Slippery poems bring the best collection of short and long slippery poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great slippery rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these slippery poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on slippery are here for you.
Just like mantises, hurrying to finish his last embrace, so to be taken by the husks of his beloved; Like a butterfly, flying to the sun, but hunted by a pale lamb hanging on the dust of the road; Like
One beautiful Sunday afternoon, down by the valley where the waters cascading down the rocks upon the stony bed I sat, lost in reverie on my life continuous struggles when His shadows appeared, silhouetted against the fading sun upon the
Two little twittering twitters Two little twittering twitters hop in and hop out never stopping for a moment rest they know not, play they must chomping away on munches differ they though in tastes share they without fail funny games,
The whistle blows to sound the charge and over the top they bustle and barge, covered from head to toe in mud and soon tainted with flesh and blood. Up the ladder with slippery rungs, a scream of rage from
To be in love. Her heart was a hill that I climbed with slippery soles. To be still in the moments of encouragement. I’d slide down unable to catch my footing. I acknowledge that I wasn’t dressed for the occasion.
Dragging the floor, Like a mangled doll. Facing a decrepit wall, Rip it off like paper. The blackness of void, Like a pool of ice water. Out a silver hand outstretches, Rippling the wall. You’re pulled inside, soaked by the
Meaninglessly traversing into the havoc of vanity With a fake logic justified, Leaving the players into the deathly chasm. A Blue bottle game denying the soul of life! Two and two they say ten, And it is their game playing
Always he was picking up and counting the pins to distill the essence of rainbows and find the symmetries of elementary laws and eating leftover words from the table. The terrorists had wired his house and he was not aware
Words have power to light fires of passion in the soul, making unsaid words waltz in unison of the hearts. Words are breath of life, a narrow line between, the real and declared, within one’s awareness of subtle meanings. Words
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
Can we borrow the eyes of winter and spring to detect — behind the slippery, crystal-glassy, prayer-like quiet and focus of a sentinel, a snowman half-disfigured when scrutinized by early February winds — sparkles from an unseen, unbeatable citadel? Perhaps
Daily I see a different me, each morning I notice- an iota of sheen missing, a part of me has withered, chipping regularly from somewhere or the other, a delta difference between me and the me from yesterday, Am I
I reminisce Easter at our home was as important as Christmas. Mom surrounded our small apartment with the song, “Here Comes Peter Cottontail” I waited on the Easter Bunny as much as I did Santa but I would wake up
In the present I look out the night window coffee steaming through the smoke A reflection of myself looking into my eyes A child, never a child, a lingering old soul with no true idea of what a soul is,
Count it my pleasure to behold your eyes, As my future therein, I used to see, None as wondrous did nature yet devise, That was endeared by half as much, to me; The special twinkle that there so I find,
Perceptibly all’s normal sans any grave concern Yet something’s amiss at total loss to discern Prospects and delivery in unanimity converged Still truest of the bliss never clearly emerged Amity, bonds & loyalty all but there so to say But
My name has been written in a piece of letter, waiting for me to come for a warm conversation. I was lost… I was swimming into the imagination of the melancholy. Leaves were embraced in the street. It was autumn.
A thousand dreams I have experienced and all were better than my reality Forty years I have lived on this planet and all I believe in is eternity Not for the body of course but for the soul that searches
Mellow wintry wind starts to blow. From the corner of the sky there is a pinkish glow. A fluttering and dancing rose smiles at the sky. In such ways Lord Jesus opens His eyes. Pink rays of happiness wrap old
I can never betray you for sure, Neither can leave you this way, For you are the one who taught me everything And nothing what I’m today. Everyone believes praying is a must, But I say that’s just a trust.
A walk on an empty road , Inhabited yet filled, A sound of husband wife quarrel, College students laugh , Romance of young couple in love, Stray dogs’ prey quest , A bird’s chirp from the nest, Playground commotion of
On a chill dewy morning When thin fragments of mist Kidnapped the sun….and Its rays struggled to peep into this world …they saw… Our eyes playing hide and seek… By the river side … You peeped into my heart… And
Dawn did arrive and brought soft light across a sand-filled shore, but no one knew the sadness that the widow there did bore. The young new widow with bare feet and loneliness at heart, walked slowly down the sandy beach
Timeless, the eyes and fractured wisdom, the two of us, extremely prudent, suffering the dislocation of vigilance against wrinkled sin, I am on my own today disconnected to the unearthly rehearsal of breaking the cycle of carbon assimilation in the
They say Dreams are not Real… And, that it’s an illusion we live in! Would it have been possible, to think of our Independence, Of India being free, had not… the HEROES of our HISTORY dreamed of freeing it, from
How foolish. How sad. How awful. When can they stop acting they don’t know? When can they stop pretending that they are not hurting others? They can kill me physically. Or hurt me emotionally. But, I am not the one
The nowhere road the nowhere road going for a very long walk down the nowhere road. What do I see, what do I see? Going for a very long walk down the nowhere road. Wild wild flowers, wild wild flowers,