An out of the box genre of poetry that is written in prose instead of verse. But there is a difference! Prose poems maintain poetic qualities of grand imagery and emotional consequences. Being a fusion of poetry and prose, this genre is an interesting narrative to read. Prose poems can take you deep in the theme with its story-telling. A great genre to explore!
It’s one of those mornings that welcomes whiskey and soda with open arms. The Sun and I, more or less, feel the same way about getting out and conquering the world. ‘Well, it’s not our turn today’, we tell ourselves.
Those aerodynamic seconds when Tarzan catapults between climbers through wild greens A nose sprouted on my scalp steers my body into wheels of motion as the doormat whisked from under, flutters Into a maze of colour then of frolic and
Inspired by my interests, I have thought about my fault and strife. Faults that I would not, until I gave in, take seriously and strives that I fell in but gave in to my own deeds. I tried both compassion
Lamp posts become sleeping lines; blot yellow, as I lose touch with the night. They choose when to light my knee, my eyes try to keep count. Smiling behind hair strands, I let a part of me rest on Amma’s
Nothing captivates me Other than your intimidating eyes Like they are meant to hypnotize Sometimes mysterious, sometimes cheerful Sometimes hiding the pain behind the moist Yet perfectly beautiful are your angel eyes. Just as if this wasn’t suffice God blessed
As the dusk sets in reluctance envelopes me pestering me and asking me the same question again And again. I ignore, unwillingly check-out drag my vehicle ahead, but the slightest touch of wind drifts me, scares me and travels me
I woke up knowing it was time. Only last week I was told about what was growing inside of me. They said it didn’t belong there. We are ready they said. Staring into its soon to hit nonexistence, the bitterness
Surrendering to- Which they have no control over, Each day they are together- Every time they look at one another, They give each other a part of themselves. Whispering promises of tomorrow- Her dreams, his wings- In the embrace they
Let’s take a walk Just you and me and none of our goddamn pretensions None of the constant editing of words and phrases in our daily interactions Let’s say things as they come to mind Hell, let’s just not say
Would you wash the dishes always, like you promised? Would you pamper me silly? Would you embarrass me with an off-tune karaoke dedication? Would you get drunk on a Monday night and proclaim your love for me over SMS, sitting
She lifted me gently in her arms, Smiles and warmth all around, She cuddled me closer to her chest, Humming a lullaby that resounds even today, She looked at me in the eye, Her words were soft and divine, Her
My mind is loose cannon. Nobody has control over it. Not even me! It shoots off fireballs in all directions in the fond hope that it will hit something. Sometimes it succeeds in doing so. And, sometimes it hits wrong
Take two conditions. Place them facing each other. Join them at the tip. Make another similar pair. Place it adjacent To the previous pair. Join at the base. Then connect both the tips By placing another condition, On the top.
During one of my procrastinating sessions, I stumbled upon the similarity of people and boxes. They all come in various forms, shapes, sizes, colours and textures. The large ones, the small ones, the fat ones the tall ones, the clay
An hour from St. Valentine’s day .. ‘Tis 7:00! Ring Ring Ring. . “Happy Valentine’s day ” “I love you..” “I love you too,honey ! ” “you know what ….” And talk’st they thus.. ‘Tis 7:15! The moving box of