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,
The glittering tree And the shivering star Fused, Fusing, witnessed an unusual bond forming, formed, accompanied by wine oh so red oozed, oozing, from lip to lip, from eye to toe, quivered, quivering. Eventually Sanity struck and the blackness of
It has weakened my body, Made me a slave of medication, A mockery of the society, Isolated from others, Have missed childhood games, Missed the love of my age mates, Always on treatment, I feel like an experimental object, So
I am forever in awe, Of the world with so many surprises. The way it enfolds them When the right time arises. Forever in awe, Of the humans around, With such brains and thoughts profound. Always in awe of
Thought elevation Self integration Better to control A negative passion call Have a self talk A starry night walk Bad thoughts remain Talk to yourself again Positive emotions replace Negativity in this case Negative obsession out of control Order it
When I started seeing you, needs were accumulating. A great paradox. The price is high for stoicism. My inner life gets battering Give me something to think of escape. It was not a deliverance. I was learning daily from the
blemish of the needle in eye spreads: do you still see the moon in the hills, outstripping the aura of midnight? resilient, waiting for a renaissance, for a finger on the lips in dark, to read the symptoms, feeling floral
A golden bullet will bite the adolescence for the sake of prudence. Inebriated everybody wanted to go in a state of bliss. It was a targeted killing of a dream. Redolent of a prophet who will not answer the call
My name is Richa… Does it really matter?! It could’ve been Mala …Seema…Sita..Nirbhaya or even Chabili.. In the end I would’ve been married to a much older man.. or abandoned after impregnating in a forest.. I wash utensils …clean floors..
There are lovely seasons beyond compare that each has its own beauty, spring offers a birth of life to so many flowers and trees. Summer is the warmest season of all, the sun is the strongest on the blue sky
At times when the heart darts out before the words, And love spills over before dames all svelte and amused, By swooning to songs that blared ever so loud on the ears That even she could hear, Standing next to
Yes, you there, two seats in front. I see and hear you there, kicking, screaming, Determined to give your mother hell, Though you don’t know you are. You don’t know what you’re doing. All of us are born conservative that