Twitters Poems | Examples

War

Scattered around is destruction and debris blast-
Things rendered shapeless and futile ,but to ooze
Disgust and infinitely depressing misery profuse;
What was a pleasure  and intact heaven, is lost !

Paralysed life  and sickly breath is just a doom;
What came up in the spirit and sprouts of affinity,
And the blooming faith  finds its end to infinity; 
Intense fire has left behind the engirdling gloom  

                                                                                    
Weird ambition and endless greed do always swell :  
All pursuits and desires fulfilled,man doth chase
 The vain, 'undo' prompts of the hidden mind base 
That blind the vision of the ensuant horror sequel 



From the  lithic to the vicious  latent missile,
Devouring pathos,Rage has stretched  its arm; 
The charm of living is lost in death and sick harm
The  extant essence of survival is lost in a while

 
Gone are twitters,chirps and the fresh pearly dew
The blessing sunrise and the sweet cool  breeze;  
Dissenting  waves are churning the settled seas
Old order merges with the ruined past for the new!

BUTTERFLY

As she drinks nectar from a flower, sweetness from heaven falls like dew 
anointed like gentle rain amidst sun showers, she appears as if on cue 

Lifting her wings, she lands on a Zinnia beneath a tinted sky of April blue 
a flight of fancy fanning fast, she's a fabulous marvel of beauty, true on true 

A whispering wind drifts down; wings flutter like a thousand shimmering stars. 
Startled, the fragile creature flits away but dares not venture too far.

She moves onto the next blossom, twirling around to sip its sweet elixir, 
tantalizing her senses with the promise of warm, golden, honeyed nectar.

A sparrow bursts into song nearby, filling the air with cheerful notes of love. Instinctively, she lifts her gaze to the tangle of branches and twine above.

There, the songbird bobs gracefully among the fronds in the lofty canopy, 
while the butterfly twitters about joyfully enjoying the lively symphony.

Chorus in the Trees

In the woods, where silence secrets
Songs so alive with the harmonies of chirrups,
Tweets, peeps and twitters, colors of light
Falling like liquid insight into the spirit who hears
The voice of God through the oaks and laurels,
Through the woods gentle melodies, ballads and narratives…

Babel

.
Babel: “A bottomless pit of violence, a Tower of Babel where all are speakers and no hearers.” Alexander Smith

The preachers preach what they've been taught.
Reporters say what they’ve been told.
The politicians lie and lie.
I watch a tragedy unfold.

On social media I see
some folks who like to blog or play
while bullies bully; haters hate.
“Talk to the hand” they seem to say.

Mean twitters, memes and certain posts
use scalding words  - an endless thread
scrolls down as if into a pit
where fire by sparks of hate is fed.

Opinions can be strong, but why
can’t some folks hear the other side -
with peace agree to disagree?
Yet fight they do and then collide.

Insanity is not just lurking.
Madness spits right in our faces
as many blab and jabber on,
heedless of the social graces.

Ears get clogged up; loose tongues flap.
See Babel’s Tower now so high!
We’ve come too far to still believe
that towers climb to touch the sky.

The fire raging underneath it,
spurred on by hate, crawls up each wall.
Violence will overtake us;
Then Babel’s Tower we’ll see fall.

July Terrace Garden

 
My
tranquil
oasis,
terrace garden,
by July-  serene
hues of green foliage,
and sweet scents of rose drifting.
A repose from the humid heat,
and oppressive sun- where the murmurs
of bird twitters bring a divine stillness.

Morning Songs

 

it begins at dawn   a tweet tweet then a beep beep~ a crow caws loudly

tiny little chirps 
twitters silly shrills whistles ~ 
hel looo hel looo trill

and then, begins the circled flight in the sky
swooping as one, turning, diving-  little birds fly
then, a pair of gliding birds gracefully dip and soar 
oh, such divine and sublime sounds from tiny birds pour

Wind Ruffled Petals

A warm breeze rustles through the leaves
as flowers bloom this summer day.
'round wind ruffled petals it weaves.
 
Windswept, the weeping willows sway,
and songbirds nest in branches high
as flowers bloom this summer day.
 
Drizzling showers rain from the sky
in little puddles on the ground,
and songbirds nest in branches high. 
 
When the sun appears, they’ll be found
bathing and preening without fears
in little puddles on the ground.
 
Their twitters, music to my ears
while the zephyr is blowing free,
bathing and preening without fears.
 
Such antics are soothing to me.
A warm breeze rustles through the leaves
while the zephyr is blowing free.
'round wind ruffled petals it weaves.


May 20, 2023
Inklings Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Gina McIntosh

Goodbye My Love

 Violins whisper on warm summer night
Nightingale twitters a song just for me
Lost and alone I have lost my knight
heartbreaking moment I failed to see.

Birds twitter like whispering violins
Melodious moment soothing my mind
Uplifted I spread invisible wings
Violins and birds create heavenly chime.

Sadness resides in heart that is broken
Final goodbye to my beloved one
It seems that the Nightingale has spoken
Violins whisper as my life moves on.

Beautiful thoughts invade suffering heart
Goodbye my love I feel torn apart. 




19/05/2023

Newborn Sprouts

newborn bulbs from sprouts
unfurl into green leaflets
a robin twitters

tulip buds will stretch
to greet the morning sunlight
colors of rebirth


2-14-2023
Spring Flower, Bird or Butterfly, Haiku x2 Poetry Contest
Tania Kitchin

Eight Hours of Sleep a Night

Take all your vitamins and meds, twice a day
    Exercise often, don't just 'play'
  Eat healthy foods, but sparingly
    No caffeine ever after mid-day

  Regular visits, doctor and dental
    And don't forget to check the mental
  Make sure you're insured: life, health, house and car
    Work long and hard hours, you're not a rock star

  Constantly check your emails, texts and twitters too
    Don't neglect your cousins in Kiev and Timbuktu
  Inspect the a/c, heater, all vents and sump-pump sure enough
    Use color-coded folders for your financial records and stuff

  Now just follow these simple regulations and rules
    And don't sweat the sleep ~ you insomniac, you

Listen, Listen Do

The flop and flurry of wide, woozy wings
clatters over dawn hedgerows.
Claws scrabble, feathers flounce.
An ounce of twitters rebounds
into raucous sound.

Here a rowdy cackle,
here a coddled coo,
there a deeply fluted hoo-hoo
all together in a ruffled flutter.
Birdsongs pump up,
light airy balloons into chattering tunes.
The sky jitterbugs a cloud or two.

Listen, listen do,
Listen to the hullaballoo
the mad glad galloping away of a musical play
where the singalong nips
at our ears with catcalls and cheers.

Another teaming twitter and fuss
strikes up its band for us.
Another cacophonic day lurches
as sleepy birds and the wide awake
gleefully roll off
their nocturnal perches.

Boundliss

Blackberry briar bounds the river: a curb
o’er the levee’s curve; a thorny imbroglio
under which twitters sing in broody milieu
Naught but the resilient do venture within
daunting vine bent in asperity, weathered
Little flyers fluff the brusque in a love filial
In wee caresses, stringent opens soft eyes
Silken white, touched in palest pink, winks
Sweet, sweet, they tweet, for a juicy bliss…

(8/7/2022)

Obsolete Professions - To Delete

Of all the professions ever been in the world
      Some are rightly regarded today as absurd

    The Western Union man just can't compete
      with high-tech texts and twitters and tweets

    'Typewriter Repairmen' now obsolete
      'Abacus Salesmen,' long rest their feet

    'Butter Churners,' consigned to back burners
      Bowling lane 'pin-spotters,' no longer wage-earners

    But the profession I miss the most by far
      is the Texaco Gas Jockey with his big bright red star

Spring Is the Gift of Hope

To hear all the twitters
of baby birds in the yard lifts my spirit,
from last winter’s grey;
I look out at the narcissus and tulips
to see a lively red cardinal,
a spark of hope for the season’s
weather-tantrums.

There’s something about renewal,
newborns in a pastel field,
young chipmunks chasing one another in circles
always brings a smile and I revel in
nature’s elation, like a proud mama.

In My Veins

Dying to see your smile, 
Dying to see your eyes.—
Seems you are one of my style,
This devotee is wise.

On the open roads,
The continuation of trees outside the lanes.
Flying twitters in ode,
River flowing like blood in veins.

You swim in those veins,
And reaches the heart.
But still this love fails,
Somewhere target is missed by my dart.

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