Short Wrangled Poems
Short Wrangled Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Wrangled by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Wrangled by length and keyword.
Weathered skin
Bleeding, broken nails
A rip in the heart
From a soulless creature
Life beat her up
With no mercy
And as she wrangled
With herself
He mended her
Ephemeral existence
Form:
An evil kangaroo poacher from Perth
Rousted rare 'roos for all they were worth.
But, one day as he wrangled,
In his noose he got tangled,
Now of kangaroo poachers from Perth there's a dearth.
TANGLED IN TANTRUM
Wrangled
Tangled
Mangled
Strangled
Never to have wrangled! Tangled nest.
Hair forever mangled. Strangled crest.
8/17/2017
Form T Contest
Chosen word: Tangled
Form Used: Tyburn
A blessed soul has won a role, The Prince of Peace,
Of noble birth, a novice born a blue-blood,
Pontificate average those brevities,
Stemmed full of thorns wrangled beneath his rosebud.
Won The Papal States, Mona Lisa smiled, lost,
His tenure was mired in doubts--parts that he crossed,
A scorned tag as unfortunate of the popes,
A Florentine, a Medici, useless hopes.
Surface living;
Delving with thought
Shallow inclined; no further
A beetle's truth-quester
One inch, mould-wrought!
The infinite
And what, behind
Its night-hung veil, bespangled
For souls of men have wrangled
Light's, dark's winged grind
A mystery
Left. With relief!
Which strain, high, deep prying mind's
But exceeded by those finds;
Mail's o'ercharged grief!
The Feeling of Fishing while Floating
Is Graded on Goading, and Gloating
Bystanders oft blindly believe
In salmon the size of my sleeve
Tall Tales at the Time Told True
In Grandeur they Gained and they Grew
But my Rod and Reel won't Remember
Come the Dread and the Din of December
And by the Time I again Tell my Tale
I Will have Wrangled Ahab's White Whale
2/13/11
I know I'm 41 now,
But the kid just trying to be silly,
Make people laugh,
Make them lose themselves,
Find themselves,
That kid is still manning the controls.
He gets nudged, knocked, wrangled at times
But we all know, all those outboarded
Shadowy figments know, he's the only one
Who can make a spark in the reaching darkness.
In fact he renames the darkness and calls it a blessing.
I could see untamed in her fiery eyes.
But I'm way past prime, no need for a wild ride.
I wrangled one once upon a time.
Tried to make her into a lady.
Taming that bucking star
was emotional suicide.
If I could do it all over again
I'd toss the saddle, rope and bit.
Spur her hard on the flanks
Roughly navigate those pouty lips.
Buck her until I spilled my brains,
jump off and never go back.
The history of this moment
Parallel in all decision recharted
A final glance revealed
Chimerical, each flight through dazzling entry
Urgent not to be left alone
Buried, the skies peel from their gaze
Criminal to walk out each square and peg
Lost beyond inner butterfly of space
Leaping circus rings and beast wrangled
The last bastion of you to me
Free without a second
The birth or uncovering
Falling deep between the years
Listen to poem:
Let me be open to be startled
to let the unexpected in,
to be surprised, astonished, shocked,
wide open to action happening in peripheral view.
Let me be open to strangeness
by looking for difference and oddity
with laser cutter eyes
slicing away the clutter
of mundane sameness.
Let me be startled by strangeness,
glad to be jostled and jangled,
disturbed and wrangled
to action and reaction,
by being receptive
and willingly open.
Penning wrangled mime
and wared out of my skits,
I’m poked in serspiration,
My mind’s in fisted twits.
It’s not the way I spike to leak;
I’ve turned to try it down.
Still I'm rilled with florious grime,
so nothing dings me brown.
We poets are a lazy crot,
voiling with turds and worse.
Roping with the fools of corm,
dinditions so reverse.
A hong lot toke in the sub
might dude me a girl of wood.
Or how about a bun at the reach?
Well, I can’t wet a gay, but I should.