Bending poems bring the best collection of short and long bending poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great bending rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these bending poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on bending are here for you.
Self-realisation does not come when you expect it. It is beyond being aware or understanding your situation. It involves radical thinking Awakening happens when you’re fed up And you want to break the vicious cycle Unchain yourself from what society
Trees all around me. Trees moving with wind. Wind is making the trees bend. Trees bending, but not breaking with the wind. Trees are like my life. Moving with the wind. I’m bending with the wind, But I’m not breaking,
Whenever, I feel tired and exhausted, From life’s monotonous routine, I go to my courtyard Theatre, On the enormous screen, Watching the free natural movie scenes, Projected by The Almighty Producer. The scenes change there with the passage, Of the
Cu-sith roam and howl to the moon Venting their anger in audible form Across the woods their voices roam Sending chills to those in their home. Spoken of as legends and myth The Cu-sith chase and hunt Magic in their
After bending the oracle, there was participation in voice of grievers. The child of sun was dead in arms of nature. It moves, when I thought it was stillborn, the history of mankind. In the saddest day today, I believe
The user keeps robbing the soul. The circulation of lies spinning the arrow my way. Why can’t love be reciprocated? Agony plagues the heart. Deception hovers over the mind. Why the heart and the mind cannot be at peace? The
After the moon it was an unkempt night. I wanted to kill the narrative and recast the frozen history. A dirt road leads to a new trajectory now, splattered with blood. A double tongued thought brings the ire of screaming
Too tired to sleep on in the morning, I wake up afraid of my own dreams, when the garbage truck arrives at my backdoor.Those men collecting everything with gloves, their tanned and hardened skin. They’re my stepbrothers because they feel
Floaters swim in acrid clouds, I watch myself killed by me, the image was real, oracular ashen grey, sitting on a sand dune I listen to the silence of bending and roaring faults, the life repeats the mistake, possessed, chasing
She walks boldy with confidence. She walks awoken with consciousness. She walks with her head held high as she looks upon Her Father in the heavenly sky. As she walks by they get one glance into her eyes. Something that
The Singapore-schooled child Is bonsai-born to perfection; His hair doesn’t grow wild; His mind has no inflection. He is just the rare inquiline His islanded government ordered For in his rinsed head is recorded A rhyme: toe the line or
Standing alone staring at the flowing stream Saw those many floating with a swing and a beam And then came this slender tender one Dancing in the jocund company of another one For a while I thought it stopped at
With frugal memory you wanted to tame the radical spine, while fright was bending the thighs. Was it a travesty of the graduated thumb? The speed of the river had accelerated in aching land. People gathered to collect the alms
The storms rage on, beating brows and bending backs Trees in the winds; swaying else they may snap Collars pulled tight and heads bowed down Not daring to look up at the deluge all around Through gloomy days and long,
“I Love You ” this was what she said to him The riverside, green grass cover and moonlight dim Waiting for “Yes” there she was bending down on her knees It took her guts to ask, after all those friend’s
We are encrypted likenesses of reality born out of trust between blankness and fingertips when knowledge leads and potential follows folding and rolling and bending. Intricate patterns, cumbersome schemes are woven into our souls. Tension within us aches for release.
Something is just not right, When I roam these places.. Only thing that’s in my sight; The same weary faces…. Indifference to what’s going on, Every where the same problem.. What we had it’s gone, And not even a trace
Bright eyes, puckered lips Intensified by the moment, wanting it to be perfect Craving fame. Preparations manifold To derive the face to outshine any other Terrificly mesmerizing. Devices outsmarting the smartest Desire for renown numbs the human intellect Nudging them
The sea claims, here you are at my door. Leave behind the bustling streets. Walk up to me, pardon my storminess. Bury your feet in my sand and close your eyes. I shall salve you of endless perplexity and unrest.
DREAM Ambling on beach in dark when the lake laps at the feet. Sometimes I wish to walk away on the water like a dragonfly. MORNING Trying to figure out what happened? Lake Huron went into flames! MOONLIGHT Up, above
Who am I? A pure soul who’s supposed to witness slaughtering of dreams and souls but never reveal for the sake of graffiti Who am I? A beauty to be shown off and endure every pain without a single drop
Community divisions Shatter all livings Trust, respect and honor One and each other You do not need a donor You need a good mother Kids would learn by watching Much more than they learn by listening The value of trust
Spitting the blood, he said, every winter for few days – he would feel outcast and there was pain in the idea of pain, but he wanted to live without a painkiller. Sometimes he will singe his hands on a
The sullen rains have settled in, Every hungry mind is parched. Every wandering soul That ever marched Has found its peace and Has made its tryst with happiness. Except for you! The hopeless wanderer! You were restless before, You are
A tavern Simple-complex, happy-low, A water hole full of regulars Heartbroken, shy or smitten Wealthy or wily smugglers. A rustic smoking a cigar, Passing colloquial remarks, A skillful pianist playing, A journey an artist embarks. A wanderer at heart, I
Things have not looked up Since the end of that war. We have tried our best! But It seems that we are doomed! People have lost all hopes… The Asuras should be happy. They are in distress too though. Uncle
Love is laughter. Love is knowing that you have someone to turn to. Love is looking at her and thinking she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. Love is being silly sometimes, but that makes you love her more.