Short Wreaked Poems
Short Wreaked Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Wreaked by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Wreaked by length and keyword.
Biodiversity
Wisdom insured life
Man wreaked havoc on nature.
Spitting in God’s face.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
February 14, 2010
Poetic form: Haiku
Some ancient intellect
peruses the dreamscapes in your mind.
Havoc yet to be wreaked,
but promised just the same.
Can you access this encryption,
can you discern some meaning?
Your thought-stream reaches out to mine;
I feel the cold hand upon my neck.
Ravishing Rosie Redbud raced red roadsters rapidly down the roadside.
Racing recklessly, Rosie Redbud rammed Roger Reynold's red ranger,
resulting in ruined wrecks and a raving, ranting Roger.
Ravishing Rosie wreaked havoc with tongues.
For Gwen's Tongue Twister contest
There once was a couple of brats
who engaged in continuous spats.
The result was a tie
when each scratched out an eye -
an old-Biblical tit for a tat!
The brats awoke bleeding and weak
when, half-seeing the havoc they’d wreaked,
they discarded their clothes,
their behinds to expose -
a new-Biblical turning of cheek!
1991
A year of tears and pain
Everything lost
Only fear to gain
A man with bad intentions
Wreaked havoc on my home
Set it a blaze
And cut me to the bone
House still standing
But the belly was destroyed
Always looking for answers
To try to fill the void
When I would see it in the distance
I felt broken hearted
But I have memories
Of where it all started
Form:
There once lived a gambler named Dino
who was terribly fond of vino.
Since he’d drink and play bad,
and lose all that he had,
he was loved at every casino.
But drunk as a skunk, that guy Dino
wreaked havoc one evening in Reno.
Now his vices he’s licked
after being drop-kicked
by a mafia guy named Gino.
Written June 18, 2011
For Francine Robert's "Bottle of Wine" Contest
the gun shoots
runners off
one step two step
running with the stride like no other
it passes the 10k mark
my mind is daft
my body chaffed and burnt
at 13 miles and I get a second wind
I am indulging in what I do
fatigue is not an option,
20th mile I'm sore and wreaked
with my conscience I endure
finally, I can see the finish
I cross the line and collapse
that's me sorted
my time here is done
And the children cried out to their Maker
Bless us Lord, we receive Your loving peace
They all clamered 'round about Him
Singing and dancing, the Lord was pleased
They came upon a leper
His body wreaked, his eyes were dim
He dare not raise his eyes to Jesus
He was crippled but he really loved Him
Finally they left, the sun was low
There was chatter, good things had happened
They bragged how Jesus loved them so
Some people say it claws its way out the artist like a demon
As if ripping his soul instead of flesh
Then fervor bursts like blood
So that a painting anthropomorphizes
How then will the canvas look like
If the stirring’s wreaked by the lord of hell?
How will the music ring if Diablo clobbers the drum?
Will there be songs or only blares of Armageddon?
I LUST TO WRITE POEMS.
THIS PEN ITCHES FOR YOUR BLOOD!
Sometimes when my mind's lazy I think of you
The times that happen are getting quite few
Wreaked havoc on my heart
What the storm did in its path
Sadistically rape my love
Then offered a black dove
Forged a degree to get by
A degree you have to lie
How does knowledge make gold
When there's a hole in the shoe sole
Shame on you big professor
You play my money and me a sucker
Me the poor illiterate woman
Fed clothes and shelter the educated man
The Westward Wind
The westward wind whistled,
As it whisked wildly pass,
Weeping willow trees.
Weary eyed women watched,
As winters wayward wrath,
Wreaked havoc through its breeze.
Waffling warm winds weaving,
As wounded workers,
Walked, the winding path.
Wailing Whippoorwills whispered,
Welcoming words of warmth,
From the westward winds aftermath!
Written: 3/17/16 ©
Submitted for contest: Elements Part 2: Wind
Sponsored by: Brian Davey
Out of sight and ought of mind is a philosophy vain,
It holds not a bit between friends of standing;
(Not even between enemies, again!)
The more time takes you from sight,
Much more your thoughts arrest my mental train;
And I can’t help but pen this rhyme,
To treat the wound wreaked by time.
Till again we meet these two observe:
Remember your Savior upon the Calvary tree,
And the others a kind request of love,
That you please pray for me!
She cursed the world and all its people
As she drowned within her pain.
She sank beneath Hate’s reeking smog
As Fear wreaked havoc in her brain.
The sun comes out and spreads its warmth.
Love’s healing rays still cannot reach her.
The walls she’s built block out the sun,
And her loneliness consumes her.
The days go by and turn to years,
But for this child it’s far too late.
All that remains is a wisp of smoke –
The stench of all-consuming hate.
© Cherie January 2000