Poems About Wind Seeking Honest Critique
#wind
Related Theme
#storm
Poems about wind seeking honest critique. Honest feedback has been requested for these poems.
A Dance of Shattered Glass
The glass doth break in shards
A splintered, shining rain
As crimson trails, like wounded bards
Sing low in whispered pain
The broken light doth gleam
A fractured, silent cry
And in the blood’s swift, pulsing stream
Life’s fleeting colors lie
Yon scattered glass doth show
A twisted, darkened art
A portrait born of pain and woe
Writ deep within the heart
Each shard, a mirrored face
Reflects the crimson flow
A moment’s rage, a brief disgrace
In blood and glass laid low
A splintered, shining rain
As crimson trails, like wounded bards
Sing low in whispered pain
The broken light doth gleam
A fractured, silent cry
And in the blood’s swift, pulsing stream
Life’s fleeting colors lie
Yon scattered glass doth show
A twisted, darkened art
A portrait born of pain and woe
Writ deep within the heart
Each shard, a mirrored face
Reflects the crimson flow
A moment’s rage, a brief disgrace
In blood and glass laid low
#dark
#rhyming
#storm
#violence
#wind
60 reads
0 Comments
Hearkening
Some days are chimed by gentle wind
and nimbostratus gray
almost as if Poseidon grinned
upon the land for play...
so no extremes of hot or cold,
or shadows and sunbeams,
would strike a critter as too bold
for critter self-esteems.
Thus the furtive squirrels draw near
when that state of affairs
reduces all their rodent fear
about their weather cares.
But Poseidon's weather command
at last must call it quits,
at keeping dry the squirrel land,
with nimbostratus spritz.
The...
and nimbostratus gray
almost as if Poseidon grinned
upon the land for play...
so no extremes of hot or cold,
or shadows and sunbeams,
would strike a critter as too bold
for critter self-esteems.
Thus the furtive squirrels draw near
when that state of affairs
reduces all their rodent fear
about their weather cares.
But Poseidon's weather command
at last must call it quits,
at keeping dry the squirrel land,
with nimbostratus spritz.
The...
#rain
#wind
173 reads
6 Comments
unsteady upon his feet
don’t like going out in a strong wind
I’m a bit of a candle, fearing being blown
over and out he said, knowing full well,
of course, no one was listening,
but it was nothing, he told himself, that
it was nothing he couldn’t handle
I’m a bit of a candle, fearing being blown
over and out he said, knowing full well,
of course, no one was listening,
but it was nothing, he told himself, that
it was nothing he couldn’t handle
#wind
66 reads
1 Comment
looking for your scent
I spend time
looking for you
trying to find out
where are you
where are all the wires
your feet-thoughts
your mouth-regret
where are you?
where is the ecstasy?
that you knew how to achieve
that you knew how to hide
that you knew you didn't know
time passes
glued to your feet
penances
quiet on your lips
flames
I waste my time
lurking for you
where will you be
when I'm not
looking for you?
looking for you
trying to find out
where are you
where are all the wires
your feet-thoughts
your mouth-regret
where are you?
where is the ecstasy?
that you knew how to achieve
that you knew how to hide
that you knew you didn't know
time passes
glued to your feet
penances
quiet on your lips
flames
I waste my time
lurking for you
where will you be
when I'm not
looking for you?
#crush
#rain
#revenge
#secrets
#wind
106 reads
4 Comments
Wooded Vales and Howling Winds
The wind is old in the wooded vales
its voice a rusted knife
it carves the air in fragile tones
where twilight sleeps with life
A shape has stirred; you see it not
but feel its ancient crawl
in breaths between the withered leaves
where shadows rise and fall
The trees are brittle silhouettes
they strain, they stoop, they stare
but it’s the wind, the wind alone
that presses through the air
Or is it? For something darker hums
a lull beneath its cry
A hunch, a sense, a phantom brush
of wings that...
its voice a rusted knife
it carves the air in fragile tones
where twilight sleeps with life
A shape has stirred; you see it not
but feel its ancient crawl
in breaths between the withered leaves
where shadows rise and fall
The trees are brittle silhouettes
they strain, they stoop, they stare
but it’s the wind, the wind alone
that presses through the air
Or is it? For something darker hums
a lull beneath its cry
A hunch, a sense, a phantom brush
of wings that...
#dark
#forest
#scary #wind
#scary #wind
89 reads
2 Comments
In the vast expanse of the garden
Such a grand kingdom.
The petals flutter like candles
in the breeze they spin.
Let secrets whisper
tales from distant lands.
In this verdant haven
where time passes
through our hands.
Flowers bloom like coral,
vibrant and bright,
in the warm embrace of the sun.
They bask in the violet light.
Paths wind like chains,
winding and free,
through this lush sanctuary
where dreams come to be.
Dance of the butterflies
like creatures from the deep.
In this green expanse
where the memories we keep....
The petals flutter like candles
in the breeze they spin.
Let secrets whisper
tales from distant lands.
In this verdant haven
where time passes
through our hands.
Flowers bloom like coral,
vibrant and bright,
in the warm embrace of the sun.
They bask in the violet light.
Paths wind like chains,
winding and free,
through this lush sanctuary
where dreams come to be.
Dance of the butterflies
like creatures from the deep.
In this green expanse
where the memories we keep....
#clouds
#flowers
#mirror
#sea
#wind
83 reads
2 Comments
Trees of Mellow
Leaves fall from the trees of mellow,
with a simple blow of natures hello.
Announcing to be known,
for it was mother natures evil clone.
All alone.
Alone to itself, yet not to the rest.
Nature opens herself to the world,
to relieve some excessive stress.
Stress that plays chess with human life.
Checking many, but few to none.
Getting too near would enhance ones fear.
Lone and behold, but stay in control.
Gusty winds cometh to sendeth,
vastly stretched miles.
Rotation is evident, yet very...
with a simple blow of natures hello.
Announcing to be known,
for it was mother natures evil clone.
All alone.
Alone to itself, yet not to the rest.
Nature opens herself to the world,
to relieve some excessive stress.
Stress that plays chess with human life.
Checking many, but few to none.
Getting too near would enhance ones fear.
Lone and behold, but stay in control.
Gusty winds cometh to sendeth,
vastly stretched miles.
Rotation is evident, yet very...
#fall
#nature
#storm
#trees
#wind
76 reads
2 Comments
Musty Wallpaper #1
In the shadows of the night, where silence is king,
murmurs arise from a past that has not disappeared.
In dark corridors, where light dares not enter,
echoes of laments of souls in pain.
The wind whispers secrets of pain.
Stories of blood and pure gore.
Doors creak revealing scenes of horror
where death dances in macabre fervor.
Candles flicker, shadows come to life.
In every corner a lost story.
Empty eyes, without shine, without color,
reflect the abyss and eternal dread.
On the floor, marks of a cruel fate, ...
murmurs arise from a past that has not disappeared.
In dark corridors, where light dares not enter,
echoes of laments of souls in pain.
The wind whispers secrets of pain.
Stories of blood and pure gore.
Doors creak revealing scenes of horror
where death dances in macabre fervor.
Candles flicker, shadows come to life.
In every corner a lost story.
Empty eyes, without shine, without color,
reflect the abyss and eternal dread.
On the floor, marks of a cruel fate, ...
#aging
#ghosts
#memories
#mirror
#wind
107 reads
6 Comments
the wrinkles of the wind
my babuska
used to talk to the wind
used words
strange and silent
she asked favors from the wind
she blew in the ears of the wind
things the wind should do
and the wind shook the curtains
threw everything on the floor
the wind was excited
to the sound of my babuska's voice
used to talk to the wind
used words
strange and silent
she asked favors from the wind
she blew in the ears of the wind
things the wind should do
and the wind shook the curtains
threw everything on the floor
the wind was excited
to the sound of my babuska's voice
#aging
#LifeStruggles
#magic
#storm
#wind
80 reads
2 Comments
The wind hears many secrets
The wind hears many secrets
As he blows at his election.
Only a hearer at best –
He mulls them over and again
But doesn’t repeat or think aloud
For there are too many to recount.
The wind also has many lovers –
Appreciating the trees –
Caressing the flowers
And cooling warm cheeks
But preferring to roam –
Blows away to a place unknown.
As he blows at his election.
Only a hearer at best –
He mulls them over and again
But doesn’t repeat or think aloud
For there are too many to recount.
The wind also has many lovers –
Appreciating the trees –
Caressing the flowers
And cooling warm cheeks
But preferring to roam –
Blows away to a place unknown.
#wind
72 reads
0 Comments
Dream unfolded
From that corner you can see the house
Anchored to the dogs in the sun (dormant)
As if the river no longer had teeth
Absorbed in his thoughts
Silent as barked birch trees
Still floating in a volatile stillness
Once the war is lost, we have to hold on to the air
Write the laws in washed stone
Repeat the litany of saints (dormant)
Treating everything like there is no tomorrow
Again and again, and once again
Leave the wings against the wall
Hear the wind pass and carry the feathers
Rhyming river with house...
Anchored to the dogs in the sun (dormant)
As if the river no longer had teeth
Absorbed in his thoughts
Silent as barked birch trees
Still floating in a volatile stillness
Once the war is lost, we have to hold on to the air
Write the laws in washed stone
Repeat the litany of saints (dormant)
Treating everything like there is no tomorrow
Again and again, and once again
Leave the wings against the wall
Hear the wind pass and carry the feathers
Rhyming river with house...
#fish
#home
#redemption
#river
#wind
101 reads
4 Comments
beryllium
In the center of a hurricane there is absolute peace and
quiet. There is no safer place than in the center of the will
of God.”—Corrie Ten Boom
her kiss was not the dew at dawn,
her rouge no golden hue;
the spirit of the gentle faun
found here no xanadu.
she raped the wealth of pleasant lands,
havocked the caribbleau,
life’s peace accord, torn, in her hands,
her winds a wild tableau.
pillaging roofs and trees and boats,
her anger made a stew,
transporting pigs and cows and goats
far from their...
quiet. There is no safer place than in the center of the will
of God.”—Corrie Ten Boom
her kiss was not the dew at dawn,
her rouge no golden hue;
the spirit of the gentle faun
found here no xanadu.
she raped the wealth of pleasant lands,
havocked the caribbleau,
life’s peace accord, torn, in her hands,
her winds a wild tableau.
pillaging roofs and trees and boats,
her anger made a stew,
transporting pigs and cows and goats
far from their...
#environment
#rain
#storm
#water
#wind
139 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Wind Seeking Honest Critique