Extremes poems bring the best collection of short and long extremes poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great extremes rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these extremes poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on extremes are here for you.
(1) Tents are crowded by windows, but missing walls and a jasmine flower. (2) A window is a border between consciousness and sub-consciousness, between Ego and its annihilation. (3) A home without a window is a blind man with no
Poetry doesn’t just happen. It’s not just a bunch of words grabbed hastily and arranged to rhyme, it’s not even a so called overflow of emotions. Poetry is much more than that. It’s the silence that echoes within your being,
Call me time and again an incurable romantic. accuse me offensively of revering unrealism. laugh at me heartlessly for I over-idealize you. or just leave me forlorn, if I’m gallingly tractable. but I’ve a warm, not weak, heart. I sincerely
My life depends on how fast you unload Ephemeral me; who prays for either too hot or too cold I sustain such extremes for my survival I pray for some reuse before recycle You chat and engage for long is
If time stops for no one, not even for love A straight line unbroken from morning to dusk Then my life is hollow, there’s nothing spellbound And seasons of living are well traveled ground If life’s made of spaces instead
Sorrow & comfort, Opposite extremes. Wisdom invites each soul to those scenes. Terms of life are never all kind, riddled with strife, leave achieves behind. Highest expressions Can make one so tall, But unbridled grief will cause one to fall.
Meditating quietly, On the self within, In the serene calm of mind Devoid of motion or sound Every day, Like a vibration, With a speed of thought, I travel manifold universes & Beyond, Amusing my-self In various lokas¹, Ever shining,
A gunny sack was full of bleached skulls. What now? Do I attend the auction of mortal wounds in hidden valley of dust? The arsenal of seductive weapons was a snub to your culture when the fall of extremes was
My love, we ventured deep in raging storms, Have groped in fogs, plodded on snow, Endured the scroll, aligned to rules and norms, Would we then die in calm, when no winds blow? For ships are stranded in such windless
Human relations are complex in nature Relationships may sway extremes from in separable to invisible It takes years to understand and feel comfortable with each other It takes a moment to destroy the love and faith that was built over
We are encrypted likenesses of reality born out of trust between blankness and fingertips when knowledge leads and potential follows folding and rolling and bending. Intricate patterns, cumbersome schemes are woven into our souls. Tension within us aches for release.
Oh! Little lovely shoes,big broad mind…yes she is gentle and she never whines…. Shiny eyes with those big glasses…oh yes! She never bunks classes Call her geek, call her nerd..she finds these things really absurd Big baggy shirts, messy hair
More powerful than a sword it feels, One way flow, the only flow Can be controlled, can’t be too. Tactfully used, it can take you far Rashly used, it will take you down. Though easy maintenance, use it sparse. Far
I went to see the Louvre Thousand paintings but a good few Hundreds of people roaming here and there But not a single friend like you.. Happy,sad,blessed moments We had the pictures framed upon these walls Each picture saying something
Black rain filtered down the cobble stone, catching the moon, almost making a white streak of what looked like paint, as it found the large grated drains As morning came, transformations of colours form, as oil slick from the Lorries,
When you wake up. Is it worth it. Facing another day. Feeling nothing but psychological pain. Feeling like no one cares about you. Thinking that your life is worthless. Feeling that your insignificant. Knowing you have freinds but feeling alone.
What the human mind can conjure.There is a Creator, in my mind there is no doubt. To some degree I can know a man’s mind, but the Creator’s mind is beyond mine to know. There are charlatans amongst us who’ll
“Appa, your kinda song” called out Aadi My kind? Listened, liked it instantly and That has set the ball rolling on a peep into Mumbai, may be many things to many a man Gun totting gangsters, trigger happy cops, Starlit
In lunatic scape of fringed labellum the creeping malignancy was advancing. i missed a rendezvous with moon when you had brought a blue kiss from abducted lips; again I become a sisypus lifting the rock off your comets of round
Though words are cheap, and often said, By the tongue of fools, some are lead. In the darkness of night, they lay await, To guide the weak, to their fate. When they gain, their victims trust, Then they cause, their
In the world of viruses criminatory Quick Heal is the best category Which I chose as my advisory And freely continued my story. Viruses made my PC dilatory; Looking into browsers defamatory, Inserting memory cards accusatory, Unsafe browsing was dormitory
Once done, my words in your mind will bury. Where my eyes were once of warm flames dancing Your paradigms replaced them with fury Lest it stops, my heart persists on beating Little I have left for spark’s ignition But
In search of solace I strayed into a world! There between dream and reality I wandered….. I wandered all alone forever and a day until….. until perfection was a being and flawless was familiar! A kingdom to the I and
A randon creation convulsed by grief. Death of a pendant was not able to recall the cleavage. Kosher scream, the grandchildren will not know the fakes of reality show, pure as honey, then the scratching starts: look the tiger was
Your eyes are like snake so charming and so warming Your gait is like a deer which give impression of beer Your all other body gestures are so daring and alarming I have taken you in being wonderfully near and
Along the way to Washington, a red Indian is still holding in his hands his scalp and a quiver filled with stock exchange, while not comprehending why European prisoners carried old Athens on the ship of Columbus and settled at
Past, past and gone past Do they ever anything cast? They do. They mould. They shape, they truly cast The actions of present And advent future To be or not to be To abide or glide. Comers will be coming