Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Maria Etre Mar 14
I slithered my hand
across your chest
and your heart
wrote its story
on my palm
one your
voice
fails
to
n
a
r
r
a
t
e
breeze ripples palm groves,
a gleam in coconut fronds;
past peeps through the mist!
Seanathon Feb 22
Have you met the creases in my hands
Shocked you must be to know
That I've known them all along
Like the palm
an art
stand in
Miami deco
by January
dry she'd
be very
warm with
canary yellow
sneakers ran
the heart
of the
sun yet
poolside in
orange jubilee
that orkÿ
would retire
at noon
a girl in the middle
IncholPoem Jan 11
Sometimes    your
  
time  may  be  bad
for dinner's  Christmas
  pizza.


   Sometimes   flying    birds
may  come  down
to  meet  you after
your  failure n  exam.

Sometimes   rushing  bullocks
may  return from
cultivating  land  to
fight   with   ox  for  ***.



Sometimes   tops may  not
move  on   palm
die   due  to rise
cost  of  palm oil.
RL Glassman Oct 2018
Ever I have longed to take
your hand upon my palm
for all the nights I've lied awake
regretting what I had not done

in morning's rise I had believed
in cleansing of my thoughts
but removal I had not achieved
and was left with not a loss

now as ever, I long to take
under moments rash or calm
in days asleep or days awake
your hand upon my palm
love poem? how unusual. a lil one that i quite like, not sure why though -- as it is quite simple and quite trite. Oh well. I like what i like.
K Balachandran Sep 2018
Long necks held high,
Ostriches in a huddle;
Far palmyrah palms!
Neeloo Neelpari Sep 2018
Twenty four hours
stretching to a century
Engulfing the four walls
Of the lonely abode
haunting the soul
Of the grief stricken me

An enstranged tear
restless to roll down,
My gloomy, rosy cheek
Steps down from their abode
Leaving behind a trail of
Tell-tale blackest kohl

Memoires of you,
Haunting, transending..
And Oh! this taunting moon
Hiding behind the moving clouds
Peeping out, mocking at
My vunerable, lonely state

Brushing back my wet locks
I softly murmur your name
Against my powerless slender palm
When will you help me out
from this pitiable state
O my Eloquer....!!

© Neeloo 'NeelPari'
Kora Sani Aug 2018
i want
to feel death
hold it in my palm
taste the bitterness
then
let it go
find
what it means
to live
Next page