Heatwave poems bring the best collection of short and long heatwave poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great heatwave rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these heatwave poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on heatwave are here for you.
I remember well that sweltering summer. Sky bright at 1 am, no breeze to blow the dark in, blackout blinds and fans whispering. Still sleep was difficult, years before whale-song tapes and Victor Meldrew. Though we had our own versions.
You are golden Like the mysteries Of a lost, lonely jungle, A photographed crowd At a Victorian ball, A heatwave in spring, The laughter of wild animals, A winding ancient path That leads to a fortified town – The clown
Your cheeks, in red ochre rouged In dimples, the scarab dew slurps Eyes and teeth, a white flash sleight Stretch marks, varicose crossed, like The Anaconda’s swallowing strains. Your life restless, the nose suffocates Dawn disrupts as the feathers ruffled.
Riveted: the ducks went into a howl. A shirtless moon was walking on the lake. Darts had started moving towards blue lips. Gale was not able to speak. Unthinkable: sky will explode now, in stars. Gambling with water, cheating the
The evening wind tapped me on the shoulder gently and said: “Clouds will talk to you now” I turned around, looked up at the sky and drops filled my eyes. Daily I was drinking hemlock to understand my ignorance of
Tea welcomes in the morning the senses start awakening Tea carries a subtle charm the very nature of tea is harmony Tea has properties to invigorate among its other refreshing traits Some teas feature a grassy note of the order
When I look at you, I see a combination everlasting. A multitude of options moving ahead pushing forward. It’s no doubt that this life was meant for you and I to meet, if it was not, I’m confused to how
As I sit here alone with my thoughts and my fears, suffering the consequence of those bought social sneers, I can’t help but embrace the judgement from peers. A reality so true; I’m nothing more than a broken old gear.
This life has snubbed the bloom like a thick brown sac thrown on the sod. An octogenarian tries to slice the hope indulgingly to achieve immortality! Was it a virile snarl? A rose bud wrenched open in a fatherless home.
This time you would receive the two things from others. Violence or grace. Jealousy to your success, And grace to your failure. So, you should not be sad. Survival is meaningless without grace. Believe me, You are the king or
They slaughtered the icon in captivity as an act of mercy. To know the secret of madness why people were falling on knees? Outside a small narrative will give creased excuses. The spilled blood always instigates to drink from the
The same rhythm of a million years, Today is not today. The same rituals of splintering spheres, All acts of the same play. The same longing that filled The first vagrant lone poet. That grew and dreamt and then distilled,
Green earth, blue sky, sapphire sea Longtime a home for life to be Mother of all a vibrant womb Her children awry seal her doom Vast oceans the life-blood of all From its depths the first life did crawl What’s
This is for you. For someone very special in my life. This is the least I could do. At least, before my afterlife. I know how much we’ve been through. I know how much you’ve suffered. For you, this isn’t
Her arm was left out the window all night clamped at the pit which throbbed her heart hammering to do its job straining for the tiny capillaries going blue about the nail beds her arm flapped on the growing wind
Dark cloud looming. Moving slowly. But it’s there. Creeping in front of the sun’s path, dimming the light, inch by inch. Will it settle? Will it stay? Will it slide on by and keep on it’s way? Is there rain
Release from your own skin Soul is in shreds and leaks poison while wasting valuable Plasma on the pavement End result sub-par / sub-human No existence cruel than this Maybe… No. Yes… To exist without challenge Opposition does not exist
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…
Times are fast flowing taking away that Precious bit of prudence we held so close to soothe A strung up nerve from letting loose. Today, imagine Getting caught At the cross wire of a Boy of ten frail years Asking
Up here, the indecipherable universe Unfolds into a trillion starry mysteries Spreading light-years above The crowded frequencies of Earth Crackling in the atmosphere Transmitting to ten thousand towers of Babel Scattered across the hills like spores of static And the
Minor casualties dredging towards delicate situations It is a fool’s choice to be seeking binding sensations Regardless to say, this is a mythomane and moments of despondancy loom over in shame Untouched withdrawals nesting in places of repression and segregation
driving into twilight a warm day smelling of road dust crops in the field their low green bodies growing duller as the headlights come on the radio stations change format from news to music crepuscular animals are creep out skunks
Sumptuousness of the cafe, Sitting at the corner… Softly Decorated with glasses comforts of Air-Conditioner.. Silent faces unknown held down on phone-screen… Headphones and Ringtones like sounds of guillotine Inside the head-Rage and fire against the politics-bullshit of generation of
It is not on you, dear poet, but on your Nation, and its rulers, spread all over Their body, mind and soul; irreparable, Their cancerous thoughts and deeds; ‘The red salute’, they offer to all, a mean, Cheap and cruel
Imperishable, you keep the truth frozen like the marrow, in the limbs of life, producing blood cells when sun rises. Knocking again at a rapist door to leak the secrets of a hidden bed of polity. Contours of a dimmed