Distortion poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of distortion poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on distortion are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Innocent inside the circle, you reached nowhere. Dirty hands on the knob kept the century locked. Carbon footprints were deepening under the sun, blue bird circling in vain. The jealous moon exiled to black hole. The dust of the brutal
Melting into this monotonous moment The faded clock twists into oblivion Sweet distortion echos, so very potent As I ponder my made decision Choices tangle into my deep dark fate As I deeply dwell on these many past mistakes I
They are treated as mere numbers of human consequence, dotted ubiquitously on the front pages of tabloids and newspapers. They are figures that scatter my article weekly- seemingly just another number that the eyes will so casually scan over. Sometime
One day, I was sitting alone with compassion, Studious thoughts were flowing in my mind rigorously, That I was alone in this world, Nobody is there with me, how can I achieve my dream, Hope that Love should always be
Assembled casualty, repetition of conflict from the time of its start until the approach inside your heart, just before the last beat. Instrumental are the events that correspond and implement an almost unjust desire, circumvent any time spent and repent.
It’s said search for happiness Is the main reason for unhappiness All our life we search for happiness, We wait for some big happiness to come our way In the run, in the rush to get some big happiness We
Sixth sense, a magical phenomenon, a super natural phenomenon, a gift bestowed upon some people by the Supreme Lord. Each and everyone has got sixth sense; Only those who are spiritually connected to God, Experience the direct perception of truth.
We walk the deserted streets of my city. The scorching hot cement sizzles that transparent vibration that warmth has under the light of day. We go from empty shops to empty museums to empty shops again, staring at blank walls
You ask about these tears These tears I cry…. Rolling down my face With every heave and sigh For a dying world Drowning in misery And hate ……These tears I cry For the lonely, The dying and The socially displaced
I’m scrunched in partially obscured view seating, hands at my temples, elbows pressed to the balcony rail. Look up, Sherman Alexie! I squint through borrowed glasses, willing your signature pen to drop, your writer’s eyes to find me. I’m cheap.
rapture by the daily musical affairs of life in strides of flashes and bittersweet escapades with females that left in trials of bruises and bashes of the ego and the mind. I’m trying to capture the brilliance that is the
As the day slips behind the cliffs On the far-off horizon Taking along its glorious lamp And all the warm sunshine The earth looks down wearied All hustle and bustle comes to close The world enveloped in darkness Retires to
Dream on all ye decedents of Kunta Boldly go wherever you dared to go Be happy ,sing aloud Hakunamatata Dream of the precious gems of Congo Dream on Africa ,Dream Mr .Kenyatta . Dream on all ye daughters of Africa
Dear Bird, my bosom friend, Preach me thy living-art Weaned of all wicked craft, Enable wash filthy taint, Unveil yet another phase, My own – still hidden- face ! Thus, living a truer life -To the content of heart and
My room was the old garage attached to the house festooned with posters and dirty underpants my father’s Mercedes was a sacred relic with a flavor of old leather upholstery. It rested in its own building. there must have been
The name calls the name spraying the moon with red colour. It touches a nerve, when there is standoff on the lake. A blueish eye invades an iron space between near solids of docks. The gap was widening and the
No more bad thoughts its gotta stop Be positive and grateful for all I’ve got No more mental breakdowns keep it together I can’t be mentally unstable for ever It’s the start of a new beginning today I must block
The aesthetic beauty of twilight , Reminds of a lost soul, In the fleeting moment of bygone years, That vanished to oblivion, Surfacing in the sea of thoughts, To bring back the silent hopes, Wishfully strewn in path of life.
His skin is the color of dark chocolate, his complexion is flawless, his eyes are caramel; they are big and beautiful, but they have a hint of sadness in it. He looks lost. His eyes seem to wonder a lot,
I remember when I was just 16, So much of my life was yet unseen. I was searching for something to help me discover, What set me apart, made me different from others. And there in my neighborhood, where we
Global revolution is in the air. Not militarily, but technologically. It will be no less disruptive to world order, in fact it will be many magnitudes more. Technology tsunamis will churn across the globe and back again,washing away the old
Before the spill there was soaring. And then anti-g. I readied myself for the ultimate fall. This was the poetry of submission sharing the pain of disillusionment. Who was pretending of liberation in a see-through heart? This was the time
If you can’t open your eyes and see the beauty of surroundings within you, If you can’t hear the sounds and hear the songs of the birds chirping, If you can’t smell the freshness of air, For you, I will
Delight in a day that’s been borrowed to you Your life, a dream it’s given to you, all in a day you say thank you. The children their laughter heart melting and true. A thought that’s been given to you,
Just before the darkest hour I saw a dawn breaking there was this angel standing she looked withered and tired. her wings ruffled and torn I got up to help but she yelled stop don’t hurt me anymore I can’t