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
O flamingo, your pink is fading. Pick up the spirulina, it was caste-based. It hits there, where it hurts more. You were chasing, standing on one leg salt was dwindling in the lake. The stink unlike you is going to
It has been a long drive of fifty years and odd stumbled,edged,raced,soared,jumped all odds and silly games yet all meaningful. a stint at art, a trial at music, a full fledged love and a hard earned indifference, a gritty fight
Well I made mistakes. I said some things. Honey, I was wrong. I shouldn’t drink. I didn’t think, is what you could have said or done. But instead you walk away, said “you can’t stay,” and now you’re gone. And
In the tropical section of the Earth. There stays a period, Brimful of sufferings and pain. That tends to seek, Any and all drop of blood . Then the time has chosen a turn, And brought in a moderate silence,
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
Why am I like this? Why am I like that? Why am I…me…? Or possibly, My alienated mind; Exceptionally perceives, Sees the same World, Like you but; From a different eye. My being feels so outcast, Like the most complex
How wonderfully great it is to be human, This phenomenal thinking godlike specie, With the potential to explore the universe Yet with intentions of being mostly sleazy. Living in a garden of land, water, and sky, A living vessel so
Words in didos float like floes – In a Pontos of egos endorsing remorse; To pinkoes playing with awes and throes- Curses of chaos, fouls, and woes! Souls hiding behind words transpose- Sallowed ones hiding behind flaws! Some say their
(A collaboration with Gene) In dark melancholy’s mire a heart’s forlorn canoe paddles through the dense grief floating on the surface clutching like vines, sticks like Val Des ooze, pulling me under. Listening to the ghostly music coming from the
In the psychiatric hospital, angels have fever blisters because of too much powdered milk, swollen still hot from soft plastic cups as pink as their fingernails lacking calcium, Their wings hidden under dressing gowns made of felt, they grow beyond
When you ripped my mind and watched the fragments fly up around all over, I wonder how the frozen weightlessness of my memories of our past made you feel. Smiling, I let you go, while you still tried to melt
It’s a strange relation that we share, Strangest of them, but we dare To look at each other in the eyes And tell our hearts all those lies. But we have no promises to keep, No selfish meanings to reap.
Souls leave no shadows And no more shades either For, they remain in those Moth eaten sepias as relics of Those we have loved once And killed many times over Souls leave holes only Wholesome holes; say some in mock
Running, sown with tears of betrayal, a young woman fell helplessly across the tree which lay in the pathway she slowly pushed herself to sit up and to use her sleeve to dry her tears. why did I ever choose
Love letters from L.A. so sweet Every line makes my heart skip A beat, I know someday we will Be together because I believe The heart can bridge any distance No matter the miles that separate Us today, no and
I know,I just know… ..If I abuse I will be gone gone gone gone. More than a junkie, you can’t see it. I crave worse than narcotics. (I would trade this for being an alcoholic) Tragic? yeah it is tragic.
Page 1. the celebrated sailing frog from Montgomery County went a court’n, or so the tale iz toad to a grand ole mansion built around 1910, and e’en ‘pon being razed ~2012 ah no dummy sea worthiness still plainly showed,
By the sea side On the beach With feet immersed in sand And washed now and then by the waves I stood watching the varying hues In the western sky. Amidst all the squeals of laughter, fun and chaos, there