PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Love is queer? You
ask the moon in dark light. I don't
want to bleed before my eyes.

Life slows down and
the sun runs fast. The alliance
breaks down. Any other star.

The wailing earth has
no choice. Terrified. Why the human
beings are changing skin and tongue.

Transhumanism. Are
you ready to beat tomorrow, or not
to beat to alter the status of love?

An anguished blade
of grass stands in the hot sun to keep
the storm away. The rain will come.

You fill the eyes with
water to become avenger. Why
don't you want to live and marry death?

Today the poem is of
airborne symphony. The love comes
in an old home, when you open your eyes.

Where has spring gone?
I was asking about all the rose gardens.
You wanted to appropriate my words.

You want to float a ship
without water. How it is possible that
all the songs should be buried in blood.

Only one life is
sufficient to do nothing. The
path between two hearts never ends.

I want to understand
me, who was clever in the power
to govern the invincible god.

You want to pray
in the ruins of riches. Ultimately
it is the poverty which builds the temples.

Would you meet my
colorless profile? My spirit swims
with a snake in water.

No one dies. This was an
unborn soul to find a partner.
There was no immigrant pain.

Can you read a no poem of
wordless love? I will confess to
a fallen angel in ash.

When the moon blisters
in resilient mode, between land
and water, you enter the smoke.

Whereas the sun stands
still, the earth has to pay a debt. The
border burns in the war of candle and storm.

The secret science of.
love gives a moral touch. It should
not be a murder and the fall.

Is it not queer
repudating to invade the riveting
image of whirlpool of spilled milk?

No complaints. I don't
keep a sharp razor. My poems
always burn the residual integrity.

Charity for every one.
Who distributes the venom? Cobra
doesn't want to kill like god.

I have my own doubts.
Emulating the heart of broken doors.
All poems look black.

The moon will smile
I collect all the fireflies to play with me.
But the light won't move.

Can you mend the fractured
roads? I will invoke a human torch.
to ignite all the pagodas.

Sleepless you pine for the
afterlife before dying for a cause,
the generosity of our times.

A beauty was collecting
pine needles to stitch a heart, broken
by way wards of rituals.

Don't belittle the love.
About the author I don't know, when
he was born with liquified poems.