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Steve Page May 2021
They need a firm love
Not a weak love
Not a shy love
Not 'sorry, love'
But a firm, dependable,
over and above, sacrificial love
That'll never deprive them of
what they need the most of
- a untiring labour of love
from someone who gets up
and turns up to daily put up
with an occasional child-like
shove.
To all teachers - you're brilliant
Jaxey Feb 2020
you shove my face
into a shallow abyss
and tell me to find
the deeper meaning
tree Jul 2019
when i’m with him, it’s always summer
careless adventures , absorbing adrenaline from his warmth
our energy pulses as we race through time
the sun refuses to give way to the pearlescent moon
but it eventually takes over to a night ;
another summer night i’m with my love ; but something is different
a cold wind sets in and i feel myself drawn to the lake
it has always been summer with him, but it’s suddenly winter and
a shove sets me tumbling into the ice
which breaks and i fall through -- but the only face i see is his
grinning and waving with the hand
that pushed me
the agony rips apart your soul
Abby M Dec 2018
A gentle voice to cut through nascent wails
A tender hug to quiet and to love
A guiding hand to give a needed shove
Tanay Sep 2018
As the moon shines
And the stars decorate the sky,
A lonely owl hymns
While the bats fly.
Lightning bugs scatter around
Like will-o'-the-wisps at night,
Without any sound
Oh, what a delight!
The neighbour's hound is on guard
She will not allow anyone to pass,
No one is allowed in her yard
At this hour, only a fool will walk on her grass.
Her howl pierces the air
Bringing an end to the silence,
She announces she won't share
She will not tolerate any form of violence.
Across the street, few floors above
Two players are taking their turns,
In the famous game of push and shove
While a tiny candle burns.













Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
As usual, I will not explain this poem. I think it is evident by now that I won't explain any of my poems to you. I want you to perceive it the way you want to. Happy reading!
Àŧùl May 2017
It behaved as the young dove,
I started chasing elusive love,
It shielded its valuable trove,
I found it hidden in the cove,
It smelt so fresh like the clove,
I gave it a much needed shove,
It fumbled right into my glove.
My HP Poem #1534
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Dec 2016
Scared before she could be my only wife,
Flew away on my tender touch a dove.

Abandoning the sinking relation-ship,
Caring not about the poetical trove.

She let me drown in the gifted grief,
Never cared to give me a shove.

To my eyes, it was just another blip,
Her hand was never in my glove.

The calm sound of happiness fife,
Than ego, she wants it not above.

It is strange how she lost grip,
Always like a princess dove.

Melted in heat of real life,
Such was her waxy love.
Rhyme scheme:
A
B

C
B

A
B

C
B

A
B

C
B

A
B

Rhyming is not a job for the dumb.
They hate rhyming poems.
Such fake inferior poets please excuse me.

HP Poem #1293
©Atul Kaushal
Little Azaleah Jun 2015
Why do you keep shoving away those who actually care?

{ E.I }
Daylight 4U2C May 2014
"Grow up tall,
little kid,"
said grandpa Joe.
And so I did.

The watermelon grow tall too.
The sunflowers look to the sky,
keeping their chins up,
raised real high.

So maybe it's silly,
watching grass grow,
but if you never try,
how could you ever know?

So maybe it's crazy,
chanting for the rain,
but if it never comes,
how could I grow the grain?

I'd prefer to stare at clouds,
than sleep forever like a rock,
skidding by life.
Why, that would just ****!

So, if you ask me to leave this here place,
you better shove it,
before you wake up
in an unknown space,
******* with lace,
with a disfigured face,
completely full of mace,
and a strange case
of something poisonous.

— The End —