Denying poems bring the best collection of short and long denying poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great denying rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these denying poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on denying are here for you.
For years I have been plagued with insecurity Only to have believed to find myself And with a gust of inspiration I took a chance to share happiness But like a winter’s harvest There was nothing left to salvage at
I shall never forget that there are the unfortunate ones who would give anything just to be able to have one moment of recall. But they cannot, because of sickness or disease. Our hearts cry out for these, and may
My gypsy soul, my gypsy soul, oh we are on the move once more. To hidden valleys and secret places, to hear the ocean’s almighty roar. I long gave up in denying the yearning of opening my wings to soar.
(Britain, post-referendum) Dear Mister Prime Minister, Was it worth it? Was it worth cutting off Our country’s trade benefits, our commodity trade, Like the testicles of a prizewinning bull? Was it worth it? Was it worth tightening our borders, Like
Life sans light They are sitting in a remote dark room to relax without switching on light. For they want a real light that brings peace and solace in their laborious humdrum life. They toil from dawn to dusk without
Sound of footfalls was drawing near; the tiger has been set free. In the wild landscape you need some feverfew. Death was constantly stalking to trade off the dolls in lieu of sameness of the stones. The shifting sand drips
Angelic, able-bodied and adventurous amateurs aimed awkwardly at associates after attempting another assassination. Beleaguered, beaten and broken beasts barely breathing; bathed in beautiful basins. Begging became boasting beyond borders and busty brides blushed before being bought by bashful brutes. Camps
Alone inside but, encircled by people invisible to any significance in your eyes, Empty and sorrowful, even a smile is too expensive for you, there is a whisper in you, a hushed voice, the only drive that pushes anything to
Your scintillating albedo, enters my soul, Pouring your smell, splendid in dole, Love’s act of mime, in shadowy cloud, My soul speaks lie, seeking you aloud, Dreary your play, tests my patience, Your shadow forwards, your eclipsing cadence, Veiling the
Meaninglessly traversing into the havoc of vanity With a fake logic justified, Leaving the players into the deathly chasm. A Blue bottle game denying the soul of life! Two and two they say ten, And it is their game playing
Love is super, love is supreme, love is an ever flowing captivating stream. Love is forgiving, love is so kind, love can be sweeter than the finest of wines. True love will stand the test of time. Love is Divine.
In an unfamiliar thorny place, My grandparents’ home stood. Gone were the sounds of voices Sign of life swallowed up. The spot where we played, Path where the grass faded trampled on by footsteps, gone. So were my childhood references.
loggerhead turtles drawn to the moon become distracted, lured by airport beacons to die in strange terrain here in day’s dry whiteness lizards endlessly pause, and bats caper through clustering dusks of vines and lemons drawn from solar cells water
The discomfort of self, the sheath of truth crumbled by the church preaching ignorance and bitterness God does not look upon you with grace and love, this is what they tell you You are poisoned, grotesque, morbid, monstrous, and vile
On a tapestry of alpine wildflowers A variety of butterflies,from big Monarch To tiny mauve colored and dainty,flit about From flower to flower. Wild roses creating an aromatic boundary Around this pristine alpine wildflower carpeted Meadow. Truly enhancing! Sunshine, flooding
Happiness lies in : Finding joy in little things, Every little blessing, Significance of the insignificant, Enjoying every moment of life. Graceful aging with beauty, Gazes growing with love, Waking up to a new dawn, Admiring the tiniest things. Moments
She went with the breeze,didn’t care what people teased. Narked,she told them please,just mind your own debris. Soaring like an eagle,she showed people her regal. They were filled with envy,but she was as happy as can be. Praising the lord
Heady times and nearing dusk, A day as any other, As sudden as a storm at sea My beloved is taken! Gone! ……drawn from me with no warning. My world lies desolate and shaken, Consumed by a catastrophe, A world already
It keeps raining everything has become damp, I can feel the mist inside my head. Wooden doors don’t close anymore, windows don’t shut to keep the water out, I feel like drowning in this flood, and it keeps raining still….
Hi Elim, Your parents gave you a very special name when you were born. Your name is a place in a Middle Eastern Desert meaning “Oak”. Yes, it’s a strong tree, which is how they envisioned you to be. But
Her cryptic soul a storehouse of overflowing emotions. Guarded by the invisible cloak Her mind, a mess, the questions that raise. The shadows by her which stalk The body, the soul, The mind that howl All of her lost in
Looking at the starry sky on this new moon night Standing on this endless field of grass Everything else but one seems important, That you and I existed together, ever so entangled, For however brief a while on the timeline
Inadequately the clouds covered the moon the wind was soft and silky. The death of shadow was not complete. Stars had fled from groans of night. In the still room poor sentences could not compete with the innocence of emptiness
Beneath a pile of dust, on a slumbering shelf, in a room which knows not the wind, I’d stumbled with a white-haired aphorism telling that your heart is your enemy; If it inclines left, go right; if it betakes right,
The interior with The stillness Neatness and Coldness Of a tax office Is as awesome and fearful As a cemetery at midnight Some unseen eerie presence Is all over spilling the space Of this cold chest One would be in
For the dream slaves the incense has become a moon for the alchemic effect of tear’s stain in erotic war. Ask a mooner, will he bring her to bed for a song to measure the cantus between flight of strings
Thought shook through me thrilled with a sense of poignant pictures came thronging in panic haste tinsel glitter of empty titles thrilled by fresh and indescribable odors through a cycle of many ages endless and labyrinthine sentences thrilled to the
In the forest the summer steam retreats Confusion breaks like a fever, sudden Relief flooding the mind with quiet murmurs A symphony of whispers cover the screams And tears evaporate as the cry dies on your lips The shadows listen
The waves crash at your threshold. You had given me lot of tears: I was dying in me- in veiled existence. I want to hear me loudly; my secret coming, across the book in black box. The androgynous deity limping
My shadow couldn’t find the mirror In the meadow of terror and horror Unseen deeds won’t see any of my face Not for sigh, stare, and amaze in balance Covered lips keep a thousand smiles Through the undone life and
Men have become immune to stress. Men have become resistant to mess. Who made you and me immune and resistant? It is the new world order don’t be so hesitant. A new world order where we play with bombs. Where
Routine activities seldom add pages to the life’s file while human sentimental values take back stage When my daughter decided to re-settle abroad I felt happy for her taking the path of prosperity As the D-day of her departure neared