Dialogue poems bring the best collection of short and long dialogue poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great dialogue rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these dialogue poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on dialogue are here for you.
Drowning her children back in her womb, a big tear rolls down the cheek of earth. She was sitting on broken bones to watch the terror, ear for ear to listen, eye for eye to see. Hope was becoming ephemeral.
It takes two and preferably some place for settling down to administer its ways. Concurrent voices condoning each line which voices offer to be tried for size concatenate the assemblage of lines that with the swell and tonal foam must
Tired ,frustrated from Life and job I have a Dialogue with God , With eyes closed, I ask , Dear God what is Happiness ? Is Happiness subjective and just one’s perspective. Or is it Utopian, With rich for more,
Like a picture postcard from a city, A city frozen in another time. Living its own distorted reality, On the mantel piece of the sky line. The old building – a marooned ark, Amidst that ocean of newness. Currents that
An autopsy was being conducted with brutality to silence the rising dialogue, pulling out the lethal crunch of scripted history. You want the kiss of a parting grain. A secondhand face crops up in a newspaper. Are you ashamed of
The path disappears under the foot. Gently I lay down the book and start reading the blank page. Stainless thoughts.I strip to root. A stunning revelation about a tinned dialogue. Blue hydrangeas were telling something. It was time to become
A dialogue with fear, to end the thought, was walking alone on the edge of death. All the mercy of life was with it. Gone were the waves, whispering, back to the sea of mundane paucities. The sky and the
Walking on dead leaves covering the grass to and fro, to and fro in solitude, hiding behind the mask, pithy face, ideas rebounding, a loaded eloquence, opening a dialogue with self, quietly bleeding inside. You are hearing the sounds of
That tribal instinct sits in the denial. Words fly in fog carrying absurd meanings. I was ready for the impeachment. Like a pinned butterfly you lived several times, repeating a dialogue on a mindless thought. From nothing to nothingness, you
Night after night, with the stillness of death, dreams flashing on the screen of the mind, rasping breath going of like minute bombs thru’ the constant o of the mouth, groping hands giving off carbonic fumes, sculpturing odoriferous forms, abstract
One face, two lines, three soliloquies, four sets… The list goes on of what all I’ve done. And yet, you don’t know everything that I’ve made. Well, it’s able time to show you. Look around. Do you see what all
The flesh was putting up a brave dialogue. I was willing to play the game. Stunned, shocked, pleasantly sore basking in heat of silk throat, I asked the needles to go ahead and stitch the wounds without loss of blood.
In the absence of a consenting moon half my night was in disarray, the density of poems was draining out the grape wine from the eyes. This amphitheater of your life: where you are spectator and you are a player,
I was a high-ranking official In the United States Army; Any further details Would surely come back to harm me. I must remain anonymous Or else face the consequence; But you would not believe What — who — has come
Lips tremble like sentinels when legs burn like candles whole night, in the pocket a grenade explodes; a girl gets raped in broad day light to receive a compensation under a leaky roof of frozen hunger: the emptiness in bed
The spectre of falling towers in night unfolds in awe. A reclusive star rises in east at dawn. Heart of pig was being readied for implant, tallies with the seizured hollow of a man. A young girl of seventeen, comes
Was it a spiritual failure of a man to become an animal effortlessly? and how difficult it was to change the street’s crowd? In the human drama no dialogue ends. It begins again and the hero replays the tragedy. The
Living on fringe he was stealing genes. Fear of rebirth started a dialogue with death! Ignited by an asexual urge the belly went into flames. The super star dived in sea dragging down his old father. The sleek content of
The seizure, volatile it was, the way to tell, for the things he did not want to say. You suffer silently. Coming to boiling point, for the starkness of the torture. The abridged wholeness was empty. Only howling remained. Can
This overwhelming emptiness: something to present allegorical, figuratively, which is not here. Vultures were coming back. A stimulating dialogue must start to release the hostages of unknown fears. The menacing fog was towering over statements. Everything was turning into coal
I wonder, sometimes, why it is a fact, A gifted, handsome man should be alone. My iambic pentameter’s intact, And yet I tend to lyric on my own. Alliteration alienates romance. The ladies scorn my struggle with cliché They scoff,
I lay in bed Listening to the hammering rain Pit pat pit pat Beating on the window pane I gaze at these racing drops Hitting a different note each fall Spreading the fragrance in the air Of their rendezvous with
Beautiful girls formless of criminal honesty falling in love with endymion a wave is furrowed on the forehead of selene, envy or a genetic trigger starts a nightmare fading star heralds a gray moon leaves are falling like my words
He halted.. Snuffing the air, he turned tail and galloped off. Still, Without much delay, We gallantly dragged our efforts; shooting at the poor beast in hot pursuit I was unwilling in this sport. In my heart of hearts I
While my ten fingers are busy forming the letters into words, A thousand thoughts forming in my mind as it creates something to accord. A tons of things to ponder and wonder, A lot of imaginations to expand and discover.
The wind speaks my heart out, The rain washes my soul out, Into nature’s lap, Where I can peacefully take a nap. In this rat race of life, Time played the distorted fife, Where I was left with no vitality,
If someone says good days will come I welcome But feel that mine is in-depth a shy welcome For that great concept all have to be in everything good Peruse individually elements of goodness we should Everyone must decide to
(1) A cigarette is a green tale inside a white coffin; Her shoe is a hat, its end a line of smoke. (2) A cigarette is milk falling from breasts; Mouths are swings hanged on Oedipus complex. (3) A cigar
And painted so Although I am instead Just red Around the corners of my nose Where the nostrils bend inwards Towards the life giving mucus To germs and what not I am also Black with dirt Under my otherwise Surgically
The coming of a that to dismantle the comb, unstilling trees under tracer bullets swaying in embrace for moonmilk. The unzipped planktons in sea open their mouth to supermoon for a night dive in a green passion. Does it need
Open the door and usher in some light watch the dismal darkness fade away. Question your sorrow, your beliefs, ponder what was good, forget the bad. Bury the visions that haunt you, they are but ghosts of time gone by.
Like a beautiful woman standing tall, wrapped with a shawl amidst the mist; there exists a seine between what is & what can’t be! And though it’s made up of mere words; it keeps one safe from rash assertion! Like
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