Amateur Poems

Everyone has a wish so that of mine, To make our love eternal till the end of time. Oh! if only i were the breeze and she inhaled everything of mine, i would graved inside her forever, till the end

Poems. They love. They fight. They can keep you up all night. They know what you think. They laugh, smile and wink. They stand by you, they heal. They know how you feel. Now touch a poem and see it

He was the first man your eyes opened to.. The shivering hand that touched your tiny nose.. The strong arm you cuddled on.. His love that kept brimming but never spilled.. Those eyes that made everything seem within reach.. That

When young folks still in college try to find The hottest and best paying growth career But they’ve no conscience, and a clever mind, The experts would suggest they monger fear. You find folk’s fears, then focus on a few:

He and I (a subtle amateur attempt at understanding Narcissism) He loved himself and I loved him He believed he was superior and I was happy to be his shadow He wanted all the attention and I always showered it

Hardly does anything trespass through the intricate niches of delirium, A shout practically hovers around in oblivion and a morning yell is supposed to be suppressed in the enthusiastic turbulence of dark whirl Darker emotions have to be admitted and

I am consumed with leaving one foot in the door and a portion of my brain the size of a doubled walnut begins to perform calculations how long a stay means eagerness how long obligation how long politeness how long

I opened my eyes upon the world My tiny fingers were tightly curled My eyes saw the brightness and quickly closed Sounds all around me filled my ears unopposed I opened my mouth and let out a cry As hands

Someone dropped a gun in the crowd – it clattered like candy garish glare of night-time marquees scent of every onion in the world sautéing adults walking on, a mobile forest of legs intent on getting somewhere doing something a

And then it was gone Lost in the realms of time A thing of the past All that it stood for All that it vowed to be Disintegrated like dust from a shooting star It started as a tiny speck

A few rough years we have left behind, Of fears, frustration, fights, just blind. Patience is what I needed to teach myself, A very difficult challenge in spite of myself. But as patience started to shine on through, My husband

Not superficial, real inside, something was ruined. Tonight I will walk out in dark beyond me. Creased, under tyranny of love, wanted to unwrite the script in the stampede of sins. Impeachment throws up the shock syndrome. No wish to

I believed it…. The hate was gone… I felt so strong… Deeply deceived… That monster inside…. Still alive…. I’m chained to this grief…. But this truth is relieving… My darkness is peace… Under this smile… Lies the wrath of a

She lives in her own world, world that is beautiful still there are fairies in that world witches, goblins and godmothers too such is her world all around and she is the princess of all she is to be cherished

The tide stroked at my toes. It reminded me how… gentle Your touch used to be. A gilded sun enveloped the glass sea, Glistening; the way your Eyes lit a darkened room. Waves, Crashed. Semi-translucent images Come and go on

Sitting here tonight thinking about you the phone rings and it’s you on the other end you say I was just thinking about you how have you been? I say well I’m fine but it’s kinda ironic I was just

Well you haven’t given me much of a reason these past few seasons to put my whole heart into this so-called relationship…well I need to know if you still love me or not…I Need A Reason To Hang Around I

Why don’t I find the things around me The way I wish Why don’t I feel the things around me The way I wish And why don’t I dream the dreams The way I wish Because my imagination accepts the

A fire of passion Burns inside me Eyes twinkle in mischief Longing to explore The bond of unknown. Heart pounds within As the lost soul Awakens the love From pain to delight Of my lively self. The pulse of passion

(1) My grandmother, may God have his mercy on her, still keeps the role of the hero; her face wrinkles are a leather book open to all interpretations; the falling of her teeth are the lost evidence on present time;

Sleepless night Windy outside I counted the stars None is as shiny None as bright As my eyes When they meet yours Short blond hair A look like you don’t care But why did our hearts stop When our eyes

As I lay in my sleepy bed With your poetic words flowing through my head Wooed by a prince I felt a queen As I sank into a sea of dreams And tho’ consummed by a fathomless flood I awoke

To cleanse the dirty body of just born baby we need Water To fulfil our daily chores for cleaning the self we need Water To quench thirst we need water To prepare Coffee/Tea we need water To prepare food we

One night I had an uneasy dream I was at Mother’s Wake A woman entered the viewing room I wanted to scream It was my Deceased Mother Followed by her Dead Sister Stella A third woman without a face Carried

You run through my veins like blood, I close my eyes only to see your face, the tug on my heart assures me you are still there. We had our time, we have moved on I see you and I

Near to the equator far from the pole , I will wait for you .. till i reach the goal . From the stars to the milkiway I will wait for you.. till i find your way. Near to the

My wings fly with flaming heart, soaring high in the sky but in utter vain. Like sunshine in the rain, but burnt and charred, it so hurts. Delving into the same old refuge, filled with solitude in a world full

Mind your mind with positive and lacquer, 47 degree angles wrapped in her favourite brochure, pinned to the left wing of a soft song. Be free, be happy, be sad, be the wind, be the rain, be wind-rain be god

Yes, you there, two seats in front. I see and hear you there, kicking, screaming, Determined to give your mother hell, Though you don’t know you are. You don’t know what you’re doing. All of us are born conservative that

I was feeling depressed as none paid attention to me I thought best way to get attention is to die & I tried I took out a long rope to hang The rope cut and I fell down I took

Everything in her serve the good in others, her daily activities promote joy and happiness of fellow humans. Early in the morning, her concern is her household, throughout the day, her interest is about home front’s welfare At night she

As usual he was busy in his daily routine while his dreams and ambitions were soaring he believed that he would be happy for ever and shadow of sorrow would never come near His aim in life was to add

Death will not measure the height, from which we fall. Not being, the psyche of primeval fear finds its conscience – subverts the softness of moon-eyed life with wealth of green blood in brown bread. And the white candle burns

Everyday my past comes back to haunt me Making me relive what I couldn’t give up, an unpayable fee Friends, family Love, but not me So quick to steal their breath And fill my world with death With no chance

The full Moon is on wane Shedding her last attic glory on Earth And every aspects of Earth’s being Scorched too much in blazing Sun, Enjoying the Moonshine bath like budding spinsters Drenching in swelling teenage mirth. The air is

What that I am left with, impaled in jaws of mantis, starting a tug of war, for the otherness in me, seeking a bloodbath between my poise and incestuous blue hole of black walls. I gave you my voice, my

Why can’t we think about others before thinking about ourselves, why should it always be Me, Me, Me…it’s a crying shame people are too self-absorbed these days to care about anything else, now I’m not saying it’s that way with

Where were you when I needed you the most? You left with no explanation, you lied to my face. My heart was filled with space. My head is in the clouds. You can say what you want about me. Now

Sumptuousness of the cafe, Sitting at the corner… Softly Decorated with glasses comforts of Air-Conditioner.. Silent faces unknown held down on phone-screen… Headphones and Ringtones like sounds of guillotine Inside the head-Rage and fire against the politics-bullshit of generation of

Beneath a pile of dust, on a slumbering shelf, in a room which knows not the wind, I’d stumbled with a white-haired aphorism telling that your heart is your enemy; If it inclines left, go right; if it betakes right,