As the name suggests, this genre comprises of poems that are short in length and use literary techniques such as meter, metaphor and rhyme. Short poems present the extravagant experiences, the long extensive thoughts in a shorter version. A piece of writing using beautiful or unusual language arranged in fixed lines that have a beat and often rhyme.
When the curtain falls, the puzzled instinct inherits the confusion of clouds. The beleaguered moon goes into a rage. Hungry vultures start a wait for the fall of a titan, stimulating the sun to exhibit the trove of the golden
Lying under the blanket of stars, I see so much more. I see myself riding the horse past the full moon On a clear starlit night. I see the possibilities of tomorrow, Shining bright. I see myself running alive among
Scolded by ignorance Praised by defeat Interceded with injustice Practiced in defeat Nurtured with indifference Fed by heathen bread Sleep in huddled chambers Speak in sobered stead Cleaver is the moment Divisive is the time Abrasive the decisions Reluctant is
Wanting more of you in the bed of moon, where present and past were disrobing. The bee stings, O my god, arrange the pure darkness of milk, hanging on persona of future. The yielding was painful, its blankness. You were
A complex ego: lips on a flame like Kama Sutra. Starless night to probe a moon going downhill. A needle in hay protects the wound of a kiss. Portrait was incomplete without pilot to fly a plane: ———————————————- A complex
Sun sinks slowly twilight looks at the sun and waits for the night to fall with darkness Life also drowns like dusky sinking sun and ends with foggy dusk wearing evening gown A tiny thought sitting on highland stares at
This road will not take you to a theme. In wind, a pebble was making different strokes. Hanging stones were hiding the music of poppies. To fill in my glass of silver I place the stitches in images of naked
A bumblebee cheated on a tiny petal by sucking its sweet nectar Tiny petal felt hurt, and went into desperation One ominous morning tiny petal breathed its last, and journey ended Now deceptive bee could no more steal the honeydew
Urn was carring the snow unmelted like the soul of night. It was a very strange winter like araucaria puzzle. Who was dragging the evergreens over the chaste cliff? All the incogerent roots have broken the placenta for new gods.
My adorable academic sanctuary, my big citadel of intellectual prowess. Where ignorance is consigned to an ossuary for the once inherent and nagging backwardness. Any who treads your academic trajectory is numbered with the doyen of enlightened ones. Your young
Look into their eyes. Eager, wanting to know. Wanting to know what they got themselves into. Fresh faces, years before the first wrinkle. Blank slates hanging on our every word. Each time, a clean slate pregnant with potential. Each time,
S- Sorry people were screaming cries. C- Calling out their loved ones in havoc. R- Rising atmosphere was getting worse, as in better. E- Evening goes by in fast time. A- As the high notes of help cannot be heard
Life is like a wind It takes the birds And the vultures also Knowing it will eat them all through… Balance is always necessary For you and the Birds At times the weather would vary You have then turn in
Code of the veil was darkening. You were searching for an unwritten message in bandanna. Rot was setting in flesh. Sludge was becoming a stone for an unmoving stream. The talks had failed. Hand-grenades will explode in shouts later on,
Much can be said But we speak in hushed tones Curt with our responses Hiding behind the wall of vulnerability We hold our breaths in anticipation Who will be the first to crack ? Unsightly in the walls of protection
Momma! I am your poem. From that mountain hole Too many pains left And from the island of the vexation A little pleasure on the journey twinkle They made a missiles I was fabricated just below your heart And I am
Meaninglessly traversing into the havoc of vanity With a fake logic justified, Leaving the players into the deathly chasm. A Blue bottle game denying the soul of life! Two and two they say ten, And it is their game playing
In a dark dark night About you I reminisce, Cropping more towards you I fall into abyss. Where I see you With your immense love, Holding me tight Where I be the dove. Your eyes so glittery Filled with fire,
what is her fault? just ”being a girl”. Took her to the worst, left nothing to curse. No sense nor an idea, why and what is going on her. Calling out mom, wished hearts would really connected. considered her an
Imperishable, you keep the truth frozen like the marrow, in the limbs of life, producing blood cells when sun rises. Knocking again at a rapist door to leak the secrets of a hidden bed of polity. Contours of a dimmed
It did not stay in bed for long the ultimate. Clouds climbed down from immortality. The sick motherhood. We made love listening to winds draping our ashes. A father waited at the door. I am the sun I am the
Have you tasted the silk in the pit of snakes? Exit was not in my fate. Winter was kissing my toes and spring was blooming down in my estranged poems. You don’t feel like to wake up for ingrained disbelief.
It was haemolysed the homeless night. Flagellation will bring out the truth. The bloody kerchief was thrown on a crowd. A new comet was sighted. Dust and ice were near the tears. Sun was rising. Something fell in the lake.
Waiting for a chaste bread, whole life under the moon, to speak off the inconsistency of happiness, with a monologue of a needle in eyes for a madness of sublime verse. Canoeing in a frozen lake for a stranded rose,