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.
Well there’s Hooverville on the edge of the river haint nuttin boot flimsy cardboard e’en with clothes will shiver waiting for tension to be released like a arrow in a taut quiver major organs ready to burst open cuz day
An uneasy blood cascades in the slender arteries when you, that I wanted to touch disappear into twilight of memory. Always a sense of bereavement. why do I care for you? Time drops like an old coin in the hands
cool January soft sound of chattering teeth night of painful rest faint tunes of dew drops hazy February morn sun and transport wait first song of cuckoo melting snow of mountain tops a cool transition bees drone busily spring festival
Sweet blooms dance across the screen Collage credits snipped from a magazine Marching bears play the liberty bell Thy tempestuous stomping foot sends them all to hell Bouncing maids on barnet fair Gods and angles grace the air A Cardinal
My pal in pain I know what you’re going through, but never forget my mate the chief difference between distance and separation. There, you cry at your home and here, I feel downhearted in mine. Feeling an awkward distance in
call to duty tears him from his family, fighting war he causes not separate him from society he loves best, defending indefensible most times disconnect him from the loved ones maintaining imaginary “peace” elsewhere creates void at home at sea
To live in the moment, And not to worry about what comes after. To live in the present, And enjoy our time as youths, before it’s over. To not worry about the future, And everything that comes along with it.
And that did it. Many voices in a mayhem lost the face of lightening. The starlight woke in rain untainted by dust of beds encased in wilful folds. The tremors will not stop the knocking of speech, after an intimate
Our age is a deciduous tree, sheds yellow desires every year makes room for new ones in the spring of opportunity. Some desires resemble oak leaves, cramped and brown- still cling in mothers’ bosoms like our plans, albums, possessions. Alas,
I have thoughts, ideas. They well up from within. We all have thoughts, ideas, welling up from who knows where. Many unique, having meaning. Unique meaning. Our world, all around, pulsating with such thoughts, ideas. Bubbling in a cauldron, mixing,
I tend lovingly my husband, present savior, shareholder of my future pains of old age. But, he is in my place and I am in his role. I nourished warmly my innocent children my blessed off-springs of happy home, future
I am Lucifer the Prince of daemons which I command like a bunch of minions, for with them I annex realms and subjects who are no more than heavenly rejects, distinct from Saints; the apples of God’s eye. In Eden’s
Once upon a day I encountered a machine capable of the most exquisite, subtle and profound expression of feeling, While its cogs and wheels turned coldly and mutely, with no heart, thought or feeling of their own. A sign on
Every moment of my life which I dreamt to be sublime, Is now caged within the loathing walls of his dreams. Millions passing by and there, I stood as a scum, feeling the essence of nothingness filled in the dark
She is within an ever-lasting atmosphere, She is beneath the never lasting core, She prays, searches, hopes and fights, To find this never lasting door, A door leading to peace and promise, She is running out of time, So why
Family. That’s what we’ve grown to be. From once not knowing each other’s names, To all being able to take the blame. The past 3 years, We’ve grown to become who we are, From the people that surround us. Our
They can’t resist the Calligraphy, Like the Disney movies, all eyes & ears glued there, Yeah, they fathom the science behind it, But No! Listen to the hits they make, like boom! Can’t help but break dance, The comfort my!
Faith is like passing through the path of thorns But without being his dress torn or being inured This is how a faithful survives and just adorns Against all non believers who are heretic ,absurd Faith is a force which
A curse and a blessing sometimes you lose, sometimes you win, somewhere between darkness and dawn a candle in the wind… I take it to the heart, I take it on the run crossing some crazy state line one more