumbled ahead instead.
Stray sheep play hide-and-seek
Knit one, Purl one, Knit Two together
Pick up a stitch, before it slips, and runs
Intertwining it, lest the pattern unravels
and the wayward flock topples over the cliff.
For sheep astray will play
with a wondering lust for wandering.
Winter topples the
sting
of muddled tongue.
The bottle
breaks the stasis
of eye.
I cede the smile
of history.
Somebody has left the home.
I become my enemy
in dark
for the acid taste of truth.
The moon
had the malignant stain.
My shirt has become dirty.
O god,
I never believed in you
nor in your ugly world !
Satish Verma
P-earl of the orient,
H-ome to mixed races with
I-ndigenous inhabitants
L-iving
I-nterdependently,
P-rided with rich
P-atrimony,
I-nherited customs and traditions and
N-atural resources, graced by
E-xquisite maiden beauties and competitive human
S-pirit that topples down even the strongest storm.
September 13, 2022
Can't sleep once again because of power interruption. I'm glad I thought of penning this.
The bones are loud and heavy
they don't like exercise anymore.
The treadmill chugs along
while vertigo topples unready toes.
Nothing can push these bones along,
time has filled them with concrete,
the rubble of marathons once run.
A young woman sprinting effortlessly
beside me smirks my way
as I stumble through a flat-footed mile.
Maybe she cannot see her future yet
while mine is clearly
painted on a wall I will soon hit.
She drowns herself in pints and quarts
And finds solace in liquor bottles
She uses it to mend her broken hearts
Though she stumbles and topples
She decides her fate with alcohol
And speaks through sealed lips
And harshness bounces off her breath like a wall
After she has had a few sips
But dear God bless the tongue of the drunken
Lady, gentleman or naïve child
Blinded by the bliss of wild desires,
Wasted away like rubbish beguiled.
Form:
Normal is the space between horror realised and glory assumed, when the lust of the eye is calmed and briefly quenched by complacency.
Normal is the monent between remembering and forgetting the evil done in the name of good, when pride and selfrighteousness overwhelms compassion and decency.
Normal is the dreaming season before the swell of power and arrogance takes us once more to the very edge of hope, then topples us into war.
Normal is the waiting time.