Anti-love poems bring the best collection of short and long anti-love poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great anti-love rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these anti-love poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on anti-love are here for you.
Now you call this living ? But what is living without loving ? And what is love but a verb ? Nothing more than a misconstrued word, Taken out of context by the world. We all strive for happiness . And society tells us
My name is Richa… Does it really matter?! It could’ve been Mala …Seema…Sita..Nirbhaya or even Chabili.. In the end I would’ve been married to a much older man.. or abandoned after impregnating in a forest.. I wash utensils …clean floors..
But life isn’t perfect dude, At times, it hits hard on you. Because this roller coaster is crooked AF, And a ride of this kind you just can’t envisage! Nath less, you are the sailor of this very ship, And
After a face – off you toss the coin resenting the liquid fame. Frame extracts the price of picture. Compassion for the artist was missing. I suffer in mid moon between darkness and light clarity of rags was improving. Homage
Last year vanished New year ushered while Sun continue to shine Moon as usual on and off seen Shivering Cold continue hide and seek Sweating Hot continue to rise Expectantly unpredictable rain Prices continue to rise to the skies Un
Bitter gourd Tastes bitter — How do you know? Are you so gullible? You believe everything That you are told? Or, Did you check it out For yourself? Tomorrow Somebody might say That bitter gourd is sweet! Then, What Will
When you come back to me in the spring, I will bestow all my love upon you, also well-being. Locking you in the depth of my heart without any will, I will fulfill all your dreams with dazzling smile. Deep
Peek a soul-peeking into an unghostly, sacred ghost — in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, until I find myself more flimsy than a goldfish ghost with bulging, story-telling eyes, standing, staring, balancing on the mental-emotional
Death is so painful. When you lose someone you love it is so painful. The longing to see them once again is almost unbearable. Their memory will never be forgotten. Their loss can make you feel so rotten. You have
The beauty and depth in your eyes, like the deep red rose’s appraise. the mystery and attraction of your face, Fascinate and amaze me with utter grace. Rose planted in my heart’s garden, started to bloom and brighten. my words
Cuddled under a warm, toasty quilt, Chewing on a bag of gummy bears with no guilt. Making the perfect mud cake, Watching the sunlight glisten off a lake. Letting myself go insane, To fight all things mundane. Cooking a delightful
Sometimes I feel really rotten Like someone’s dumped me in a moat And all the world’s against me I cut and bruise and they gloat When I climb out of that well of hell The viscous brown liquid drips along
His fingers were frenetically tapping, as if passionately rehearsing the recapitulation of Schubert’s rich, nuanced B Flat Major Sonata. Eyes darting back and forth in the waiting room, accompanying the clamor of paper rustling and sonorous rhythmic accented breathing. *click*
She’ll only dance as long as you don’t watch her a heavenly symmetry in the distance between elbows, knees. Gravity is only a suggestion while she progresses through nameless steps, her unplucked body stepping across thresholds billions of sisters have
The night in Love.. The lady shatter her dream.. She sacrifices all her career.. For the sake of love.. She surrender.. In front of Beloved one.. Ooh you caught me.. Oooh make me fine.. Oooh you love me… The man
Looking down, I can see only one thing… Darkness as far as it goes, not even a blink, Life’s an eternal abyss, I learnt today; Winners see the light, quitters kicked away… Myself was a winner (or so I thought),
Birds levitate and are airborne, Flapping wings soaring to the highest stratosphere, Flying into the blue yonder, Over snowcapped mountains, abutting the clouds, Flying, gliding, landing, so sublime Perching themselves in the tiny gap between other birds on a cable
Another phase another life Time to lift up my wares Move to the next fair Like a true vagabond Gained nothing, lost some Chanced upon sacred earth Though someone else’s Committed sacrilege Though never believed Expected the world Fell on
Mano a mano taut our mutually limp and gnarled fingers bony hooks draped with blotched flesh – varicose veined, decubitus descent, and aged arthritic anatomy like a scorched oxbow lake cruelly desiccating topography! * * * * * * *
She is desolate, slender and feeble , yet she has an unshaken sound will that instills energy and hopes into her humble heart to yearn for pleasant conclusion to her withering sapless body . Staring at things around through her
Twenty white pigeons, swallowing raw rice, half-staring at me? Twelve white-faced swans, basking in the sun, ignoring me? Eight white-haired owls eyeing me from tiny forested corners? Six whitish foxes and six brown-red squirrels quizzing me? Five pink-white beluga whales
Sometimes all I need is a pleasing look from your beautiful eyes, Sometimes all I need is a word of care from your beautiful heart, Sometimes all I need is a warm hug from your beautiful soul, … Sometimes all
Sore with discontent, Oblivion beckons, Fade out or live long- Perhaps not an option. Choices are illusions, Life a big lie, Return to innocence- Most desired. Loath and anguish, No logic to talk about, Haze of negativity- Call it depression.
Winterlude From November to March winter-green and winter-grey for all the things you never say, winter-silver and winter-gold for all the secrets left untold, winter-snow and winter-frost counting all the thing we’ve lost, winter-love and winter-pain washed away in freezing
The gentle touch of the breeze Unfolds the fragrant petals To have the nectar, the bees And butterfly on it settles. All around is green The nature’s carpet laid. The blue sky above, and The clouds giving the shade. The
Sleep, O drowsy moon Laying on garden path As winter sets in. Condensing mist In foaming gist Plays with chill shadows.. Her abrasive form Cold as snow Stiffen all loves. Why she is awake still Like a haunted spirit Brings
The sun won’t appear today Rising elsewhere it kindles flowers In foreign fields; even inspires A crop of melanoma among The fieldhands. But not here. The grey view south is dotted With electric pinpoints and a single Tall cross dim
Open the door and usher in some light watch the dismal darkness fade away. Question your sorrow, your beliefs, ponder what was good, forget the bad. Bury the visions that haunt you, they are but ghosts of time gone by.
Born as a fisherman swam in the ocean of poverty child labored to pay the school fees shown to the world Children have no religion practiced work as worship scaled Himalayas in academics rose step by step as scientist to
When lips seek lips to quench a thirst of passion… Freedom slackens a knot in its belly and gasps!!! When limbs entangle in an embrace of abandon freedom.. comprehension gets drowned in the deluge of an emotional erotic Freedom between
Love, it’s not the first time that our eyes have met, Yet you show me nothing more than your yoga stretch, Hello swell who knows just as well that this ain’t no competition, Still you leave me forever baffled by