Short Wash Up Poems
Short Wash Up Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Wash Up by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Wash Up by length and keyword.
Feeling unkempt and dirty
In need of a cleansing to the core
Jump in the big blue ocean
Wash up on a distant shore.
Corpses wash up on a distant shore
Crowded train station shelters
Psychological trauma
Personal needs of children
Go begging in the rain
The dream of freedom
Keeps hope alive
How many will survive?
Your Love
Its foreign to me
I find myself
In Beijing
I swum
Through life
To wash up
Upon your body
I lay my head
Gently
On your tummy
The sun
Beating down
Upon this
Foreign shore
I ‘am tired
For I swum
Against the tied
Limpio, clean up for las trabajadoras
Aqui treinta minutos, I tidy dos horas
Lavo y wash up so they won’t abhor us
Storming mi casa with vacuums in chorus
Valientes, these small but brave luchadoras
Es lunes - vienen las trabajadoras!
some nights
the stars
seem so close
they all seem
within reach
in the morning
pieces of your
heart wash up
up on the beach
sometimes
an open heart
like an open sky
by the sunset
will get burned
to you my love
was a broken toy
that couldn't be
returned
Mom's on the warpath,
"Get inside and take a bath"
(She says she wants us clean).
"Then put on your PJs and go to bed."
I turned that logic on its head.
(I'll tell you what I mean.)
Why should we wash up when
we'll just get dirty once again?
(That's using the 'ol bean!)
It’s time to concede.
It’s time to recede.
And wash up.
Onto an island that's about to erupt.
With chaos and fights.
So I must hope with all my might.
That if I behave unlike the others.
Who are treated like just another-
Hopeless, and evil fool.
We all thought we were cool.
Until we were taken from reality.
Into hospitality.
Friend. You have eyes of gold
That shine for no one but you.
You’re too sad to see the truth.
Dead emotions drown
Future dreams.
Sad friend, your eyes
Wash up blue upon me
Drowning me
I gurgle in search
Of that precious breath
That would lead me back to (the real) you.
Stop styling your hair there
And let me taste the
Sweet waters in your
Original scheme.
If peace was like a river then it would not be peace
It would just be a shiver that is mistaken for bliss
All the cataract's all the wavers,it would not cease for your pleas
Shouts and screams chanting save her,but it's all in your dreams
Musical notes such as quavers,wash up your nightmares wash off your sins
Relieve the pain relieve the danger, hold my hand though am a stranger
If peace was like a river then it would not be peace
It would just be a shiver that is mistaken for bliss
All the cataract's all the wavers,it would not cease for your pleas
Shouts and screams chanting save her,but it's all in your dreams
Musical notes such as quavers,wash up your nightmares wash off your sins
Relieve the pain relieve the danger, hold my hand though am a stranger
The day seemed quiet, not a sound.
I stepped outside to watch a goat pass by,
the focus of his vision toward the ground.
I sensed that he was lonely, even shy;
for as he trod his head hung really low.
I asked him if he'd join me for some tea,
it seemed he had no other place to go.
If chamomile was to his like 'twas free.
I insisted he wash up and wear a blouse --
indignant he got up and left the house.
Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate,
Beyond any imagination,
A quiet destination.
A place filled with peace and love,
Warm with sunshine streaming
From dark clouds above.
Where waves crash upon the sands,
Wash up onto the crown lands
Of Kings and Queens long ago,
And windows within castles still glow.
These tales; could it be real?
A place civilization forgot,
How would one feel?
My laden desk filled by the spilling
Of lipstick gritted cigarette butts
From my ashtray. Piles of grey
Gathering and merging with the
Dust around my typewriter.
A single golden earring, sits
By my now empty hand as I
Extinguish another finished ***.
And memories rot, around the
Unused airline ticket, when I
Wasted my opportunity to go
After the only one who had ever
Given me the ability to write.
Waves wash up ,
Palms paper the sky ;
Indulging impossible bliss ,
Shopping,Savoring sunshine
Flakes fall freely
White Window displays wishing ,
grass greener on that side,
likewise, the flip side applies
Not natural? No never!
Wicked grins, warm weather;
I give up gloves gleefully ,
Scarves ,snow, seasonal
Wouldn't want it any other way;
Better ,basking , baking,
Sunglasses, slightly sun-kissed
Warm Winter Holidays
I feel like a cup.
A cup that is always full,
But is always leaking.
Pouring the happiness in,
Only to see it slowly make its way back out.
Temporary fulfillment.
Plastic smiles.
Everyone claims it will get better in a while.
But no one knows for sure.
It is like drowning in the ocean,
But everyone believes you will wash up on shore.
They believe happiness is always in sight.
So if you believe it, I believe it, right?
When the family gather at our home
They stay awhile -they're from out of town
We sit down to a home cooked meal
Then wash up our plates from the meal
After all done computers come out
Everyone on them at the same time
Except for me,I don't touch mine
Hoping to set an example for the
I look around and see no reaction
Feeling so sad nothing had changed
Wondering how it turned out this way
There is no conversation like before now
I love collecting shells at the ocean; below the pier, I find the tiny ones, sharks teeth and teensy starfish, from which I enjoy making jewelry. They wash up in the waves and lay there; piling up over time. I don’t have to dig very deep, to find them; they’re small enough not to sink down in drenched sand. Ocean offers many surprises, such as these.
ocean gives up her gifts
her offspring-
captivating jewelry.
She smiles with an inherent sadness in her eyes...
Like she's said far too many goodbyes...
I know it can never be like before...
Although those dreams still wash up upon my shores...
I feel that it's almost time to go...
She's the star but always misses the show...
Her flame I will carry, and it will never go out...
I will stay true to her, despite her doubts...
And if I never see my angel again...
I don't think my heart would ever mend...
Sweet tears of sorrow streaming down,
I feel your warm embrace.
Falling as you break the strings
that hold my heart in place.
Dreams that wander aimlessly,
like a beggar with no home,
wash up on lifeless shore
to fade - to die alone.
Hope that comes from an empty heart
depends on fortune's call.
Never to find a lasting peace,
not seeking Heaven's thrall.
entered in Becca Teagan's - Make Me Feel It - poetry contest
written June 26, 2016
we forged a bridge of friendship
constructed it of heaviest steel
and the river of injustice
flows freely underneath
no undertow or crashing waves
wash up on grassy banks
serenity floating softly
for the fishes that swim there
hand in hand we walk across
this structure that we made
freedom of heart and wisdom of mind
waits on the other side
the iniquities and the dreams
of what could never be
covered with moss on glossy rocks
is all we leave behind
I scream at my self on a Tuesday afternoon...
I get so lost in my head...
I drag my torment like an anvil through the sludge...
My sanity is all but dead...
I ignore the voices from eight to five...
They just get louder as the night wares on...
I bob and float in a tide of despair...
I search for my mind, but it's long gone...
I'm at my end... I can't take much more...
All my doors are locked and the windows barred;
but dreams of normalcy still wash up on my shores...
Do you ever feel weak, but gutsy all at the same time.
It feels wrong but right,
Sudden and sweet in ways you can't explain
Crying won't help and you almost don't want to
When you realize
This isn't how I want it to be
Move with the water not wash up on shore like the salty tide
Be free and alive
Make it so it doesn't hurt
Make it so you can look at yourself
Want to be the person you see
Want to look at the world through
Shades you were only meant to see through
SWEET TEARS of SORROW
Sweet tears of sorrow streaming down,
I feel your warm embrace.
Falling as you break the strings
that hold my heart in place.
Why do some dreams wander aimlessly,
like a beggar with no home.
Then wash up on a lifeless shore
to fade...and lie alone.
Hopes that come from a lonely heart
depend on fortune's empty call.
Never able to receive God's peace,
left to live in dead Heaven's pall.
Francis J Grasso 06.24.2016