Spilled Poems - Poems about Spilled

You said You understood Why I wanted to end it And I said I was glad But suddenly I'm not I guess I hoped that you'd fight for us a little more Though I have no right to ask that Seeing as I made the decision I regret it Like you regret drinking tea too quickly On a snowy day Burning the roof of your mouth When...

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Ariana shrugged facing Josh’s mocking clap the stringy harmonica rang acrobatically on the streetlights. He handed her a firebomb, eyes sharp as vinegar. They ran across the hot asphalt, watching the brass kite rise. Both caught in the whirlpool of the maze, they guided the trumpet, mandolin filling the air, sinking into the smokehouse. Her jacket flared,...

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Ariana shrugged facing Josh’s mocking clap the stringy harmonica rang acrobatically on the streetlights. He handed her a firebomb, eyes sharp as vinegar. They ran across the hot asphalt, watching the brass kite rise. Both caught in the whirlpool of the maze, they guided the trumpet, mandolin filling the air, sinking into the smokehouse. Her jacket flared,...

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As The Candle Light Burns Entwined together amid the sounds of the night As the candle burns, making silhouettes in fire's light Eye to eye, roaming fingers, and your sweetest kiss No night could ever be any better than this Lovers lost to the wonders of our poetic dream Sharing wine with juicy berries and whipped cream Two potent souls expressing their...

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No, you cannot turn back time, although you may want to; When a poet writes a new rhyme words capture just how those days flew; Maybe that’s the magic of love; An assortment of building blocks, there is nothing to dispose of; The past plays through an old jukebox; Revisiting moments dug up fitting your life in a puzzle; Spilled art from a...

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When inspiration obstinately runs low, And ink stains drench an old copy. Yet verses silently deny to flow, While thoughts are damn sloppy. And ink stains drench an old copy; As she aspires to get rid of her blues. While thoughts are damn sloppy, Seeking desperately for a muse. As she aspires to get rid of her blues, Her eyes slowly alighted on ethereal...

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It was late afternoon on the 27th of June. I was sitting on my porch, just whistling a tune. Having just returned from a European tour; My bride being tired sat in her chair and snored. I was feeling just a wee bit bored, So headed to Fred’s for evening chores. Now we had just finished milking And I was considering exiting. When...

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Night has spilled it's crimson chalice across the horizon Feathered color spreads along the bottom of the bone white clouds the center ball slips too soon below and from the spilt chalice flows navy darkness....and ever deepening ink creeping and seeping chasing the color down lowing it all away Then from the highest heights piercing ...

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As the sun rises the horizon's soft serrated edges spill vanilla cream; a shrouded girl feels crystal flakes on her face as she walks separate from the group of students within the milled land asleep still within a dream. A tiny abandoned bird's nest is revealed amongst a tree's branches, with berries that cling...the billowy clouds above...

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Owner gone, water bowl has spilled, and my anger is about to burst. I won't die, I thought to myself in the morning, not concerned at first. I accidentally slipped in that water, and my fur is thick and feels icky. I am wet and mad and mean and disappointed and feeling sticky. But licking water off my pretty...

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Spilled. . Spilled an ocean of hurt and anguish Over my lost formative years When my lonely betrayed heart So full of pain couldn’t take no more pain And burst into acid burning tears . The frightened unloved inner child That never saw the sun And never learned to smile And who crawled on broken glass My hands tied My feet chained and bound With an iron clasp . So...

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Craziest Time at the Time of Spilled Soup I spilled a bowl of vegetable soup – Slipped on the shiny waxed floor; The scene I saw made my muse utter expletives – Fainting in horror at the kitchen door. Choruses of carrots crushed on the curtains Prose of Potatoes pelted the windowpanes Lyrics of limas littered the...

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A true writer when consigned to their virus induced self-isolation Might want to consider turning over in bed for hot contemplation Passion cannot be subdued by staying at home for an interim stay But once you have bedsores you can’t even shop for emollient spray If you are lucky to share undercover mission with a like-minded soul Change perspective paradigm...

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I love the wretched words I smile with a simile Silly me Bees are full of care or am i being careful Marking some of the exclamation! Stop has ate too much looking rather full Pause slowly waits comma as you are As i want Youtube 2b has lost its point Trying to let the letters breathe Puncture punctuation and let the words bleed free...

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BOBBY the TODDLER SPILLED THE HOT COBBLER- - The toddler; Stuck his finger in the Cobbler; Burnt his fingers so he then hollered; Before he dropped the bowl on the floor mama grasped him by his collar; 10/21/19 Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019© QUATRAIN POEM TYPE...

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