Violent Poems

Some say it all started with a violent explosion, let there be light, a Big Bang. White hot plasma swirling around expanding in an amazing bound. After a while things cooled, came together, began to slow down. Hydrogen and helium

I won’t apologize I am mesmerized by your violent beauty I am unable to understand the depths of you I cannot see to the bottom Winds create waves that crest and crash Damaging all in the way Salty spray stings

You’ve kept my heart’s dynamite aflame You know I can never be the same since your charming kiss did my heart tame. What words can describe your beauty’s fame? No smile can contend with yours’ my dame. It sends sorrow

Crush of holy hands on blue skin of a flame was the wet revenge of a withering rose. That defiant streak bursts with knowledge of a sin. White and black, this was me and my unwrapped flesh. Dirty glory of

10 ways to write a poem! No sentence in the glory of English language has hit me as hard as this one did. I started writing poetry when I was in class 7th. I still remember the day when this

The vagabond was once again on the window, Begging love and asking to open the gate, And the fairy inside the house reluctant, Said helpless she was being slave of the fate, First you peep in the four windows, Starting

The world’s a bit colder, The nights are silent The storms that are brewing They seem just like me, Violent. I killed another soul, It bled to death at my feet. I didn’t do much but, my sword, I did

Sitting besides the window , I watched the gloomy cumulus clouds Above the rolling hills. Suddenly, a gush of wind entered Through the open widow. The sun which tried to make its appearance Through the dark and thick clouds, Hid

When the milky-way smiles on the sky, And the crazy night birds glide and fly, The white night flowers when sing and dance, The corner in roses is a cradle of romance, Stars on sky play hide and seek, The

“They told me they were leaving”, He said, with trembling hands. “I believed them but I shouldn’t have, They still taunt me every day.” Stories like these, numerous I’ve heard- Of shadows long and shadows dark. These voices, shrieks of

Did wise men from the Buddhist east Worship the child Jesus as messiah? If so, may not fungible god or fungi yeast Raise dough over the same fire? Was it reincarnated lama or messiah The Magi come thus far to

FITS AND STARTS For a cold winter’s day When you’re, maybe, all sad and forlorn, Here’s a tale, Which, to many, may not be known. It may not be a mystery, it may not evoke fear, But it shall make

In this world of possession, Where, criticism creates frustration. Sufferings and pain have easy flow, Negativity and jealousy are in full glow. Where emptiness is all around, Pessimism can easily be found. Intolerance growing day by day, Depression is like

What shall I say to those with pride who too live at the edge with their backs against the fact! Just because you are hurt it doesn’t mean you will become violent! Just because you are shut it doesn’t mean

Cows eat grain and grass, Goats, sheep, deer too Eat greens and grass. All creatures eat As per their nature! Alas! Only people are Who go against nature! Whoever violates nature Will have to suffer? Who follows her Will always

I lay here feeling a violent hue a ravaged red- a blackened blue mis-taken words- no intent by you triggered the dark! the dark came through it rose to the surface and said its due shattered my heart and destroyed

Tumbling over One after another The waves crash left and right Crossing each other Coming together, cancelling out Rippling white ridges of white violent foam And yet This is not where the real power lies The outward grey-green breakers fall

What is peace, is peace a myth, from observing the world peace does not exist, unless it’s a mind state, or a frame of mind, the aforementioned means the same as well as man kind, peace is harmony, that’s a

Freedom to be Loving and kind. Compassionate and empathise. To be strong yet gentle. To listen and understand To be fair and stand. Freedom from biases Age old medieval and rotten prejudices. Freedom to be different to be alive and

He’s a very famous actor who married an ordinary woman and while he spends his days honing his body for the kind of violent pornography they pay him to discharge, learning to compress his abdomen to crush walnuts spit out

I use you to write my sin, everything that makes my head spin. You know my deepest fears and know all my tears. You have felt my broken heart and tortured soul, like a horror movie doll. You have felt

A beautiful rose To those who enjoy the smell of its fragrance and admire its beauty A rose will always display its charming looks and delicious aroma which only a rose holds uniquely And to those looking to pluck it,

I wait for my turn as Milton stands and waits for his turn bright Oh! Being mourn for my turn rakes up my grief in the urn To charge my body with violent torrent of blood Causing turbulent in my

Tears of Man You have the right to remain silent. Do you make the choice or remain violent? Do you evolve and become more civilized? Or do you choose to stay belligerent? You choose to be healthy, like you are

When darkness dampens your devotion, The will is there but devoid of emotion; Remember to hold your head high And kiss every violent wind which passes by. That violent wind takes you to places unknown, Places of future palaces and

Fahrenheit mid twenties on dole skint Saturdays bordered in black and white diamond linoleum. Lost in days. I acridly observe the English countryside on a coffee table pamphlet. My minds unbridled in those munching country lanes. But sometimes it’s Lost,

Fahrenheit mid twenties on dole skint Saturdays bordered in black and white diamond linoleum. Lost in days. I acridly observe the English countryside on a coffee table pamphlet. My minds unbridled in those munching country lanes. But sometimes it’s Lost,

I am me. No one can manage that , it’s difficult . I can’t be you as well. You hurt me,I forgive you. There is no place for guilt and regrets in my soul. I am raw. I am mud.

Rain …… Sometimes dark and heavy, Sometimes light and lively, Lashing downpours and violent streaks of light, Pearls on the foliage and the sweet smell of wet earth, Ambrosia for a parched land, Opiate for the lonely soul, Rain …….Oh, how

Every homecoming is a nomad’s offerings for forgiveness, A silent prayer, An apology for neglecting the roots, that have borne him. Two lovely yet lonely souls, leaning on each other Still, on their own worlds, Slowly move around and do

Trees toss their canopies horses shaking their manes all the manmade arbor street signs, power lines each motion exaggerated in woeful orange glow we’re smashing pumpkins torching porches huffing spraypaint and praying for violent excitement cops chase blue flashers and

Love brings a sparkle of lust Or a tenderness of pure heart Tones of affection leaving you breathless for more…. Its voice caressing your soul We long to be loved and equally reciprocate. How can love break your heart It’s

Fiendish and gruesome phantasmagoric denizens Dwell deep inside subterranean vault perform an evil dance Haunt psychic landscape with imaginary (yet realistic) Gargoyle visitations that cast a macabre trance Nocturnal unconscious invaders cavort and gallivant Disturb quiescent sleep with devilish and

So I find myself once again in the shadow of the crescent moon Back to the marshlands in the throes of an ancient gossamer Forest…well I can still hear your voodoo beckoning the spirits And I too can feel the

Painful, we fight with verbal knives. As our women and men need no fight, Nor they should suffer any loss in that; But need to be paved in rough roads, From the husband’s office-rules, you say, The odds and orders,

Maybe, just maybe, love is not a forever thing you know? Maybe it is just an evening spent taking crowded trains to unknown stations figuring announcements in foreign languages and wandering walks through dilapidated bylanes full of squishy muck and

Her eyes widened, Not once did I stop to notice that this was the first time These words came from my mouth. Through action yes but never once did I stop to pay attention that I’ve never said it before.

I hope it will all change eventually Or Maybe it’s just me Maybe I see things differently Or maybe it’s the truth you’re scared to see We are living in a world so cold and lost You must freeze your

Her eyes narrate huge stories every time, I try to hear them, Measure the weight she drops on each word, Counting, the gulps after few. Her eye balls dance around, Like butterflies dancing in the ballroom, She hides violent storms

The curves of a dark alley hide the secret of long lost happiness. My mind meanders in the narrow paths and a gush of brackish water hits my face, chokes my thoughts. I hear the cries of memories drowned there

Underground spillover of sickness and the stench of death… men, women and children confined and condemned, condemned to suffer even after the hour glass has ran out of time, there is an un-natural coldness down the long and winding dark

So I find myself once again in the shadow of the crescent moon Back to the marshlands in the throes of an ancient gossamer Forest…well I can still hear your voodoo beckoning the sprits And I too can feel the

Nations and nationalities, you are not chocolate, you are the sweetest Jam cooked from bitter labour! You are the original egg, the supreme cause of war and peace! You are the homeland of the rising sun and moon. You are