Knives poems bring the best collection of short and long knives poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great knives rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these knives poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on knives are here for you.
Do not stare at full moon. The distance between love and hate has narrowed. Not for the shrunk radiation, sun wants to hide behind the gift of sunflowers. The golden ring on the black finger, I love the death’s cry,
I need not want to know for it, a dirty mind of lateral conjugation; of uncharted hopes. The name splits the long story. Everyone had a stain on chest, color roiling the heart. Dancing on the cocktail grass, they started
Midnight, A cold night in November. Mama braiding my hair with her hands so tender. Hearing moans of fright in the air, she said, That’s just your daddy and he’s having nightmares again. Mama why you puttin’ up all them
Death will not wait. Locked in bruises, I want eternity. Stinking pubes, micro to zero-gravity. Kernel rises like a star. Touch was not real How far you will go? Earth was collapsing. My father was right, Don’t climb to the
you wouldn’t know them except for their orders gliding like dolls hovering, footless, wearing bright dresses that brush the dusty floor the kind a proud mother would pick out then stand behind their chairs distracted trying to tame their cowlicks.
You crawled under my skin Like a needle for a tetanus shot But who knew That that needle would turn into a blade Causing me to be Unstable Untrustworthy Unfriendly You changed me for the better Until you became the
He refused to yield, and the stars were burning hot. Night was foggy, and the moon was hiding. His white, shriveled hands held the center of gravity. Obsessively he anchored himself in the muddled egos and bleeding knives. Somebody was
The Bygone years seldom had couple breaking up That was the period when intimacy meant sex and the couple had plenty of it too with off springs springing up too often having hardly a year gap between them Lady was
The moon casts a shadow stretching across cold murky water embraced by the winds all rushing towards their impending loss and men seek forgiveness for all their sins Ripples of water embrace their cold face as tiredness cajoles their drooping
Painful, we fight with verbal knives. As our women and men need no fight, Nor they should suffer any loss in that; But need to be paved in rough roads, From the husband’s office-rules, you say, The odds and orders,
Today, small things ask some uncomfortable questions. I enter the eye of a wound. Unscathed, will i obey the law of believing; the round mirror? It reflects the absolute truth? Consolations, they begin the attack in the valley of thoughts;
Life hurts hearts break easily time slips away right through your fingertips like sand on a beach or dirt on the ground leaving marks some noticeable some can’t be found Scars run down your arms leaving a trail of thoughts
Asphyxiated by curled hands. Punishment for tainted moon, it has floated down to darker side of continence. You push the body in wall, Coal burns in the eyes. The shadow at last, leaves the body. The high priest, goes for
It was widening, the rift, between waves and ocean: the resilience of depth was going to challenge the height of winds on the beach I stand against the sun empowered to face a solar eclipse unreal, something was sinister in
I’ve ruined the knife set apparently, there were five and now there are four. ‘It’s not my knife set to diminish’, no ones mentioned the stain on the floor! Perhaps because I used bin bags, made an effort for which
The show is on. Sedition will play with death now. Deceitful black knives, white gloves. No hope, battle lines are drawn. The wasps are whirring at a furious speed stings ready to inject venom. Bronzed body, huge turbaned skull. Eyes
Don’t let you heart become a paper boat sailing Towards childhood, Towards the harbour of its never returning fragrances. Don’t float towards its crescent moons if you could, Or the enchanting crooning of its past tenses. Don’t become an interpreter
I think of this sunthundered afternoon when spiderling superheroes in sandwich boards “6.99 Any Pizza” at crossroads wave at transport as it passes. Sunlight is too bright for you like that redhead in black gladiator sandals and little grey dress
What is music, one questions It’s something beyond the most vivid imagination Beyond the golden shine of the daffodil fields at sunset With their faint reflection in the crystal blue heavens above About the cherry rosettes delicately sewn on a
White blood cells from demon, Pinch of salt and honey It is mixture to heal the will and Accelerate spinning electron Gods and demons at all whispers Exist in spells arcane from ever Erased time and space Satellites located
Run along the gentle slope, And meet me by the tire swing. Smell of dry grasses rides the air, Opium clouds sleeping feverishly above, Hot rainwater sloshes gently, In the belly of the tire. This solitary tree, Filled with broken
It was a complete disaster. I will listen to moon tonight, while writing your name on bikini top, holding the pigeons. The birds had abandoned the walnut tree in haste. Between them can you see a butchered image of little
Forget me not, my vintage friend, though life in me takes flight. I’m with you now and always, though far and out of sight. Remember all the best of times and love that we both shared, and let those memories
She surfaced from the blue sea like Aphrodite’s child in all her splendor droplets of water sparkled on her body as if she were covered in precious diamonds. I walked over and offered my name she submitted hers so willingly.
Life is a series of relationships, Which come & go as time drips. A consolidated sequence of life is lew, But the list of happy moments are few. Living life with that only one, And not an analogy of some.
We hike till the bright sky turns to a murky night. Smiling with delight as we hike. Each of us filled to the brim with happiness, while enjoying life to the fullest. We hike in delight and in dislike. We
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,
I saw a mocking bird upon a tree, alone, chirping a tune the skill of imitation bore he as it sang amid the gloom. Children played in the fields adults conversed freely, but of the bird in the broken still
Do I need a Special Day, To tell you what my eyes always say. With you I laugh,with you I beam, In harmony we weave beautiful dreams. The bitter sweet squabbles,the illogical fights, Discussing the rights and wrongs till wee
My mother did many things right. But I’m thankful she taught me to be polite. Even with all that I struggles with in life, I never strayed from her advice. I needed her love more than dad’s. Not the many