Campaign poems bring the best collection of short and long campaign poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great campaign rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these campaign poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on campaign are here for you.
They lie about my looks, That I have horns, an ugly face, scary, That my haven is ever burning screams, burnt flesh, Yuck! I’m beautiful, handsome, all you will ever want, If its wealth, who can outweigh me? Luxurious houses,
Europe my realm and my prized possession, I instill in thee our novel ideals, for your feudal laws our conquest repeals. Our boisterous wind of emancipation liberates Spain from draconian inquisition. Of the proud Brit’s stupendous earning power, an Egyptian
Beneath the lipstick, make-up and behind the smile, She is just a model who poses before you; for a while; Between the lines; below the sentences; She domains, Dressed up in white, with an angelic look; she remains. Human or
“At least eighty dead,” is all you’ve said…. As that charred colossus, Grenfell, towers overhead. The hopes and fears of those you loved, Dead. Those missing, without mention, who died, without dying, who cried, without crying. The faceless, euphemised headlines
Did you foresee it? It was coming. The freaked guilt of failed attempt to get yourself kissed by a flame in the androgynous temptation of dark. One legitimate delay in dying of moon’s tears? The weather had fizzled out during
In the road to the South, which hasn’t ended yet, from the yet not finished North, at the ball’s surface which had lost its center and produced sacred shrines fighting each other all along the road, there, that white tree
What they told us about Capitalism: We were told capitalism creates wealth, we were told capitalism brings the best in man, and with it, individual’s potentials are certainly attainable; we were told individual dreams and aspirations easily come to fruition
If hate was becoming an absolute truth and love was transcending lies where do we go now? This daily life, I was seeing the pain of troubled identity, turning into punishment of unbecoming. The hired untruths are killing the tender
Hail to you o gracious guest The most awaited and cherished Alighting majestically onto the earth With splendid ceremony of a real king Whose eventful advent does signal A fast retreat of the winter chill That has been rather unkind
While going away from you These thoughts came impromptu I love you my lovely Chicku Your purity and purity of Holy fire are akin You are the most cute and innocent face I have ever seen I can listen to
I’ll teach you how to read How soft the pages feel underneath your rough fingertips I’ll teach you how to play the violin, How music reveals what’s been hidden for years I’ll teach you how to braid your hair To
You went blank on the line between sand and water, between seizure and assault. The tribes have unwrapped their torches, they are coming in numbers. Who was going on trial? Fierce fidelity is demanding vendetta. The drummer announces the fight.
If the bees can’t sting within their wax how can they attack outside? if a snake can’t swallow a dead rat what about a flying bat? the lion has shed tears when a rabbit intruded his territory. A tilapia has
Those who have books shine With lively bright colour twine. Books – a Daniel – be in shrine To take us all up with whine. Saraswati, indeed, did opine My talents with saccharine And help me for Her to reassign
When something exists, the opposite does too Black and white, hot and cold, old and new Love and hate, heaven and hell, left and right North and South, peace and war, day and night To give, to fix, to begin,
Sound Many sounds Living sounds A world is built with sounds Who is speaking? There are emotions Is madness an emotion? The question A common noise Out of the endless loop of noise a sound emerges Can you hear it?
You said it was a sin to trade for the hunger. I was looking into your eyes, something was amiss, tears had become stones. How long your breast was carrying this despair? You said it was a crime to hold
The wind is blowing through the trees See it rustle each and every leaf Watch it move the trees again See them wave and the branches bend There are dry leaves on the ground Hear the dry crunching sound See
Tried , Recalled and Moved backward in Timeless times of Total Recall ! Tried , Tried , Tried and Tried to Recall the Timeless countless times and my words Totally Recoiled into Silence ! Silence is the Elixir now that
It’s here, and then it’s not. That untimely moment that we fear our minds have just ‘forgot’ who we are, and why we’re here. Why did we never reach that bar? We’re no longer our own puppateer. In the past
I lift my pen today To write something Something about which Many a thousand lines Written by many a great people Yet I cannot for sure Define what we call it ‘love’. Love is not jealous, they say Love is
Here I stand, on the land where you wish me to dig my own grave with few seeds in my clenched fists hiding them from your glance Watching you write on my gravestone a name you gave me, ‘Frailty’, though
What if you could tell A person’s special talent From a single glance? Shown in a symbol, Branded on their bodies, so All the world can see. Maybe, for instance, Musicians would have a note, Florists, a flower, Bakers, loaves
Guess what I am writing about? A strange phenomenon of recent times. Bright and Colorful, depicts interesting times… Takes off the monotony, a peep into lives… Success epics , someone’s frustrations galore, Wise ones’ words repeated, in circles of lore!
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