Shriveled poems bring the best collection of short and long shriveled poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great shriveled rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these shriveled poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on shriveled are here for you.
Mano a mano taut our mutually limp and gnarled fingers bony hooks draped with blotched flesh – varicose veined, decubitus descent, and aged arthritic anatomy like a scorched oxbow lake cruelly desiccating topography! * * * * * * *
I saw a child Playing in the mud Red hair Glistening in the sun Twinkling eyes, Reverberating the sea. Hands clutched the dark soil And out came a dimpled smile, Enthralling me. As I looked on She metamorphosed into an
Higher than clouds, A voice beckons loud, Shouting incoherent statements, Clouding its own sentiments. Down here vibrations resonate, In well traveled ears they commemorate, Aggressive tones without grace, Screaming on shriveled yesterdays. Voices screech after enough, When deafly righteous is
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
Mirror was shattered By a single crevice. Those dusky eyes are places Where truth lies. Silent as night was my fate But then those footfalls Captured me to enervate. Wind turned the pages Of a story forsaken. Words had some
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,
The blank page grinned at my emptiness.. Tears fell creating bluish islands… As my hand moved, the page bled hiding white spots; the remains of my love… Each droplet fading away to gloom; devoid of emotions.. I tried moving my
Waiting under the opaque moon a primeval instinct takes over you and you start arriving. A black bone renders the ash on your forehead and you complete the circle – reaching childhood; you start climbing the ladder, for instantaneous release.
Glowing sea tries to touch the sky, again and again, As I appeal for your love even in inevitable constrain. Endless sea merges with sky far away from the earth, Just like our souls amalgamate with eternal love and mirth.
You left behind touchstones when I was inventing another zero. Black and white, sobering transparency was reclaiming the mandate of dust. Barefoot lambs were clamouring for ethics in forbidden land. The sun shrinks the clouds to distribute equally, the landscape
Her arm was left out the window all night clamped at the pit which throbbed her heart hammering to do its job straining for the tiny capillaries going blue about the nail beds her arm flapped on the growing wind
Identification of the Cutest Creation Ever! ‘He’ or ‘It’- What should I call? A God’s creation that came into existence, Thirteen years ago. A creation of flesh and bone, Purely naïve and totally ignorant About the cruelties and cleverness Of
Give me a moment let me discard your misery. I’m all conviction now so don’t you worry, I’ve attained salvation in the midst of luxury, My voice is loud but my words are empty, Just follow me and cleanse your
“At least eighty dead,” is all you’ve said…. As that charred colossus, Grenfell, towers overhead. The hopes and fears of those you loved, Dead. Those missing, without mention, who died, without dying, who cried, without crying. The faceless, euphemised headlines
But to fully know love you must love yourself. And that is one of the hardest loves to know. To love ourselves is to find ourselves worthy, worthy of being a part. Worthy of being connected. To love is fully
This heart’s a dog Beats for everyone who is false Always broken Remains stolen Sometimes sweeter when stolen It might grow holes Blood might start to pour It might not be ever whole Might never get out of the fog
On the intertwining paths of life When you come across someone of old. When you stop for a moment And time flies by Memories well up in your moist eyes; Golden days of happiness, that day of radiant sunshine That
Broken from the inside out Pieces of my heart run through my veins Hurt and disappointment have broken my heart. I try to fit the pieces back together, as they no longer fit. I hide the hurt with a fake
Regardless of contentions being branded reprobate Carried on just believing a share of my dished fate Others with own schema never once looked behind Kept waiting in expectancy but bliss was hard to find Harsh while in beginning then slowly
Anticipation hung in the air, The crowd chanting his name, Ding ding….. Fists flying, punches pounding, Sweat dripping, feet dancing. Nervous sensations rising, Knotting tighter with an adrenaline cocktail, Ding ding…. Tension grows like lightening strikes, Heads duck,arms jabbing with
Put off the lantern. I am waiting for the moon’s primal face. The lesser flamingoes were going to shed the pink color. Nude as a python, the kiss of pomegranates, kills by asphyxiation. I suffer in the hands of protests.
In the eyes of a child, I saw that it was heartbreaking That adults can compete For simple assumptions While it is simple to tell Beautiful and funny nonsense. I saw that he dreamed of recklessness And that he was
It was not mandatory. The penalty of hope. From a killing machine propane and fertilizer. It was a god’s day. Don’t want to contend against porous death. Words, I will not betray. —————————————— It was not mandatory. The penalty of
Sometimes late at night simply i can’t sleep Thinking about my innocence is no longer to mine to keep Somwhat like the worst nightmare one can’t imagine Dreary days are steadily approaching, bad memories trailing behind Its not only me,
Stranger, why should I not smile at you? Why should we be entrapped under false separations of race, color, caste, creed or any duality? Are not we beings cast in the image of God? Is not all – one! We
Each caress of sea breeze in my eyes brings gentle rhythm of foam rippling up the beach. Grasshopper-green seaweeds, crystal-white pebbles shine brightly near my toe-nails. They mirror dreamy eyes, welcoming the micro-sparkles in each foamy row of bubbles. But
Winging my way through the air; high in the Cascade Mountain Range. With a serene wilderness lake just below me. Reflecting an exquisite brilliant sunrise of various shades of yellows, oranges, and golden hues. Reflected upon the glassy placid surface.
This is my moment of… Reminiscence, reckoning, recognition Of things I had wished for Hoped for, dreamed of… They unfold themselves one by one Like blooming buds under the sun This is my moment of… Recall, recognizance, realization Of things