Stricken Poems - Poems about Stricken

It was a late night of the lively day, When I returned from the dance theater, ...

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Checked by www.howmanysyllables.com>syllable_counter "A grave wherever found preaches a short and pithy sermon to the soul.” Nathaniel Hawthorne ************************************************************** ...

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a laugh like thunder shattering a frozen heart ~ be my valentine...

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You start the poem but cannot end it insoluble through teared eyes A whipping wrecking ball swung, slugging your breast striking a sharp chord of melancholy thought hidden a random book, a random page, a random long-forgotten line; yet…...

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Stricken with turbulence at about seventy two inches Yours truly issuing a deafening rebel yell bursting forth with such might courtesy cooking under pressure analogous to volcanic upswell, forcing me quickly to flap vestigial wings (at the speed of sound) while simultaneously karaoking William Tell overture apple lied courtesy top of the line supra-aural ('over the ear') headphones since altruistic anonymous philanthropist gifted me I bought the...

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Stricken with anguished nausea Written three years ago tomorrow, yet superimposed (likened to emotional palimpsest) upon mental state of yore recent post traumatic stress triggered courtesy war torn legally tendered greenbacks, where enemy bonded, heisted, and netted mine life savings, he (who fabricated conspiracy implicating Citizens Bank employees, whereby I fell for hook, line and sinker) unfailingly didst...

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I. Wave the white flags Hold on! Wave them not until we strike the tents of the arch opponent Bent crooked like hell to cave in the rights of pent up souls, rent Who can fix them but one heaven sent? Blessed and crucified, dead and resurrected And all to fulfill the will of the father of light; That all men should repent II. Sleeping...

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The air is clearer up here can almost taste it, heaven knows.. just above the stair where skeins of rope-like hair lie still festering.. all in neat rows. Why was it to be? cast down, why? Here where they don't dream of flying or understand the simple rites.. the good in dying. Years now I wallow among them, though the forest still knows me. Trying a smile...

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There is no god in England (I learned of that this day) For when a man is stricken He has no more to say. He lies in expectation, The end to shortly be, Torment is blindly gazing out Through eyes that barely see. The blaze within his body Radiates, and yet, The chilling of his very soul Allows him to forget. With sonance all around him, The sobbing...

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When they gave the diagnosis, I was a little dumbstruck. I thought I was fine, but I had really run out of luck. They took me in, they gave me clothes. They gave me a slumber, but then forced me to rose. In panic, in love, and all in between. Stricken, I was, in the head...

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Who lies now by the wayside stricken, sick of body, sick of soul? His eyes are closed, his ears are deaf to the somber bells that toll. I knew this man now sadly stricken in happier days when blessed by wealth, famed for both his strength and valor, his soul and body in best health. He saved my kindred, then the...

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When discontentment grips my soul stricken with “if only” litany midst tormenting doubts attacking… …helplessly beseeching for escape flight while wallowing in failure along frustration angst --- My Lord hoists my faith, reviving my heart toward triumphant service. Cognizant of uncertainty-filled response to future upon insecurities' “maybe" flood my carnality pursues gainful personal whim making me swerve from devotion-vow retreating into convenience and comfort...

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The strong winds swooned her hair in air Her tears had welled up inside to the brim She could not fight alone a battle so grim They wanted to lay a distraught grief bare Stalked, abused, and stymied not to dare No help came to lift her worldview so dim It seemed impossible to get out of the rim Gory tales of...

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Africa my continent I remember you today as always The cradle of civilization The land of great and revered warriors Endowed extravagantly with all God’s natural resources Africa my continent The land of great promise Africa of Achebe’s Things fall Apart, I salute you. Rise up and take your destiny in your own hands The abundance of wealth in your bowels Should be...

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