Short Wrings Poems
Short Wrings Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Wrings by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Wrings by length and keyword.
1
sunflowers ring
teenagers ChatGPT
Sapphic know-how
2
her décolleté blouse
and see-through saree—
curve’s vanity
3
a curled snake
with fangs ready to poison
love’s narrow passage
4
sky’s canvas-
disfigures in no time
my funny face
5
she wrings her hair
rising from the lake:
rural Venus
--R.K.Singh
Categories:
wrings, beauty, nature, relationship, vanity,
Form:
Haiku
He stands alone against a wind beaten sky
And wrings his hands for want of why
Rage at things that could have been
And others that are rarely seen
For truth like justice can be hard to find
But in the end do you really mind
Just take what happens in the end
For happiness is a pretence can be hard to pretend.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Categories:
wrings, happiness,
Form:
Ballad
I REALLY don't know why
Can't figure it out
This wrings my thoughts
Why do I still want to try?
I know what will happen,
Been there before
Somehow I feel like gave up to soon
Maybe it's just my desire for more
I've never been one to settle
I know it's a lost battle
I don't like the feeling of defeat
Knowing that on that end,
I'm the center of the heat
Categories:
wrings, life,
Form:
Rhyme
smashed the drums
wrings sweating hands
boom...boom
trumpet puffed cheeks
notorious red
toot...toot...toot
band sways
feet tapping
spit sprays
silver flute
fame’s up front
poetically sweet
audience yawns; cymbals
crash
dull drums rev it up
2/1/2020
Edward Ibeh’s Yalto Form
Line 1 to 15: 3,4,2,4,5,3,2,3,2,3,3,5,6,1,5 syllables.
Categories:
wrings, music,
Form:
Verse
Spring. Radiant gold rays of sunrise.
Sprinkles surprise from dramatic skies.
Swing heartbeat, flowering Spring,
Stir-up breathtaking flowering buds, it wrings and brings.
Plump long-eared, cotton-tailed bunnies jump,
Zigzag among the green grass and clover, bump
Among yellow daisies, daffodils, and lavender boarder way yonder.
A timeless swing dance among the dawn wonder.
2/29/2024
Categories:
wrings, spring,
Form:
Rhyme
Loneliness.
It wrings the life out of you,
Till you're but a candle at the bottom of the ocean.
Loneliness.
It's the level of hell,
Right below the rubbles of your abandoned existence.
Loneliness.
It's the mother of all these ghosts,
Screaming for life in the deaf crowds of mortals.
Loneliness.
It makes death cry,
With cold souls disturbingly calm between his cracked palms.
Elliepoet
Categories:
wrings, 12th grade, absence, africa, angst,
Form:
I do not know?
Relief
She takes to bed,
winds round his
erstwhile ardent pillow
cooled now by the
meter of cruelty’s clock;
sheets spoilt by life’s air;
she recalls the scent
of him, the pre-washed
grime of his shirt.
Yearning wrings convulse;
fill eyes beneath
quivering lids.
Coax her, blessèd
breeze; take her to the
limbo of pain
where slumber’s analgesic
can soothe the emery
of remembering.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
May 15, 2012
Categories:
wrings, death,
Form:
Free verse
The vampire bats go out on strike,
Cats show dislike,
Refusing to ride through the gloom
On a straw broom.
They’d rather not always be stark
Beasts in the dark,
They tire of the witch-work at times,
And its night-crimes.
Myrcalla wrings withered old hands,
Magic wand stands
Next to a stew-pot of toads—
Caldron explodes.
Explodes—and the room is a soup,
Cats`n bats regroup,
Attacking Myrcalla by turns:
Witch woman… learns.
Categories:
wrings, fantasy
Form:
Verse
The vampire bats go out on strike,
Cats show dislike,
Refusing to ride through the gloom
On a straw broom.
They’d rather not always be stark
Beasts in the dark,
They tire of the witch-work at times,
And its night-crimes.
Myrcalla wrings withered old hands,
Magic wand stands
Next to a stew-pot of toads—
Caldron explodes.
Explodes—and the room is a soup,
Cats`n bats regroup,
Attacking Myrcalla by turns:
Witch woman… learns.
Categories:
wrings, fantasy
Form:
Verse
The vampire bats go out on strike,
Cats show dislike,
Refusing to ride through the gloom
On a straw broom.
They’d rather not always be stark
Beasts in the dark,
They tire of the witch-work at times,
And its night-crimes.
Myrcalla wrings withered old hands,
Magic wand stands
Next to a stew-pot of toads—
Caldron explodes.
Explodes—and the room is a soup,
Cats`n bats regroup,
Attacking Myrcalla by turns:
Witch woman… learns.
Categories:
wrings, fantasy
Form:
Verse
Paint filtered through your pain
and came out as art.
Your broken body bent
under the weight of a brush
but did not succumb, instead
infused the canvas with fiery colours
mixed in the crucible of your heart.
Who knows why Art sometimes
asks for so much, wrings blood
from bone to write its name
across a life. The why we may
never know much less understand,
we can only give thanks
that such exquisite beauty
has bled from a human hand.
Categories:
wrings, art, beauty, pain,
Form:
Free verse
How can it be history,
when the pain leaves me breathless?
Iron past that wrings my lungs
soaked heavy in sorrow
until that mysterious liquid escapes from my eyes.
How can it be past,
when the darkness becomes my shadow?
Harassing smiles and reminding pleasure
that there is no vacancy
within.
How can it be over
when I am covered in those moments?
Microwaving a frozen dinner,
collapsing on the floor with grief
my cat a solitary witness
to this complexity of living.
Categories:
wrings, death,
Form:
Free verse