Aspersion poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of aspersion poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on aspersion are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
The man who sits in solitude So as not to judge and condemn others, gains humility, An attribute truly favoured by God. A man who sits in a gathering to quarrel, and cast Aspersions on the righteousness & sanctity of
Casting aspersion on caste is like digging one’s own Grave For we know not why we have come but we know for sure where we are destined to Go When the coffin doesn’t differentiate who you are Why do you
Matter and spirit Noisy and quiet A timeless circle Magnificent miracle Of life and death Poverty and wealth A world designed Just to remind You to live in harmony A peaceful ceremony A fruit from a tree With a seed
It’s pretty- Mysterious- To me, Can you not see it? Truly- It almost hurts- Terribly- I’ve fallen for it, yeah, quite predictably, Quite hard, I guess I know, quite selfishly, as well. But the flowers can never never come too
Rub cheese on your knees, To cure a runny nose. Sliced onions on your bunions, To ease your itchy toes. A banana in your ear, Will dry those dreadful tears. A carrot up your nose, Will keep your vision clear.
It was too late for me to understand, I thought while I ran my daily errands, It should have clicked me sooner, But alas, what is done is done, It’s too late and cannot be undone. Everyone wished things were
The fragrance of Spring sweetly scents the air, And creeks are running full of melted snow, My eyes could not keep foolishly from glare, Of early morning sun’s radiating glow; More buds have opened up, aroused from sleep, To greet
It erupts and then sublimates in thirst of response from the faraway wholeness of truth. Will not be the same again this life in motion of reverse malignity. Lifting the passage from script to justify the suicidal chair of kingdom.
What use books, knowledge, ways to see the world, To learn to deal with life, the laws and men? What use to know protection and defense, And poetry, why flags are rolled and then unfurled? for what is it to
The birds, trees, sky , and sunshine A kiss for him ’cause he’s so fine Playing on the beach, on the sand Wearing sailor striped knit clothes And holding his hand Swirling around I let go of him To smile
Spurred the kerosene to burn the logistics. I had moved on untrodden snow of tanned gifts. There was no tomorrow for me, living from moment to moment. The warships had moved into positions. Adoring the monotheisn, I still loved many
In this timeless ethereality where silences build converted assonances and gravitational elapses, I breath your unspoken space within my pollinated reflections… Petalled essences of your insights swing the Eternity on the edge of my second… Echoed Time graciously bleeds rainbows
Two lovers by the ragged strand once trod the sooty sand; slender maid with raven hair, fisher boy of bronze; the dazzling sun a gold doubloon, the moon a silver coin. From rocks, ink-black as witches’ cats, they saw the
I want to laugh and laugh aloud, Like a free bird I want to discover every cloud, Want to cry and cry crisp, Keeping aside every sorrow I want to walk past brisk, Wander around in the streets for hours,
Come carving our names nettle suckers by the tallest fake plastic trees. Dangle thy fidgeting worm to a hungry, a vile, fishy fiend. Raggedy man says I’m on a thin line. Naked feet on a take a hollow stage Effortless
There is a chilbil tree near our grandmother’s house, Full of weaver bird’s nest in monsoon season, God has created everything for a reason. The grassy strands are woven into cosy, Intricate nests for their spouse. The male baya painstakingly
Along the road to an old city, within the wrinkles of mountains hanged by their heads, spiders are still spreading their webs at caves’ doors. Tales come out off embers, waiting for those who pass by. Canes which are forgetful
The idiosyncrasies of life, Are not difficult to survive. It does seem entangled like a cobweb But to a spider, cobwebs are their shed. Life sometimes has a bovine enthusiasm, Sometimes its fast pace gives me spasms. The idiosyncrasies of
Vengeance pumps through the hand That grips my blade. Anger powers The pistol in my other hand. My face is masked by death and darkness. I have seen a ruler have her breath stolen from her, But did not wield
The way rapists minds have taken shape- A girl is to blame for her own rape, To these animals so lecherous What are we girls-strictly diurnal creatures? Rapists say,“Girls can’t step out at night, A girl attacked should quietly allow
The moments seem endless, Entwined in the seamless mind, Days go by in seconds, Hapless and breathless. The beats of the heart, Not the ticking of the clock, Wait endlessly, For a hello or goodbye. Lost in the sands of
The fable resounds with absolute conviction, From the voice of her, so beautiful, Her, so beautiful bearing such an affliction, As to be wholly accepting of a language utterly mutable, In the night the love does grow, Like the elements
Most dabbled indulgences are not means to any end Attempts just plain perhaps for old afflictions to mend Each day breaks new dawn again onto the cyclical night Waited more than my share for reversal of chronic plight Weary of
I see no change In age.. For some years that were before, Childhood days were happy, Young age was to make merry. There was the sky and heaven, I was roaming as Romeo even. Then came established life; there was
I am a man with an Unreservedly positive frame of mind. Knowing that frames are fatefully important As matter and metaphor. I wear shirts chiefly made of roomy pockets Trope for optimism And space for the melange of likelihoods, On
All it takes is one mistake. Don’t make them last mistakes from the past. Beauty and the beast they met at the feast. Beauty played its part by residing in the heart. Appearances are kept by those who are adept.
Belonging to the not belonging, was becoming a method exploring the path. In the backyard unpleasant fumes were rising. Nocturnal swoop of enlightenment, clearly becomes a festival of yellow death. Who was hiding the truth? Flowering of the thought in sky,
The unbearable Sad and painful Trembling heart Brimming despair Wistful moments Brought us closer To the dreaded Inevitable point Of steeled separation Reluctantly To pay our debts We had to part Ever since then The wait Oh love And joy