Syllable Poems - Poems about Syllable

Golly, what a Pickle you’re In -- Bub, How is it That you’re stuck in a Pub? Gullible -- You look, Pimp for why not hop, on Blimps? and Fly in its Massive Ruba-dub. ...

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Always Remember ...summer kisses, moonlit nights, strolling by the sea...and me. First and Last Our last times, gone, but our first times, always in memory.   Music Box A garage sale music box plays, "I will always love you".   From the Sky She tumbled from the sky - what a lucky lad was I. One Eye Blink Heaven sent, no time to think, she was...

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Syllable Counting Counting syllables is a pain in my rear Obnoxious divisions to which I must adhere Understanding them is not clear Never one to learn much in school To post good poetry, I must follow the rule. OR NOT!!!!! ...

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in the midst of death lichens come to life My secnd alternate Tien form of ten syllable, no title Tien is inspired by Chidiock Tichborne first line of his monosyllabic 'Prime of Youth'...

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MALE & FEMALE equivalent & complementary My alternate Tien form of ten syllable, & title Ten isinspired by Chidliock Tichborne monosyllabic 'Prime of Youth' ...

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In the arteries of my ancestors flows a river of untamed hope, older than the first spoken syllable, Deeper than the caves where forebears painted bison and dreams with blood and burning charcoal, While the instinct of survival dances through our cells like a shaman drunk on life. We are the children of a magnificent illusion weaving its...

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For love we woo, say I do when so few are found - loveless, alone, hold their phone like a bone, body, part of their skin, never kin with a winning heart....

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As a child I was raised God-fearing, but as an adult, I took to steering my life around those, who thought they could pose as religious types: all “Praise be”, all cheering....

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Once, when younger at the beach, Dad bought us an ice cream each. A pigeon, alert, pooed on dad’s dessert; no more it tasted of peach!...

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A bully once roared in my face, macho bluster, lacking all grace. I said “Do you mind? I think you might find, your breath offends my personal space.”...

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Sweat and tears that rise, to the clouds above as mist, fall to me again....

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I sleep in each day until *noon, My *mum says I live on the moon, If I think a day’s good *deed, Is to *eye a Facebook feed, Than to *peep outside of my room....

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Tapping each finger Words dancing under my skin A story in short...

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syllable head count and plausible restrictions ~ focusing required...

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One syllable.. 'Love'. Tongues should stay forever tied if they don't mean it....

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