Mcleod poems bring the best collection of short and long mcleod poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great mcleod rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these mcleod poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on mcleod are here for you.
The poet in cornucopian Singapore Is an ergonomic misadventure; He’s little less and little more The definitive backbencher; He cannot sit easy At his table or in his chair Without wondering where He fits in the economy! Poet! When asked
Creaking doors in the attic Crying like ocean waves Wind singing through the canopy As the piano starts to play. Evil voice moaning lullabies Heavy footsteps are in sight Bloody-red eyes in the dark shades How haunted this world is.
There is a life lesson found upon your lips. A secret to life transcendence. No longer consistent to the thought of what happens next. This is the value of your lips. A connection of where dream becomes reality. Curious to
The falling poem was in bruising gamble of winter of troubled life, bound to a staircase: up and down up and down, on the rosette of grieving thighs. From sunset to sunset a moon rises in all its glory as
There are millions of voices that are silenced From trafficking, slavery, and exploitation. Not just overseas, in third world countries, But right here in our very own nation. There are millions of tears that spill to the earth Of those
Bold as bold and shimmering gold as the sunlight fights through humidity, stacking the layers of weather then dying black as holes, until you question whether they’re alive or just the blemishes of mis-laundering. A small constellation of flies rest
Maligned, the space between us lets go the mammary a flame scoops up the void, we speak no names, I carry you in my skinned arms to the weeds for seminal mutability; shipwrecked, i fear of depth turbulence, I will
Well and there is a LOST SEA Somewhere running through The crystal caverns down and Around the foot hills of the Appalachian Mountains… I remember some kind of strange Indian folklore from many lifetimes Lived before, you look into my
The day I’ve looked to for years is now my dreaded bitter end. Melancholy incarnate, I feel nothing, much to my chagrin. My mind a wall, nostalgia the flood. Bursting through upon the hour. Bittersweet memories of you. The wall
No one saw in those hands the stone But people propagate that he pelted apparently kept mum on my stumbling but water springing from fountain says cried stone stone will never clash with the irony emotions of love For clashed
Was busy carving out the white clouds like stanzas, unflawed. Now I begin to fall apart. No meaning was left in a drink. You could see only your image drowning in a scented charity. At last I am watching myself.
I have heard melodies, I have heard songs, I have danced to the rhythms of heavenly delights, But each time I hear you, My heart skips a beat. I’ve heard the humming of the birds, and the chirping sparrows, I’ve
My Contingency Measure in case of…Armageddon Aisle putt ta ma head but tween these skinny legs and kiss thine braying ass good-bye asper ma person, thine gluteus maximus a boot the size of a hand held palm pilot cell phone,
This is the Horse Of A Different Color you’ve always heard tell about…well and this season it’s a celebration of the heart…ceremony of the horseman as the gypsies danced you kissed me and I lost all reason and as they
O life, O beautiful lie; Blinding light, release me from your tight embrace, For even the light deceives us, leads us of its own vices Under the guise of splendour and the veil of grace. I have broken down, and
Clear diamonds would regale, by being rare, In glints, beguiling, by the wearer’s hand; Hell conjures in many an envious stare, If but this gem been plenteous as sand; And yet raw quartz, may lay uncut for years, Which also
Flighty and Frivolous, Scintillating with wit, Yearning to Stand apart, My Paper Heart. Shimmering and gleaming, Red with Love, Longing to belong, My Paper Heart. Finds an attachment, Blissfully soars Heights, Preening on that chart, My paper Heart. A slight
The heavy metal series of poetry demonstrates an inner ability to speak words of kindness; Toward the resolve of the 1980’s heavy metal scene; To demonstrate a reasonable high calibur of interest; To the average novice of intellect, It’s plausible
Honeymoon with history was over. A two headed snake was sitting on a coin of leather in grass. Blue tongued jewel was going to serve the enormity of destination. Disquietingly, decomposed relics were coming out of the rubble. Coil of
Of splendid thrones of gold or treasures manifold Of jewelled caskets or lavish banquets Of Emirs and rajahs Of Sultan and Shahs Of kings and queens Of rulers and emperors Of sparkling crowns or flowing gowns Of their subservient stewards
I am left dangling between Conformity and Freedom So… What do I choose from? The Damocles sword or the Carrot? Cognition or Intuition? Accordance or Independence? What do I chose from? Existence or Living? Submission or Expression? Precision or Exaggeration?
She is a truly beauteous being With a sweet countenance and noble spirit Calm and composed and ever so genial Doling out her love to all so freely . When she is around you feel so safe Comforted , fearless
I was all alone this while in search of a real friend As a routine,heart wanders back in time(s) Awakens the memories in my mind; Back in the days..that cheering, screaming and yelling I never remember that day, when we
Each and every person desire to have a peaceful life But if life goes smooth then something is not going right! People in life have some or the other fear That are their worst nightmares Let’s start with toddlers Who
I hate the self-immolation of orange sex. Weather was leaving blue strings on the skin. Redemption was incomplete by sharing the legs Lips will not knead the ears. Like wakng in darkness for a passage to grief. Black moon will
lower abdominal area gurgles and balloons gastrointestinal tract vis a vis flatulence croons in tandem and/or subsequent expulsion eliminates fecal waste witnessing sprinting to bathroom, this scribe (against time) and jet propulsion of sphincter muscles’ spasmodic desperately raced unpleasant symptom
High in the Cascade Mountain Range in a pristine alpine sanctuary; Early in the morning in wilderness tranquility,from the northern shoreline of a placid pond. Serene echoes of a loon’s lonesome yodel eloquently float out over the alpine flora and
There was that day when nothing happened a luminescent day when all we did was watch the river from above and try to figure out how pigeons live and think in cities “on the brink”? “oh, no, there’s plenty in
Introduction: It comes in a small cylinder of white rolled cover, a-four-inch-processed-tobacco- leaves, which becomes very active from slow and low combustion sustained by heat. Call it cigarette- maybe cigar-spit tobacco, perhaps, hookahs, menthol, bidis, clove or kreteks, probably, shisha