Short Xix Poems

Short Xix Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Xix by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Xix by length and keyword.


Premium Member CLERIHEW ecphrasis XIX

Joan Miro of Brcelona
a very individual personna
His 'Red Disk' * from ninteen-sixty
saturated poetic symbolist artistry
art
Form: Ekphrasis


Makita Xix: Fawn Song

An array of flavor
Paints our summer scene
With the striking colours
That in time the two of us
Like fawns had grown to cherish
Aristocratic and original
Was the infinite portrait
Form: Verse

A Hundred Poems - Xix

IF I were 
a broken soul
who could mend me?
The cobbler down the road?
With his crafty skills and many tools,
the awl or maybe stretching tool?
He surely would know
-- and should I go?
My shoes, so worn but my soul so full
of these empty holes!  
My Cobbler, sir! 
Repair my soul,insufferably
 i plead!

:: ~~ ::

Xix: More Epistles Are Waiting?

Sir –
More epistles are waiting:
Redress the truck-pusher first
Before speeching at the truck!

Sir –
Excursions are forced for a lull
Into further excursions 
Coaxed by the vicar’s levity!

More epistles are waiting:
Addressed to the strong sister
Whose redsear in a nurture crypt
Marked a new devotion to the deity.
© Canny Amah  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

A Hundred Poems Xix

IF I were 
a broken soul
who could mend me?
The cobbler down the road?
With his crafty skills and many tools,
the awl or maybe stretching tool?
He surely would know
-- and should I go?
My shoes, so worn but my soul so full
of these empty holes!  
My Cobbler, sir! 
Repair my soul,insufferably.
 I plead!

::12-24-2013::


Premium Member Life With Trump Xix

This is meant to be read with a French accent to aid the rhyme scheme:

WikiLeaks has tapes with Assange
Where Donald asks Vlad to arrange 
More Russian hookers
Who are the best lookers
To pee and tint Trump’s hair orange


Author's note: His die hard supporters should be required to die their hair orange too. At least that would be funny.
Form: Limerick

living in a nightmare, XIX

illusion of a palmful of pills and confirmation clicks for the make-believe bliss
leave a mocking kiss on my delusional cheeks

smile for the lover's hiss because everybody sleeps
at the point the lies will blow out of your lips

then he stopped caring without an early notice
dry drawn hearts and unpaid fees

forever comes a long road, difficult to accomplish
if you are to stay, your soul's to be vanished.
© Cemre Guru  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

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