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.
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,
In longest night of pitch-dark space you disappear like an arrow. No star brightens your face. Rumor was cruising like a bat on streets to capture the gullible victim on winter solstice. The snow was falling like sorcery. A little
A self-protecting game was going on. After the paternity test there was slow burning inside the moon. Earth heaved a big sigh. Blackwater was making a muddy sound. Embroidery was fading aftermoon. I open the window to uncover the chill.
The falling poem was in bruising gamble of winter of troubled life, bound to a staircase: up and down up and down, on the rosette of grieving thighs. From sunset to sunset a moon rises in all its glory as
Unthinkable. Lithograph of a malaise. I cannot talk. Will you abandon the thought and care about the drowning dawn? The bandaged ego of the book threatens the reader. Come and solve the puzzle of poetry. Everything was quiet except the
Walking in mental fog, you become a swaying tree. In mistiness one becomes lonely like a blackbird. Hollyhocks would wait, till the sun comes out. December rain brings the gift― of sleet on lips. ————————————– Walking in mental fog, you
Jinxed out was the sex panel on the honour’s integrity. Deep water a fish was found dead. The destination of your rival was feminism. I was talking of the moon without gender. Your fingers were probing the dancing words, in
Like tussoh, I collect snow after the blizzard, churning the quartz, O December. Time to hang my boots and listen the call to quarters. Windows would kill me. I had my horrors I had my wine. The moon was still
A blank paper invites for rape. Snow sinks for a prelude. The black swan flies away for the quiet hills, when sun was drawing out the blood. Alone I will write a poem beneath the tear soaked eyes and then
It was a dirty war of moat flaying the legs in emotional outburst. No stings. Only mandibles will do the job of chewing on your dark fingers. Flat, the taste of milk: a synthetic formula to eat your entrails. The
In the empty house of snow, though, interred a blade of grass when I was searching one midnight flame in frozen night, on parting lips of darkness. The art of delusion churns the sea for an untitled arsenic, of a
Interned in my own prison beneath the skin, I stop the silver wheels. An aloof sliding, down the impotent rage I shout, I will not buy the flakes. The hirsute nobility of gorillas dancing on knives before striking a lamb
Imagine the dark opening forth light imagine the light breaking forth sun with beaming of rays upon the morn could it be as a darkening storm Imagine and insect on a fallen leaf Imagine the drunken sot asleep on the
Not contentious I will put you in moon for another rain. The invisible sex ticks the gravity of mouth that eats the murder. My body becomes an emperor even for the dust. Not the naked cloud. Blood colors the name
Giving and receiving is bright when all the flowers make delight to brighten all the days sent in so many ways bouquets are rolled in different colours trailed with dressing of pink bows Hyacinths and Roses makes the most of
It was a lingering goodbye for anchor moon after a religious embrace. I bid farewell in the chilling night for a song of separation. Where the beginning ends into a house of distillation. Blasphemy, where did you find the anatomy
Upon the land far away is something different I dare say the look of sandy beaches and palm trees are set on top of flowing sea reeds where in that distance of the land is something different seen at hand