Putrid poems bring the best collection of short and long putrid poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great putrid rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these putrid poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on putrid are here for you.
When just a little boy inured to bodily harm I stuck a bean inside my button nose which caused parental fright and alarm yielded putrid odor like weeks old black pearl jam stuck between toes Foul fumes a nauseating offal
I stare at the bride demure and dainty in her virginal veil. Lift my eyes a little to see her shed her modesty. Lusciously coquettish , an exotic eroticism as she sways to the rhythm of a wild vernal beat.
One Life, one Fate, one Love… That one-time, ravishing, sudden love, peeling the layers of years lived in apathy, finally reaching your soul; Times, when you were anonymous to yourself, walking hollow and weary in penumbra of your life; And
(Tribute to the Banished Silver Surfer – he is herald again) Please tell Galactus, I can’t do his will And shine like sap that drips from putrid pine, Stare into space from some ingested pill Or from a dose of
As much try shaking off odd feeling can’t avoid On face seems normalcy deep within I’m paranoid All evident brave fronts and donned blasé guise Reflect chinks in armor of societal compromise Frayed old compulsions often daunt and afflict Daubed
When black ink spills across the sky The time when ravens roam the heavens When the mythical beast gobbles up the sun Robbing me of the light I need to survive It becomes too dark for my preference. Pitch-black, that
Pots of gold. Rainbows. Lala lands and Elves. Twinkling stars and lightening strikes. Bridges that end in the middle of the river and smiling babies are In my dreams. No more hurts and no more pain. No more strikes from
The Fly lurks around putrid matter and delights in savouring human waste. The distasteful things we love to hate satisfy his insatiable taste for foul smelling things that are better cast in the bin from our very sight. He does
When I look at the 2 pair of eyes, I wonder about the perception. What are the adjectives used, What are the defining values? Given the negative light, Of a self-image, And the ka-ching, Ominously amiss, I wonder, if the
I dread the weight machine That horrible, putrid little thing It tells me lies that shatter me Clasping my throat that I can’t breathe Every time I step onto its platform The spring beneath contorts in pain It bends its
Dark ink flows through trembling hands, telling of doom in distant lands with hate as fuel and tyranny it’s goal, the ink seeks to blacken the brightest soul. The sands of time blow soft through the dunes, sullied and tarnished
What are we doing? Where are we going from here? What are we? My stormy weathered friend I hear you scream. I see your dreams untold. I love you. My stormy weather friend. When you’re wounded who will heal you?
If not for that pitcher of ugly beer, We’d never have been in love. You for once would never have Made sense of my drunken chatter. Nor I found your stubble anything to Die for, considering how they prick My
A Majestic stretch of marble lambasted the sky above, While the river Narmada revered and whirled flow below A sight so lovely beholding overpowers mind and soul For this mighty sandstone wonder many ages old Where Nature’s artisan carved lofty
I rouse from the lap of ocean.. rose up down now and than… flew on on the wings of clouds.. walk play and commit many fouls… Collide with mighty mountains.. feeling cavalier..without any pain… a sudden my tears rushing down
This poem hates you. This poem thinks you’re dirt. What does it look like down there? What does the ground taste like? This poem is tough. This poem is hard. This poem is hate. How does that make you feel?
Once I was in the world as a man But my body was not found anywhere more than Uncertainty around the moving earth happened Then Sudden accident Damaged my brain how and where No one could be said I thought
To my friend She glows with a glimmering giggle that lingers in my mind that surpasses even fragrance of fair Jasmine her benign grin, a mark of charity wins the souls of all in unanimity. Her abode is a mansion
sea grew wild, rain couldn’t cease rain fell drops, from tears of souls… the sailboat floats, on angry seas. wind blew hard; their distant howls like predators out, like ancient owls. Tide close in; a thunderous shout makes sun retreat,
Soul like the angel, Eyes like the devil, A twizted brain burned like metal. She turns her head from left to right, She knows she has the beauty of night They shine like stars They tell a tale, They hide
The once clean and pure waters of the ocean, Pure, What does that even mean? Where whales, dolphins, fish swam freely, With the course of nature and life. No interference by humans. The ocean is as beautiful as wild animals
Just say no to corrupt politicians, lying and cheating with their secret missions. Hugging the baby in the camera’s eye then stealing its lolly and watching it cry. Just say no to the corrupt EU, actually achieving what Hitler failed
A rock within a shell encased, lifeless and stilled. Heavier than most, despite the wear and attrition. Stone, cold and caged within. Deliberately chilled. Once, in another’s hand, cast aside like spent ammunition. Collaterally damaged, withdrawn from further crusade. Surrendered,
Inspiration for true love, you always remain, With your ineffable look and idyllic thoughts, Your dulcet expressions are very iridescent, When two lovers are kissing in garden. Joyful love making in the dark deep forest, You will never jilt our
“Like a dangling swing from outa space the diamond bridge hang over the Bonny river spraying its golden rays of lights upon the dark rippling ocean waves that have become docile at this time, being in harmony with this incendiary
There’s a bench in the park where an old couple sit holding hands and laughing as the children play and flit about on the swings and slides with boundless joy, inciting memories of when they were girl and boy. The
Winners take time to relish their work, knowing that scaling the mountain is what makes the view from the top so exhilarating. Valpaarai by Fountain Head As I rise And see the MIRACULOUS BEAUTY, Of the the beaming sun, Come
What was that inside you which was not ready to accept the compound folly of a man? What worry do I carry tonight to my bed? An intentional leap into the very fire of mind? A virgin garden battles with
Golden sand, sun-drenched by day Moonlit by night Soft and warm, her cheeks against mine Barefoot we walk, hand in hand A Picasso, our footprints in the sand Disappear with each incoming tide A salty mist from the sea breeze
Hauled up the breast suture. You were following the milk route, epitomizing the fall. From the golden clouds. Wanting to swim in blue veins, you were drowned. The fire has spurted the blood. A carbon copy of exit strategy in
I’ll build an island. Away from the home where I was born. Away from the seas and oceans. Far to the galactic ridges of confer. Houses made up of lively lives. Where love is not lust But lust makes you
From the blank book can I lift some questions for the lofty hopes when I lost myself near the home? The fear was darting inside the white sores. Keys were lost for the answers and truth fell castrated. The magic