Best Running Poems

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
...

Buffalo Bill opens a pawn shop on the reservation
right across the border from the liquor store
and he stays open 24 hours a day,7 days a week
...

Let us go now into the forest.
Trees will pass by your face,
and I will stop and offer you to them,
but they cannot bend down.
...

I dreamt of autumn in the window's twilight,
And you, a tipsy jesters' throng amidst. '
And like a falcon, having stooped to slaughter,
...

Your hair is lost in the forest,
your feet touching mine.
Asleep you are bigger than the night,
but your dream fits within this room.
...

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself
But if your love and must needs have desires,
Let these be your desires:
...

he sat naked and drunk in a room of summer
night, running the blade of the knife
under his fingernails, smiling, thinking
of all the letters he had received
...

In my dream
I dream I am you
running wolf
...

She came home running
back to the mothering blackness
deep in the smothering blackness
white tears icicle gold plains of her face
...

The heads of strong old age are beautiful
Beyond all grace of youth. They have strange quiet,
Integrity, health, soundness, to the full
They've dealt with life and been tempered by it.
...

Day by day, I wake alone, in a cold and empty bed,
Day by day, thoughts of you, keep running through my head.
I wake and wish this day would be the one I see your smile
I sit and wait to see your face, I'm living in denial.
...

There is a hawk that is picking the birds out of our sky,
She killed the pigeons of peace and security,
She has taken honesty and confidence from nations and men,
She is hunting the lonely heron of liberty.
...

I know a green grass path that leaves the field,
And like a running river, winds along
Into a leafy wood where is no throng
Of birds at noon-day, and no soft throats yield
...

If you strike a dagger in my chest
Do ponder
Air has no body.
...

Again I reply to the triple winds
running chromatic fifths of derision
outside my window:
Play louder.
...

She is near to my heart as the meadow-flower to the earth; she is
sweet to me as sleep is to tired limbs. My love for her is my life
flowing in its fullness, like a river in autumn flood, running with
serene abandonment. My songs are one with my love, like the murmur
...

My heart is lame with running after yours so fast
Such a long way,
Shall we walk slowly home, looking at all the things we passed
Perhaps to-day?
...

Sweet love, sweet thorn, when lightly to my heart
I took your thrust, whereby I since am slain,
And lie disheveled in the grass apart,
A sodden thing bedrenched by tears and rain,
...

'Oh, Jesus, ” I am at your door steps and accept my prayers “small girl lit candles in the church and just cried while looking at the cross of lord.” How much you have suffered for mankind” she murmured and stared at the glittering eyes of Christ. She was at the highest peak of happiness and knell down to have more blessings from Him.

The little child never knew what was in store for her. A little noise from near by just detracted her attention from Christ and she found some one was pouring kerosene on her head. She was completely shocked and soon found to be wet in kerosene. She only saw flash from match stick and found burring in flames. She found Christ just extending his hand. Soon she was in flames and crashing on the ground.” help, help' came the groaning voice from little child and all the children from orphanage made a frantic cry for help. The child was rushed to hospital with unconscious state of mind with no hope of survival.
...

I swayed upon the gaudy stem
The butt-end of a steering-oar,
And saw wherever I could turn
A crowd upon a shore.
...

Lord, what a Beloved is mine! I have a sweet quarry; I possess
in my breast a hundred meadows from his reed.
When in anger the messenger comes and repairs towards me,
he says, “Whither are you fleeing? I have business with you.”
...

Lady, the dog that looks like a rat
Chases a beautiful Persian cat
She puts in high gear
Running like a deer
...

Love, Fear and Hate and Childish Toys
Are here discreetly blent;
Admire, you ladies, read, you boys,
My Country Sentiment.
...

The young child, Christ, is straight and wise
And asks questions of the old men, questions
Found under running water for all children
And found under shadows thrown on still waters
...

Chatter of birds two by two raises a night song joining a litany of running water--sheer waters
showing the russet of old stones remembering many rains.

And the long willows drowse on the shoulders of the running water, and sleep from much music;
...

Suicide....Suicide....Suicide
This is what my thoughts are
Suicide....Suicide....Suicide
I do not have a star
...

I have remembered beauty in the night,
Against black silences I waked to see
A shower of sunlight over Italy
And green Ravello dreaming on her height;
...

A god in wrath
Was beating a man;
He cuffed him loudly
With thunderous blows
...

A wind, bringing willow-cotton, sweetens the shop,
And a girl from Wu, pouring wine, urges me to share it.
With my comrades of the city who are here to see me off;
And as each of them drains his cup, I say to him in parting,
...

my suicide
i want to die
by my looks you want to be me
but you dont know i have nights full of endless
...

It will not hurt me when I am old,
A running tide where moonlight burned
Will not sting me like silver snakes;
The years will make me sad and cold,
...

This is not water running here,
These thick rebellious streams
That hurtle flesh and bone past fear
Down alleyways of dreams
...

As I came over Windy Gap
They threw a halfpenny into my cap.
For I am running to paradise;
...

The dago shovelman sits by the railroad track
Eating a noon meal of bread and bologna.
A train whirls by, and men and women at tables
Alive with red roses and yellow jonquils,
...

The extreme storm waves
Aim to sweep the running clouds
And the lone sparrow.
...

Red is deep anger that never comes out
Red is believing, and then having doubt.
...

Oft an adults with childish mentality do marriage
With an aim to travel in life’s joyful carriage.
On fate’s tortuous road of uncertainty
With an aim to sing life’s joyous ditty
...

With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the sky,
"How silently, and with how wan a face!"
Where art thou? Thou so often seen on high
Running among the clouds a Wood-nymph's race!
...

Where the path to the lake twists out of sight,
A puff of dust, the kind bare feet make running,
Is what I saw in the dying light,
Night swooping down everywhere else.
...

What... are we doing?
Running, Rushing
Shouldn't we...
Be slowing Down?
...

Gas flaring on the yellow platform; voices running up and down;
Milk-tins in cold dented silver; half-awake I stare,
...

Have you seen the bush by moonlight, from the train, go running by?
Blackened log and stump and sapling, ghostly trees all dead and dry;
Here a patch of glassy water; there a glimpse of mystic sky?
Have you heard the still voice calling – yet so warm, and yet so cold:
...

YOU say I should not think upon her now:
But then I have stood beside her listening,
And watched her rose—breathed lips when she would sing:
...

Fragrance of flowers, Soul mates in pair
Running with romance, Taking loves dare
Making the moments, Without despair
Smiles of sunshine, Blossoming air
...

OTHERS may praise what they like;
But I, from the banks of the running Missouri, praise nothing, in
art, or aught else,
...

I, one who never speaks,
Listened days in summer trees,
Each day a rustling leaf.
...

Whereas at morning in a Jeweled Crown
I bit my fingers and was hard to please,
Having shook disaster till the fruit fell down
I feel tonight more happy and at ease:
...

The cold winter can not destroy the miraculous invincible seeds.
The germination fundamentally changes them in the earth's maternity.
It is a new life running time when the cold snow irreversible recedes,
And a new spring embraces the deep mysteries of the magical fertility.
...

I SWAYED upon the gaudy stem
The butt-end of a steering-oar,
And saw wherever I could turn
A crowd upon a shore.
...

Oh you are coming, coming, coming,
How will hungry Time put by the hours till then? --
But why does it anger my heart to long so
For one man out of the world of men?
...

She has attained the permanence
She dreamed of, where old stones lie sunning.
Untended stalks blow over her
Even and swift, like young men running.
...

For our white and our excellent nights--for the nights of swift
running,
Fair ranging, far seeing, good hunting, sure cunning!
For the smells of the dawning, untainted, ere dew has departed!
...

Birds twittering sweet melodies in the morning
Fragrance of a rain spreading in the gentle breeze
Rustling leaves in a forest of trees
Leash of foxes running free to the wild
...

what has poem hunter,
Against me, I wonder.

My inbox is full
...

fatherless child,
rainy days and no smile,

fatherless child,
...

The Lord made a seed within the universe. It was a place
called the earth. A tiny seed of creation. To fill all with an
eternal plan. We are all part of the workings. To make a
space where we can rest. To have a home in eternal life.
...

Too soon comes Autumn, as nipping the heels
Of unwary Summer, it stealthily seals
Small changes in heavily leaf-laden trees.
Summer fruits begin dropping, balanced astride
...

Silent night
Awaken my mind on you
As i see your face painted on the moon
Breathe me out all of my warm breaths
...

When you love nature, its lover you are
Now you do love its things, features, creatures
Birds' songs, blooming flower, running river
Noisy folks, working and normal dwellers;
...

Well now friends you'll never guess it so I really must confess it
I just met the sweetest woman of my long dismal life.
...

========================
Wings as black as midnight
=My misunderstood angel=
Tears running down his cheeks
...

I regret today
Dreams I've yet to realize
Running out of time
...

A marshy dew of softness
Tender river of loving cave
A wetly cotton clay of sweet fragile
Two edges wave in deep shallows
...

I was the first fruits of the battle of Missionary Ridge.
When I felt the bullet enter my heart
I wished I had staid at home and gone to jail
For stealing the hogs of Curl Trenary,
...

I am the only actor.
It is difficult for one woman
to act out a whole play.
The play is my life,
...

A black and glassy float, opaque and still,
The loch, at furthest ebb supine in sleep,
Reversing, mirrored in its luminous deep
...

You that do search for every purling spring
Which from the ribs of old Parnassus flows,
And every flower, not sweet perhaps, which grows
Near thereabouts, into your poesy wring;
...

I stood upon a high place,
And saw, below, many devils
Running, leaping,
and carousing in sin.
...

The nights are running out of darkness

Steel branches grasp
The arms of passers-by
...

Sunday night and the park policemen tell each other it
is dark as a stack of black cats on Lake Michigan.
A big picnic boat comes home to Chicago from the peach
farms of Saugatuck.
...

Crying in the pallid night
Crying in a dreary sleep
Crying torrid shades of ember
For the washed out faded days
...

Woke up this morning, with some more new pains
Getting old really sucks; I hurt when it rains.
You won’t hear me say, “Wow, THAT pain is gone! ”
But always just, “Hey, why does THAT now hurt? ”
...

Running scared
Through deserted countryside
Hiding beneath the trees, breath in ragged gasps -
In the dark heavens overhead, tiny 'stars'
...

Sprinkles in reality
Holding loved ones near
Routines running rapidly
More than one can peer
...

The train is running
Through the fields, the forests, and the deserts…
So close to the earth and yet,
An intrinsic part of the society.
...

i saw trees
shedding their leaves
i saw ponds
drying to their core
...

My work, I'm very careful about it, and I love it.
But today I'm discouraged by how slowly it's going.
The day has affected my mood.
It gets darker and darker. Endless wind and rain.
...

I fall in love on a lonely day
When my motion is high on a race
When my heart is dried of life & a taste
Not just when am a friend to the grave
...

Teardrops running down the cheeks should be salty
But they burn like pepper when concealed in a thick beard.

Pains of broken heart
...

This word laughs
like cool running water.
Agog is a delirious munchkin
with eyes as big as ostrich eggs,
...

'Lies have short legs.'
But they wear
posh silky tights
and prefer to...lie
...

Hey Little One
You’re the pretty one
A concept girl
Going home for the weekend
...

I asked the mayor of Gary about the 12-hour day and the 7-day week.
And the mayor of Gary answered more workmen steal time on the job in Gary than any other place in the United States.
"Go into the plants and you will see men sitting around doing nothing--machinery does everything," said the mayor of Gary when I asked him about the 12-hour day and the 7-day week.
And he wore cool cream pants, the Mayor of Gary, and white shoes, and a barber had fixed him up with a shampoo and a shave and he was east and imperturbable though the government weather bureau thermometer said 96 and children were soaking their heads at bubbling fountains on the street corners.
...

Soft as a summer breeze
That meanders through tall trees.
Soft as that favourite comfy chair.
Running my fingers through your hair.
...

Like the morning light, the new year is born
As you wake up with the sunshine
You feel hope running through yr veins
Wondering if this year will be filled with beauty
...

Passing through the crop fields,
Train is running ahead to capital,
For gaining capital of life again,
Man and woman are working hard,
...

My hands clasped under a veil, dim and hazy…
'Why are you so pale and upset?'
That’s because I today made him crazy
With the sour wine of regret.
...

On this day of sky-blue bears
Running across quiet eyelashes,
I divine beyond the blue waters
In the cup of my eyes an order to wake.
...

Running wild in the desert
Being free as I can
I have no borders to cross
To hold me in my place
...

We are upon the Scheldt. We know we move
Because there is a floating at our eyes
Whatso they seek; and because all the things
...

What if we are all born with
a predetermined number of heartbeats
and when they're gone,
we're gone?
...

On The Position
February 13, 2021
...

Seven sweet singing birds up in a tree;
Seven swift sailing ships white upon the sea;
Seven bright weather-cocks shining in the sun;
Seven slim race-horses ready for a run;
...

First there is the wind but not like the familiar wind but long and without lapses or falling away or surges of air as is
...

The spectrum I had seen
It was her love, I mean

The world is
...

The winter it is past, and the summer comes at last
And the small birds, they sing on ev’ry tree;
Now ev’ry thing is glad, while I am very sad,
...

...

Walking some days
the light of the plains shines.
A fresh wind blows over the green wheat
and the greyhounds come running to me,
...

Drudging my way through narrow pavements of dusty roads,
cycling with all my friends,
I played hide and seek with them
in a joyous mood,
...

Time

Time's running out,
Increasingly depleted day by day,
...