Deviance poems bring the best collection of short and long deviance poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great deviance rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these deviance poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on deviance are here for you.
There we met, at street seventy seventh; my friend who’d bowed down with altering features, and me with my clothes getting narrower. We could not find, in this chilly present, a tale to help us recline on the pavement’s stone.
She canters freedom like wind Gallops wilderness like fire And into metallic dreams She blazes banter with reverence- Only to chute through life’s greenbrier- letting seasons mark her deviance! As she gaits, bittersweet love is dinned with a shako of
Words and ideas can change the world! Yes,you gave us this hope. You gave voice to many of the dilemmas that churned in my mind. Day after day, night after night. But, one August morning, Not so august, though; Came
It’s good to leave your comfort zone Once or more in a while And travel to unknown lands To have a feel of life out there. It’s awesome visiting new places Meeting people of varied cultures Hear queer, unfamiliar languages
Exacerbating, falling in dust, searching the dead truths on pills of abandoned bodies of lies. The dawn brings out the trapped victims of transmigration from capricum to capricon. Then they commit a mass suicide around hymns to seduce the god
Such beautiful religions cutting across proclaiming love, sharing, forgiveness for all God came down earth while people followed got healed, blessed, punished and compassionately erect Yet some chose to balance against His pull proclaiming dissent to their years of belief
Daunting golden towers triples on a desert horizon Off the highway, – where is the caravan? Pierce your sword here into the tan dune side and let the aloe vera flow out; A paradox that lingers on chaffed lips –
Melancholic – she be described He says, turn the curve my child Dances she, feet on thorn Refashion thy scorn Darkness, she, into the wild Beloved, behold – nature beguiled Cries she – eyes dry Withhold, let me sigh Not
Being not poetical, how pitiful it is, Sometimes I sit somewhere and watch the Slew of mass flowing over dusty street And a strange thought dawns in my mind How poetical these rushing souls actually are? Perhaps I know these
Sixties came and went, As the seventies rolled in I was born upon my mother’s breast Last of four kids, I was the baby of the family Seventies were filled of adventure, fun, and games Learning new faces and names
Queues of the rising, Directions without compromising, In the heat of summer, Or autumn winds, Lift your face, And wear a proud chin. Where to move and how, Carefully seeded with or without, Sensible gains and losses, Or in the
Successful people Do not learn English, French, German, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Latin, Or, any other language! They Do not speak English, French, German, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Latin Or, any other language! They learn How to make
Did you not hear the fireworks last night when you kissed me? could you not taste the explosion? oh where was your spark? was it me? Did my teeth not dig deep enough into your collar bones? Did my hands
I want to laugh and laugh aloud, Like a free bird I want to discover every cloud, Want to cry and cry crisp, Keeping aside every sorrow I want to walk past brisk, Wander around in the streets for hours,
Desperate to be well My guts were manufacturing Barbed wire and I could feel Every yank of the sibling strands Grating of their braiding Bite of each marital point As the barbs were pinched Onto the endless line. Later, on
There in the beautiful garden where a joyful melody played and the flowers were happy with such musical day. Some dressed in pink and others In blue, roses were red and violets were blue, all of them in harmony danced
The spinning of the lattu! A louse sitting on it Derives pleasure from Pricking bellies Of fat mosquitoes! The consecutive electric poles Help the dogs immensely. Still they stand, and rust! The lattu falls on its side. The new waters
When you stretch your body with wind those moments I feel thrilling and zestful a serene and tranquil heaven for me and for your thirsty lovers it is restful Sharing your smile with galaxy of stars you are so delectable
The shells have not spared the lush slopes. There will be no flora left till dusk. The rocks have blocked the path behind. Chimney-climb not possible. The river-side is being bombed incessantly! A few bullets last in my pockets. And
When gloom abides with me tenaciously, To sap my mirth off lame delights you left, I hang on threads, dangling precariously, So loveless now, even of hope, bereft: How could you have chastised with so much stripes, And walk me
why dream cloud you hang so low? are all my dreams too much to hold? all my dreams they rain on me. it storms tonight so carelessly. the wind sings songs like symphoines. then thunder and lighting are drowned out.
You are welcoming, nice and caring Respectful, loyal and understanding Humorous, assertive, secure and true Always there… yes that’s you. Special, open-minded, exciting and wise Honest and helpful, with honest dark eyes Sympathetic, forgiving, cheerful and sweet Yes that’s you…
I saw the coffin of my daughter leave, Ashen faced and pale darkened lips, Her heart was dead and body cold, Listless she moved out of my threshold to horizons unseen. Turn back she would not, nor weep her doe
Today, go undivine with me and remain untouched, in dwindling love of faith. A forerunner of nothingness in a theological mess, breaking the mirrors in a slaughter house, finding a god. Collecting ruins of sounds, veils, traversing the fecundity of
It was not a demigod, elephantiasis of a beast, snakes sitting on head. A catastrophic tree view.I was proud of being alive during carpet-bombing. A catnip was needed to clear the vision. The town was moving out shedding its landmarks.
They’re playing jazz in Leavenworth, ersatz Bavarian tourist trap of Washington State, a brittle-fingered quartet sentenced to the cellar of a failed Bierpalast fake snow sweating down the cinder block walls. the musicians don’t care; music coats their stomachs extra
There’s a place,you may have forgotten about it. Hiding in your heart, only the child in you knows about it. It’s a place where you can find Aphrodite. Earth is still unknown of its beauty. Nature enriched by musical melodies.
Love like dewdrops, Awakens and glistens, Dances in my heart, Like flowers of spring. I behold you everywhere, In my heart’s deepest desire. With a song in my soul, In the quicksand of times. A soothing balm of life, The moonbeams
Exfoliated, I come to you, to scratch the blighted palace of the body, where a god lived once. Dervish, when did you stop whirling? The tomb is gone, the shroud tattered. I am collecting the withered roses. It rips open,