PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

After a mortal blow,
the ulnar nerve believes, I don't
exist in your swaying poems.

The silence has a
music of unheard pain Contemporary.
blood has a different color.

Hide the meaning of
human. It deeply moves you. There was
no mood of declaring, god was truth.

Love comes on tiptoes.
You were eating one moon everyday.
The Rose garden was haunted.

Who was hungriest on
this starving earth ? The massive gorges
the stars. The weakest spits venom.

You don't want to taste
the blue salt of a lake. It was becoming
red in the dark setting sun.

You see me, once more
impacting the rhyme. I am writing
dipping my pen in blood.

Don't come from the
future. This moment breaks like the
egg and a snake comes out.

Oh sun you have to
still live in the womb of darkness.
Science, philosophy and religions have failed.

One day a romper will
become a pawn. Good to see
you resurrecting unforeseen.

Just lift my poem.
Your body of glass reflects
the pain. I was done.

We had fallen in love.
The portraits start playing in
the house of vipers.

At sunset, dancing duo
above or below the sword, you are
getting ready to sit on the pyre.

I am opening the door
of love, to cultivate empathy.
From where comes the god?

You break down when
you walk in sleep to find a true
friend who can talk to the dead.

I try hard to lie, but
cannot. Truth starts making blue spots
on limbs. I start stammering.

How long you will remain
pure. I want to erase my name from books.
The bell rings to go to hell

All night I want to read
unwritten sermons which will snuff -out
the candle I will flicker, will not.

Somewhere a part in
the good dies. You rise above the
mundane to cut the rope painlessly

The key to happiness
was lost. I searched for the tiger.
in water. Solar eclipse was near.

I feel your movement,
though not near me. I cannot see
your sound creeping on my body.

Can there be a happy
end? Touch my inner wound, before
you put your hand on my shoulder.

Fat burns when you
don't speak for earthen lamp's pain.
It is too dark to write in tears.

O pain how much you
want to forget the trauma of love.
The roses will not take bribes.

Verbatim. I will repeat
a note from the unknown. No one knows
the truth. Creativity faints in the cauldron.

Can you destroy the ism?
A lie becomes a transgender enduring
the swaying brain fog.

Like the butterflies a short
span to live. The moral failure
wins, You lied the predator will eat grass.