Striping Poems | Examples

Gods Quintessential Tapestry

whirlwind of spectacular sounds
elephants tromping through, ears flowing
continent made of diverse dialects
zebras striping the horizon with color
countries with their own flavors
Africa God's own quintessential tapestry

I Am Rejoicing In Myself

I am a whirlwind of colors
Oranges and turquoises
I dance among tulips
Careful to not tread too proudly on violets

I am a unicorn’s horn
My striping parading through a forest
Showing up the oak trees
I look down on them and laugh

I am a bowl of crisp Lucky Charms
Children are fighting over my green moons and yellow suns
I am optimism and hope
I am rejoicing in my selfness.

Weekend Dad

I am guided into the day by a beautiful ribbon of flowing cloud streams
It looks like several jet planes left their streaks across the sky, 
Each one getting a bit lower, until they nearly touched the sea.

The sea is calm, it is one of those days that you find the best shells.
I walk with my bag, optimistic that the best conch will be lying here, waiting.
I am rewarded too, it is pink, with unusual striping. 

I thank the ocean, and she winks.
She is a streak of precision this morning, 
as if she was drawn by an engineer’s level.

My companion is silent, 
skipping ahead now and then running back to take my hand.
Her hand is soft and warm. 

She is eight, my daughter, and I am thrilled she is here.
I only have her on weekends, so I am reveling in her company, loving today.
The sun is coming out slowly, peeking among the streams. Life is glorious!

Light and Darkness

Does the light go chewing through
Striping you bare without a care 
Invade each nook as you stand
Making you feel at its command

And when the light finally departs
Does it leave you with no more
Not knowing your know how
Do you finish with a bow

Do you plead for the darkness now
To be wrapped in its caress
Wanting nothing but not to care
For the light has stripped you bare.

© Paul Warren Poetry

Shadow of the Huntress

Ghost-striped by wild magic, night roams into the night
with a mystique like the darkness of the moon’s shaded face.
A jet silhouette with shadowed rosettes prowls ebon-air’s hue;
liquid-liner-black strides in silent fluidity 
melts night into the night.


Susan Ashley 
April 20, 2019


~Fifth Place ~
Contest: April 2019 Premier 7, Max 5 Lines
Sponsor: Brian Strand


*A black panther is a leopard with excessive melanin giving it its black coat. Like a regular leopard, the panther has black spots, but they are usually hidden by its fur’s black background but they can be seen in the light at certain angles, this is known as ghost-striping.*

Shallow Windows

By dawn's early moonlight 
Visual trance hides divine
In Burrow Whither Falls 
Where strings denial hangs tight  

River’s less than  decay  
Laughter’s final descent  
Striping comfort torn wide 
Through red sector waking 

Puddles fear them coming 
These live’s who burn away  
Running backwards full smile  
Drunk on honey and gin 

Cherry trees held vacant  
Around daunting screams Spring’s 
Wedding gift two who’s love 
Forgot headon embankment 

Centers inner matter 
Stricken beside forest’s
Hotel sanctum hatred  
Sharing reaps sow Whisper 
-Forever

Memories On the Breeze

The summer air was still, 'neath golden sky
where lively birdsong filled motionless trees
sun shied away while cirrus clouds passed by
air cooled and briefly birthed a subtle breeze.
The scent was fleeting, but I recognised
the petrol fumes mixed with newly mown grass
the present scene replaced before my eyes
with summer childhood from some decades past.
Dad's Suffolk Punch striping the long back lawn
mums gossipped, back and forth like free range hens
kids coming home, hands muddy, trousers torn
a snack, a drink, then off to play again.
Though age must smother youth, those times long gone
memories on the breeze will linger on

For contest 'one in five', sponsor Joseph May
January 28th 2018

Deepest Desire

To this we all must admit that such a desire exist
Surely we can all sense it a bit in striping us bare
A love that is beyond any love we presently know
Being in such perfect bond unlike our present woe 

The want and the need that even you can't see
The Glory in His Great Deed in setting you free
Feelings of being lost in seeing where you been
Yet He paid the whole cost in conquering all sin

No, to this, you can't deny as there it will stay
And no matter what you may try there it'll lay 
Not that we should expect or even have a right
Oh how His Light will reflect bringing all to Light

But for now we can only long in such anticipation
Praying that we remain strong without cessation
In such a void being unfilled we long ever more
Yet doing as He Willed becomes a sufficient cure

Sugar and Stinger

Her life like a horse
A striping stallion
Breath taking force
Overseen by a falcon

A fickle terrain
And bipolar forecast
Derailing her train
Distorting her past

A thunderous tide
Bellows as it rolls
With enticing eyes
A story unfolds

Gripping the clutch
With her pinky finger 
White candy, her crutch
Soft sugar and stinger

Briskly trotting
A tight rope beneath
Tripping, falling
A pool of grief 

Barely afloat
Gasping for air
Just one more boat
To get here to there

Forgetfulness

Two palm shape a bowl for wound. 

My mouth is a big hole of cry
Ruminates in the dark the sorrow  

My legs flint-stone-
The hammers of night sparked
The cry from my chest 
The sleepers of the graveyard heard it.

This is the hell where heart melted. 
I see the dark, cleaves the silence 
From ear to ear, like an old warrior,

Grinding the memory, agitating sadness,
Striping a heart of its leaves  
The shadow lays his head on the wall. 
The ravens are cheerful.

On October the little squirrels come 
to trade their love for hazelnuts.
Love warms up the lonely hearts.  

Love is crematory of loneliness.
Love is the crematory of my heart.

Two palm shape a bowl for wound. 
My heart's stitches itch,
Forgetfulness is the heart drug. 
Tomorrow I shall be different.
I shall be good as new 

Written by © Fatima Nusairat

Night Raid

It was night sin
of domesticity. Dyed, I am loading
the white secret of pain
in the hollow of a mayhem.


Till every blunder takes a
downward flight striping the outsized 
image of a kill. His flames are
now singeing the eyebrows of angels.

His  foes have entered the compound.
The black was alluringly looped in
a stream of blood. Death did not
wait for a ceremony.

Lips forgetting the golden sheep,
tongue apologies for the wronged earth. 



Satish Verma

Leaving No Marks

LEAVING NO MARKS

Water leeches squirm in blood
Next door boy snatching
A grilled chic drum stick
A game of chess
Sitting late hours.

Overnight
Vultures, predators and hyenas
Deadly pandemonium.

Burning torches, crude swords,
Iron rods, explosions in hand
Wiping a commune off.
Cries choked, screams of chastity
Gang rape-
Girl petrified eyes
A blooming bud squashed.

Hunter and the hunted 
Orphans and widows
Flames licking the last hope
Exodus,
Doleful moments
Relief camps, a farce.

Striping pant zip
To make cock sure.
Well set, predetermined
Your fear, your desire
Flared up.

Discussions, hand shakes
Cashew nut crushed over
Bisleri water
Cease fire.
Odour of burnt flesh and dreams
Lingering in air.

Gone are the lives
Gone are the hopes
Leave no space
No marks in history
Mass migrations, rapes and death
Same old story.

Early Morning Lark

A song-bird I came
With the morning mist
Like a south-heading crane
Into the gathering forest;

Beside this orange I perched singing
And smelt pure gold
On the surface merely hanging
Across the land.

I bore the straw from Natal
Thru’ my mouth for the nest
In Transkei in Transvaal
Thinking of the cherished rest.

But from our Soweto
An explosion came
Ringing like music in crescendo
Seeking in our forest some fame.

An early explosion still rings
Above my sweet tongue
Striping our forest of my songs
And mixing all into a dirge.

My Emotional Fight

Still a child within mentally stuck way
back when something damaging seals
my fate from my past, to young to know 
why my mother had to go but for me it
either sink or swim

There was no choice for me, I had to become
an adult too quickly, and so part of my innocents
at this moment just died, when at the age of 
fourteen I started striping and found that this, is
my means to survive

When I picked up drinking I was in bars by sixteen
a relative stares as they pass me bye...
"Dawna is that you?..Yes I'm drinking too!..can you
say that your honestly surprised?"

 Never been taught  the art of how to show my
love or support to the people I care about around
me, when all of this anger I hide makes me an
emotional wreck inside would it of been
different if my mother would have stayed?


And so I promise that each day to express 
my love in some way, even if it's at the 
time before bed when I kneel to pray.

Tears Agian

I can not stop them,
They just keep coming,
Hot and heavy, 
Down my face,
Thinking and feeling,
All my hurt,
The tears won’t stop,
Guilt as torment,
Loneliness too,
They won’t slow,
Warm and shiny,
Streams of pain going down my cheeks,
Striping it red as the drop,
I look at my painting and see all I want,
All that is out of reach,
The water so mysterious the sky so blue,
I can not stop them,
They just keep coming,
Hot and heavy, 
Down my face,
Thinking and feeling,
All my hurt,
The tears won’t stop,
Guilt as torment,
Loneliness too,
They won’t slow,
They will never stop ever again.....

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• Long Striping Poems
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