Bangalore poems bring the best collection of short and long bangalore poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great bangalore rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these bangalore poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on bangalore are here for you.
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Like every morning, he has just returned from his office and is right in-front of one of his roommate and so called friend’s lappy’; Going through all previous messages sent by her on Facebook. No doubt, his life has been
About the book: Essence of these poems is being in love and the beautiful feeling it brings along. If you have ever been in love, you would feel connected! They also depict various dilemma one encounters in life. What we
About Book Veeransh is a book of Urdu/Hindustani poetry that puts forth powerful facets of human sensibility. Each poem makes one ponder over the inherent honesty that is often overlooked in the chaos of life. Artfully segregated into sher, ghazal,
About the book: These poems happened to me at random, insignificant moments. They are still damp, from loss. They manifest wild ways to look at ordinary things. I am picking up pieces of life And handing them over to you.
There is a thread so slender, connecting mother and child together, For eternity it will hold them fast,forever and ever it will last As the days and months and years go by, some things will make you happy, others will
Oh, please give me a break! I don’t speak the language That divide and categorize I don’t take pride in belonging to the groups It’s a sheer hypocrisy to which I won’t stoop I speak the language – the language
Liars are them who say aren’t afraid of the dark. Monsters under them bed they fear… The howl of wolf at a distance they hear… Liars are them who say they aren’t afraid of the dark. Marshy creeks. Silence shrieks.
The earth’s shadow thrusts its fangs into the flesh of the moon, yet the moon remains silent, bleeding the heavy light over the waters. It wounds me; its muteness – I would like to hear it yelling as howls the
School is considered as the second home to which many children for their future come, taking the first step of their life to become a hero in the strife A place which teaches us to dream, A place which reflects
We see good and evil in our world. To make sense of it great myths of the light and the dark have been born. Great stories down through the eons have flowed, great battles fought, forever being told. Gods in
As I stride with the side wind she lifts me, her shadow will catch me when I lose control. I am without doubt and incomplete reverse and form, I stand and watch a damp paper page squelched between two rocks,
When black ink spills across the sky The time when ravens roam the heavens When the mythical beast gobbles up the sun Robbing me of the light I need to survive It becomes too dark for my preference. Pitch-black, that
You become a chair. A dream sits in you for a graphic detail of pelvis. A trophy? Was it undecorous to present a cadaver walking on the earth? A serial killer wants a plaque on his grave after the verdict.
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
No more. Can’t take no more. Struggle with sanity is draining me dry with each passing day. People pride themselves in pruning their puritanical egos to ‘adhere’ and ‘belong’. Should I too? Because i ain’t me no more. Do I
When humanity first became aware, the world was a scary dangerous place. Everything was a mystery, nothing but survival at stake. We created gods to help us make sense. Gods became the catchall to explain the unknown. Gods became religions
Nature’s Marvel In the night sky, what should appear? A golden mantle created by a full harvest gold moon, as the reflective eye of an eagle, fluffy clouds in the shape of an eagle’s magnified head. Glowing golden moon beams
Their fingers gently interlocking, each clasped the other’s hand. In silence whilst they slowly walked, on the soft, warm, evening sand. Just an occasional inquiring glance, into the other’s eyes. Spirits in a romantic waltz, such depth of feeling a
They aren’t half as malicious as you make them to be, not half as cruel as your intentions can be. Gullible and docile, with wits so fragile, you wish you had been kinder. You toss and turn, till vicious they
Words Stick to my hands, cling to my fingers, hide under my elbow. A trembling poem loses its grip and drops on the sheet. Petrified! Alphabets behave funny these days. Like a mute child with an unbearable stomach-ache. Baffled phrases
She surfaced from the blue sea like Aphrodite’s child in all her splendor droplets of water sparkled on her body as if she were covered in precious diamonds. I walked over and offered my name she submitted hers so willingly.
Quixotic life brings wonderful thinking In such wee hour of foggy winter night Sitting on the spacious balcony with rural setting Feeling the favour of native care. With drowsy eyes. It is not uncommon in recent Thou has started to
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.
Routine Life has no string attached to it Everything is planned for the day It is presumed things move as programmed involvement in the daily chorus smacks the Human sensitivity each one is busy for fulfilling the days obligation Day
Drop by drop your blood is darkning Are you afraid what else is happening? Ever noticed the sun at the time of rising? Its the way satrs sacrifice their lightening Have you ever seen the dead lips smiling? Where maturity
They were that kind of people clapping with their heartbeat like caught fish slap their tails against the ground they cheated on life from time to time smiling with tight lips stretched in a straight line faking laughter clasping teeth
Time capsule in gangrene foot. It was madness of the legs. There were no sins in the ghetto. Only illicit distillation and girls changing the beds. It stinks when he says he was god. What was the ism of the
This was an embryonic stimulus for a sprint. Knowledge itself has no legs. Can you run faster than thoughts? The sniper will take you in the open field. I had hoped to die in your arms. The podium was too
Priests of cave temple go to sleep. Street urchins drink the thinner, eat nail polish, crushed lizard for a kick and then go without food for three days. The valley burns. Of what consequence? Sting of truth overreaches. Another committed