Sherman Alexie poems bring the best collection of short and long sherman alexie poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great sherman alexie rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these sherman alexie poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on sherman alexie are here for you.
I’m scrunched in partially obscured view seating, hands at my temples, elbows pressed to the balcony rail. Look up, Sherman Alexie! I squint through borrowed glasses, willing your signature pen to drop, your writer’s eyes to find me. I’m cheap.
At a liquid time flowing between two visions, Before we imprisoned our breaths inside cages of a calendar, Before bird feathers fell down into inkwells, Before we covered our dead with an elegy and a confusion written on papyrus leaves
You’ll leave. And I’ll try to ease the sudden stark emptiness with Hobbies, art, intellectual exercises, movies, new clothes, Flings, makeovers, muffins, brownies, ice cream, chocolate. And I’ll fail. Miserably. Just like Last time.
I wonder, sometimes, why it is a fact, A gifted, handsome man should be alone. My iambic pentameter’s intact, And yet I tend to lyric on my own. Alliteration alienates romance. The ladies scorn my struggle with cliché They scoff,
You are like red sea in a rough mood Excellence of your beauty makes you more rude Your innocence and youth make you more crude Fire of love makes your beauty more nude Your curly hair makes my heart up
Man is such a prisoner even when left alone to converse with his mind and heart. He claims to aspire for cordiality only to live up his distinctive contradictions. He goes through daily crusades with foreigners from himself who have
Thinking, contemplating my current situation. Scared. The lights of the city are turning down. From this view I can see everything. I’m watching her come down for the night. Helping me to not come down alone. Slowly, dying together. From
Someone stood a mannequin on a rural highway away from the nearest town, just past a bridge in a gap in the safety lights. It did not wait, just remained an immobile figure, dressed up in black clothing, until a
That essence Those hands, that body that caresses who breastfeeds us that gives us life starting an eternal struggle who always leaves his teachings Their loves his consolations That essence that multiplies in the sister, in the aunt, in the
You thought, I came back As I didn’t have other doors open for me You must have been day dreaming I came back to see if my absence Made you poised or spoiled! Looking back where we left things incomplete
Sound Many sounds Living sounds A world is built with sounds Who is speaking? There are emotions Is madness an emotion? The question A common noise Out of the endless loop of noise a sound emerges Can you hear it?
Freedom, you are the autumn leaf drifting to the call of the season. Freedom, you are the tune forming in a dreamers mind. Freedom, you are the paint on a wet canvas seeking it’s own path to redemption. Freedom you
A sage plant scrambles for the mob, walking out of bed and begs for a death. The adolescence had become graphic. Do you agree with the splurge of moonlight under the street light? The unborn stink was hovering after the
Velvet wilted rose petals Fallen rain pelts against a window pane Music soothes the soul I am whole Alone twice amongst a desolate world Cold starving hunger Lingering amidst a velvet heart Raisin wine symphony Fill my being Making love
Oh, you. You with your eyes. A golden brown. A deep forest green. They’re an abyss that I become lost in…repeatedly. You’re my panacea. A serendipity that is beyond lovely. Your presence sends a ripple effect of warmth throughout me.
What is it that is missing? What is it that is changing? What is and is not worth saying? What prices are worth paying? Who will be here tomorrow? Who won’t be here tomorrow? Who out there is faking pity
My name is Richa… Does it really matter?! It could’ve been Mala …Seema…Sita..Nirbhaya or even Chabili.. In the end I would’ve been married to a much older man.. or abandoned after impregnating in a forest.. I wash utensils …clean floors..
It rained all night. Heaving up the dawn immaculately, at my window the lake crashed on white sands. A lone tree smelt of mist and grief. A fury had submerged a road leading to a forgotten childhood. Knives and pins
She drags her tired heels across the tainted floor Her poise held taut though her back is sore She holds on her face a cold marble stare A hard life engraved upon cheeks once so fair Her movements; once grace
when your flesh, leave your bones. when your eyelids, become heavy to be worn. when your skin, don’t shine like a fin. when your hands, tremble holding cans. when your mouth, stops uttering words. when your shin, cant help any
Autumn is one of the four seasons of all Here, the leaves of the trees do fall. Night spreads it’s darkness prematurely And cold ascends with it cavalierly. Nothing’s different in the autumn of life Where the wrinkled cheeks and
A silence speaks up at ungreen age for an unknown, finding dark matter in hiddenness of sleazy light. A dove in the valley of tulips stops a flight for a wayfarer. What was that persisists, in envioronment and bunkers? Queen
Irreverent arsenic of lake bottom was seeping in me I was riding on waves, moon-stuck. The nude shot of anemone, blindfolded after the criminal assault. Why they were throwing the lewed comments? A raw cave of white pain, drags the
Deep down thighs, unhoisted, what was there, harvesting the sperms? At dusk an inflorescence breaks into myriads of fireworks, wrecked apologia, interned unlikeness, insanity, kissing the goldenrod to start the flow of bare grief. I deserve no nobility, my moonscape
You were my second chance or so I thought I was fragile and scarred when we crossed paths Emerging from a Summer of anguish and regret you caught me off guard Love was not on my list of healing remedies
There’s something about the feeling i get, when i’m lying on my shower floor slumped down, looking at the water travelling down my body as if the water will wash away my identity, my sins and insecurities that it is