|
Poems about Imagery
|
-
-
-
She sits on the grass / Hidden far in the forest / Thinking of thoughts / Death. / She fears. / She scared / And no one can see / She swings on a swing hung / On a branch / Under the canopy of treetops / Trying hard not to cry / Bec
-
We invite you to come on a journey of the mind.
by Brian Balzer
503 words, 12 comments,
on Nov 8 4:23 AM. In Weird, Fantasy, Thoughts, Imagery, Abstract, Perception, Death, Life, Free verse. Reward
-
Rain pouring down on the windshield. / Everything's a blur. / I look out the window, all I see are orange streetlights. / Splash! / We rac
-
Something is approaching. / Clink! Clank! Clunk! / I attempt to stand where the doors open. / A rush of warm air overcomes me as I look fo
-
Cracking open the door, / I let go of the cold metallic doorknob. / Bang! / Door slams. / Quickly we hurry to the car. / Gleaming under t
-
Rough grass poking on my legs... / Prickly on my arms, too. / The sun slowly starts baking. / Swoosh! / Trees sway. / Breathing quie
-
So long ago when I was nine, there was a place that chilled my spine. / A towering wooden ark stood beacon to my youthful scare. / For year
by Enoq
604 words, 13 comments,
on Nov 2 10:27 PM. In Angst, Dark, Life, Nature, Rhyme, Friendship, Childrens, Family, Imagery
-
-
In the dark / crucified by your dark nails / my body / hung breathless in your arms / / Tortured, bruised ,lifeless , / a desperate cr
-
Returning to "safety" from the frontlines, / we trudge away from the whistling five-nines. / We limp on, drunk from lack of sleep / but we
-
Leaves / It’s strange the way leaves / Fall on the ground / The way they make creaky sounds , / I make my way to the dead lane / Full of le
-
Puritania / Cold on the snow / The air depressing / Crystal tears / On her pale face / Folded together / In an ancient pray / Lips parted /
-
Midnight is for poetry,
when undernourished imagination feasts.
-
My mind is a corroded cacophony - / a silly symphony of anxious ennui, / poundingly played by a fruity Sadducee / who put LSD in his caffine-free green tea, / and finished with a final finale / performing a guitar solo ala Tin Pan Alley.
|
|
|
|
| |