Comma poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of comma poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on comma are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
My Teacher A lovely figure with fair face Rhythmically steps into the class. Melodiously flow the words From the parted red lips Are sweet to my ardent ears Flutters my heart Thrills my sensation Wins her heart There I am
The rain drops have poured right through my eyes Right again the scars reveals themselves again Shared the broken heart into pieces Wondering the knight might still come Telling the pain it over But pushes hard feeling me I let
I left you there!… Between semicolons and dashes, lost inside the days of future past, stuck in your grammatical mentality and lyrical augmentations… Even when you raised your punctuation you could not decipher my heart’s alphabet… Your comma kept jumping
Hopes filled and mostly disappointed A few of succeeded giving a courage A year called that at the end of midnight Put a comma and it continues same as In a cycle we ride the cycle Beyond the horizon some
A silence speaks up at ungreen age for an unknown, finding dark matter in hiddenness of sleazy light. A dove in the valley of tulips stops a flight for a wayfarer. What was that persisists, in envioronment and bunkers? Queen
They live in plain sight but hidden from view Attached to each person like a permanent tattoo They stretch before you in the morning and shrink at midday Its already to late when you realize you’re prey Waiting in silence
A nebula rises unfazed after fission: after a fractured debate, greed crouching on the wrinkled noses of rugged bouncers. In remote history someone was burning itself out. A black eye surges forward, sings an ode to championship. Ankles swell up.
Poetic misfortune, justice, and timing, at times fall flat on their faces, The beautifully cruel climate of the world, at times, Stomps on the head of logic and then turns around, Only to error on the side of tenderness, Dust
Part One – KaySee You message me, I respond to you. Just want to hang out, what was I to do? First two days, everything goes great. Presented yourself atop a pedestal, all that’s on my plate. Suddenly your thought’s
Shed the mood Blue Open your heart, feel the world which seems so new Things may not change, Many angels or demons will stay down the memory lane, Perspective and change in attitude is the clue, Shed the mood Blue.
For two days I stayed in a hill resort Opposite was a hill top, easy to conquer with little effort That was covered by many a variety of tree Without greenery, leaving few gaps, as free Those gaps looked like
looking at her, I glazed into her innocent eyes never knowing the false truth hidden in ’em never could I imagine that it was her, never knew it was her. looking at her, I gazed into her innocent eyes believing
Your oceanic eyes, deeper than the sunset. I lost the universe in your deific gaze. Eastern sky is dark, sunbeam left the land. Your hair spread over the highest mountain. The words you utter are more than just words. They
Though I could hardly breathe My heart raced within me. The sound of his voice excited me. I need to confront, lift my head up, admit to my mistake, love I deserted, but still crave. Did he forget, time erased
Walking on the streets nearby, a small pussy, I saw, Mewing, as abandoned, alone and aloof, so sad, Thirsty and hungry, I felt the need of saving and serving And took it home, to be blamed by my wife, as
It came without warning, no early whisper of fate Your body released you, there must be some mistake In the fury of loss, the mind and the heart are enemies Silent screams steer the wreckage on the forbidden quest for
If Time is measured on those moments spent, On instances we treasured, how it went, While based on heartbeats that we often hear, When to each other we have come so near, Time seemed so fast, and gone before we
Time purees And missing you No longer holds a shape “No Vacancies” Screams the sign No room at the inn Another place, then Another town Your scent, your voice Their colours fading slow Softly slip their moorings And are lost
Sadness……recall of lost love often brings, With bridge to Heaven shattered down and gone, When healing wounds open to added stings, Or subjected to some, if once there’s none; An hermitage is sprung by heart distraught, Free from intrusions of
The heart a magnificent work of art, amazing in its design, if you follow it you will shine, cause it’s for much more than pumping blood it carries very real feeling of sympathy and love. It also has compassion in
The old familiar sting, O blues hits in moments spent beneath the willow tree torn out faces, worn out places these memories’ll burn till I’m ashes Now more than ever, O shooting star I wish to come home where kisses
Morning came and dreams walked out, A savage life was knocking my door With harsh iron hands holding an unpalatable casket Loading grey flowers of troubles having colorful multitudes Immaterial my blinking desire, my aversion and perturb It ran in
Those two twinkling eyes, Hopes and fears filled her eyes, She was scared, scared of the future She had an unknown fear deeply seated Her heart sank as she realized the truth She was not happy, She wanted to go
Wearily wandering, silently by The dreams and the wishes of yesterday’s sky, Remembering far away promises made Just pieces of flotsam adrift in the shade, Like explorers of truthfulness they travel on, Until every connection with yesterday is gone, And
Love is a feeling that gives pleasure Which never ends, it is that treasure.. Love is walking together on the same way It brightens every moment of each day.. Love is when we like the person as such When we
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
Too careless what’s going on all around, Although in a cage she is kept and bound, The couple is not free and cannot fly, When she sees other birds in open sky, She turns his nibs to the pretty spouse,
(1) A flower is a colorful scrabbling over a garden’s cheeks and a flying kiss into air. (2) A flower is a state of confusion, whenever a stigma erects up into a silky bed. (3) A flower is martyrdom on
How to begin the journey of truth? it was moving away from all paths. No concrete answers were there, questions loomed large, a moaning confusion reigned. I moved inward, to open the door, I had to talk to my poems.