"rhyming" poems
Brothers till the end,
So close like two Friends.
We Might be a few years apart,
but brother you'll always be in my heart.
you've always Been My back up,
even during fights..yup.
saved me countless times,
so Ill be busting out my rhymes,
rhyming this rhyme for you,
because brother I love you too.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 5:26 PM UTC
*He’s no musician.
He doesn't make melodies through violin and guitar strings.
Yet he composed, haunting ballads in dramatic tempos,
Rhyming every lyric,
Harmonizing, making it dance in a musical euphony.
He’s no seamster.
Yet he cuts and he traces,
plain words and printed phrases;
Then he sews and he weaves it skilfully,
into a lovely concrete poetry.
He’s no painter.
He just has a palette of pigmented letters,
splashing colorful lines on his blank canvass.
A blast of contained evocative memories,
Streaking and shading mixtures of kaleidoscopic imagery.
He’s no storyteller.
Yet from him, I heard the most romantic tales-
One, of the moon and its lover sea.
Reciprocating shy glances, whispering I love you’s,
while kissing behind the sprawling mountains.
Though the dawn will come, they do not fear.
For after the majestic tribal sun leaves his stage,
There’ll the lovers be once again reunited.
He's no poet.
Yet he writes--
stanzas and verses.
And oh! it revives,
every strand of emotion,
every sense of intuition,
Inside me.
A lyrical perception,
Sheer perfection,
Arousing perpetual reactions,
From me.*
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
These are interesting times
Blessing cursing each moment
Smelling like the '80s
Rhyming with the '60s
Cringing like the '40s
Gasping at '17
It's The War of The Worlds II
Man versus man versus nature and self
A free-for-all melee, just name it
Where bacteria and viruses
and gas and atoms
Will be our doom in the end
But not before we've wreaked havoc
on all that we love.
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 9:41 AM UTC
1. Find a Poet Not a poser, not a "it's just a hobby" poet. Find one who mumbles lines as they scramble for a pen at breakfast; who shakes their head randomly when their thoughts aren't rhyming properly; who has notebooks stashed around the house that you must never touch.
2. Listen Savor the spoken words, for those are harder to express. Keep in mind that they can't be edited and re-written, and be forgiving when a mistake is made.
3. Read The body speaks as loudly as words on a page do. When their eyes are closed or focused on the ceiling and the fingers are tapping out syllables, recognize the unique process. Respect the need for quiet, because if you look closely, you can read the poem on their face before they write it on the page.
4. Write Write your story together. Grab hold of the pen and hang on as you move across the page of life. Sometimes you will dance across, others you will be dragged. You may have to cross out a word, or a line, or a page, but don't give up. Discouragement is a poet's biggest enemy, inarticulateness their biggest fear. So end each day with a semi-colon, because the story will never end the way you think it will, and there must be room for more. There is always room for more, more words, more laughter, more tears, more love,
When you love a poet.
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
the goldfish sing all night with guitars,
and the ****** go down with the stars,
the ****** go down with the stars
I'm sorry, sir, we close at 4:30,
besides yr mother's neck is *****
and the ****** go down with the etc.,
the whrs. go dn. with the etc.
I'm sorry jack you can't come back,
I've fallen in love with another sap,
3/4 Italian and 1/2 ***
and the ****** go
the ****** go
etc.
from "All's Normal Here" - 1985
15.4k
While
Dancing to her own rhythms
Coloring her own rainbow
Wandering in her own skies
intoning her own melodies
Rhyming her own poetry
Telling a love story of her with her soul
Making all her heavenly bodies the brightest stars
She is teaching the world the worth of self love and inner peace.
-diksha dhiman
#selflove
Aug 12, 2020
Aug 12, 2020 at 12:04 PM UTC
Lights off, ma bad-ass homies are juz drank,
buh then I saw ya dancing in da club.
Ma head was blown, let's kick it!
Cuz ya could be ma tight moll,
o' let's juz put a bullet
on the clock in these tight walls.
If I'm wit ya,
ma heart could fly so high like a G6,
Imma be glad if ya be mine
tho I ain't da niftiest sheik.
And if loving ya could take ma life
to da street, cuz of a set trippin,
then ya could be a flower
on ma Chicago Overcoat on ma big sleep.
Miss me wit dat! Ma bad,
buh I ain't gonna take ma words back,
I ain't no good, buh Imma gangsta poet
juz a poet wit rhyming words as AK,
so Imma put sum shizzle down
and write what it means.
To me love is gangsta, family is gangsta,
loyal is gangsta, if that's not gangsta,
I don't wanna be gangsta.
O' ma sheba, wazzup!
Let's show 'em what is real luv.
Then luv me less, until ya luv me more
and let's live as gangsta poets
in this gangsta world.
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 11:12 PM UTC
It all started with..
"Watch your step when it comes, to finding true love.."
Oh girls like me may slip and fall,
If we don't dream so carefully i thought..
Well I'm a mermaid on the rocks with no feet at all..
Yet I'm running scared and I don't know, where to go..
But it's kind of exciting
I love the rhythm that flows,
in my writing
And you've got a hold,
On my rhyming,
I don't wanna let this, break..
(Oops)
See I love you,
how your 4 lettered name rolls off my tongue too,
I wanna dance to this song too,
I wanna be your day break now
There's a film in class which I think you'd like..
Well I'm just saying that because,
It's a rom com gangsta black&white;
Oh we're a silent film ourselves with lines of poetry as our speech..
And you're the heartbeat behind every piece I write and breathe
So can I stay for longer?,
I've been through heartbreaks before, & I've come out stronger
But you're not a heartbreak,
You're a Wonder..
A Scorpio Wonderland of stars..
Oh I love 'ya'
And I've got secrets to whisper at midnight,
I wanna see London light up only through your eyes
I'll be your special friend if you think that's alright..
It all started with;
A dreamer falling in and out of love..
But I'll be on the edge of the world with you if you ever wanted time to ever stop..
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 9:52 AM UTC
I.
Hear the sledges with the bells—
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they ****** ****** ******
In their icy air of night!
While the stars, that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells—
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
II.
Hear the mellow wedding bells,
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten golden-notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells—
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
III.
Hear the loud alarum bells—
Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now—now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the ***** of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows;
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells—
Of the bells—
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells—
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!
IV.
Hear the tolling of the bells—
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people—ah, the people—
They that dwell up in the steeple.
All alone,
And who toiling, toiling, toiling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone—
They are neither man nor woman—
They are neither brute nor human—
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A paean from the bells!
And his merry ***** swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bells—
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells—
Of the bells, bells, bells—
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells—
Of the bells, bells, bells—
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells—
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
10.5k
K-popper Psy
Buzzing like a pesky fly
To out do his "Gangnam Style" hit
But you can't polish cat ****
*Clerihew
A Clerihew is a comic verse consisting of two couplets and a specific rhyming scheme, aabb invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley (1875-1956) at the age of 16. The poem is about/deals with a person/character within the first rhyme. In most cases, the first line names a person, and the second line ends with something that rhymes with the name of the person.*
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
I write to express,
Thoughts I can't suppress,
When something makes me depress,
When things happen in excess
Feels good to pen down, I Guess.
When I am alone,
I get in my own zone,
When my heart groan,
When I miss her skin and bone,
I write words expect them to make perfect tone.
When I am in a long Uber ride,
For sleeping I stride,
For you when my heart cried,
Writing something I tried.
Rhyming I applied.
This is how I write.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 12:37 AM UTC
The Super Wolf Blood Moon Eclipse
Into its orbit quietly slips
Eclipse the Super Wolf Blood Moon
The fork drives away with the spoon
Moon Eclipse The Super Wolf Blood
It trips and falls into the mud
Blood Moon Eclipse The Super Wolf
Growls “Ha!” ‘cause nothing rhymes with “wolf”
Wolf Blood Moon Eclipse The Super
Cleans up the mud with a little scooper
Super Wolf Blood Moon Eclipse The
Shines bravely over my favourite tree -
The moon always gives us such delight
Especially on this frosty night!
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 1:30 PM UTC
Check it I be the mic originator greater than the next hater
So my nines will degrade ya send ya back to ya maker undertaker
Shake ya
With my earthquake flows formin' portals bigger than the black hole leave ya third eye swole
My thoughts travelin' faster than the speed of light say goodnight from the snake bite
A rhyming python wears cables and nylon runnin' bars harder than marathon true champion none could knock a don
Birthed by the sun raised by moon Sonic booms soundwaves from heart rates feelin' doom and soon
To be resting in the womb
The belly of the earth retaining my turf know my worth make words hurts
So suckas better tuck in ya skirts
I'm catching mirth
Along with death til my last breath cookin' up rhymes from the *** of my mind n continue to shine
Its asinine to flex ya mind if you cross the gun line don't be a victim of a graphic design
(Ya tapped out)
Scatzzz all over the kitty katz with my woody bat making them brains cracks
Cells it ain't hard to tell ****** fear me cuz I be the archangel Michael
fallin' deep into the depths of my hell o well
If you try to inhale my lyrical tales this ship is set to sail
On ya brainwaves these days fools rappin' for cheap pay lookin' all gay **** that I rather use the AK
Sittin' by the window seal signing the release will my soul'll still
Be reaching regardless the hardest artist
Usually ends up a carcass manifest the darkest
Rhymes but shine light at the same time crime at an all time
High once I blaze my thoughts cells fought & caught
By the smokin' arrows of a ghostly pharoah
Thats just my ancestors though lettin' me know it's time to show and go blow for blow toe to toe
Hands or the chrome pistol
The ghetto Aristotle makin' bodies mold from the enemies that caught a cold
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 3:40 PM UTC
I'm very tired
And it's very late at night
My thoughts keep me up
It's getting harder to fight
I think about my failures
And everything I've done wrong
How I **** everything up
It's all a familiar song
My words are getting literal
I can't disguise my guilt
The hatred for myself
In every direction it's built
Well rhyming gets so hard
When I try to write my mind
Because I'm unable to find the words
That could shed light
Even without a rhyme or a rhythm I find it hard to articulate these dangerous thoughts I have. As many writers do, we have this sense of frustration because no combination of syllables can really portray the emptiness and sadness that lives in us. Styron called it "melancholia", but not even that will suffice.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
Procrastination
with lack of motivation
Leading you towards devastation
Favorite song on the radio station
Not really caring about any education
Instead daydreaming with a vivid imagination
Wanting to go on an all inclusive 3 week vacation
Taking a 30 minute break for some much needed meditation
Rhyming this many words to make a poem takes too much dedication
I really did write this so I'll put a personal problem in for some further verification
Thats my poem on Procrastination
Sorry Its Late
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 12:50 AM UTC
My unrequited golden dove,
you are a merchant banker
them bloomin' groovy bars
are sad tonight
but given the chance I wouldda gotten
cash & carried
& spent me porridge knife
loving your mince pies
had I not known
you'd treat me golden dove thus
& yes, been your trouble & strife
with all me Horse & cart.......
I know, not smart
I know, not smart
Translation:
( In English tis not a very impressive poem... it's just amusing how you can make cockney rhyming slang into a poem, so I've been experimenting.... I really want to send this to the guy I'm unrequitedly in love with actually... & leave him (hopefully)confused & in the dark as to what I wrote....mostly I just really want to call him a ' merchant banker' e.g ' wanker' & get away with it!! xD ' Wanker' is a particularly offensive term to use when referring to a man!)
* My unrequited love
you are a ******
them ****** stars
are sad tonight
but given the chance I would have gotten
married
& spent my life
loving your eyes
had I not known
you would treat my love thus
& yes, been your wife
with all my heart
I know, not smart
I know, not smart*
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
I try to write a poem,
but poems are too hard
Rhyming is for losers
and airy-fairy bards
To put a pen to paper
and write about your life
I've had enough of all of those,
they only cause me strife
Free-verse script is awful,
for fools without a beat
Repetition's far too simple
just repeat, repeat, REPEAT
Those lovey-dovey ode-things,
that wishy-washy crap
And poems about hatred,
you all deserve a slap
Spare me all your ramblings,
I don't care how you feel
Your self-expression surely stinks
of mouldy day-old eel
To tell a tale of wonder
never ceases too be trite
To sing of magic wonders
is nothing but pure *****
Your metaphors are useless,
your imagery is vile
Your sense of diction makes me gag,
I cannot stand your "style"
So save me your quotations,
please spare me all your rhyme
Shove that poem up your rear
and cease to waste my time
I look at what I've written,
this jumble of clichés
Looks like I wrote a ****** poem
so I'm the one to blame!
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 9:33 AM UTC
The Bride Test by Helen Hoang
If tomorrow is a big day with many things to do, here is your warning:
Read this book before bed and you’ll be reading it well into the morning
Esme, or My, is kind and clever, endlessly loyal and terrible at deceit
Khai is a complicated genius, steadfast and achingly, unknowingly sweet
Esme is determined to find a better life for the family she temporarily left behind
Khai is earning future freedom from set ups his mom can’t help but mastermind
A few scenes might make you blush - brilliant and perfect for this story
Bring lots of tissues, no reading on transit - this book is an absolute glory
May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 8:52 PM UTC
I write my pretty poetry
and I beg to know of thee
what you see
and what you want to be
what makes you flee
and what makes you free
how often do you plea
do you like a bee
or am I irritating thee
with my random personality
I'm sorry but that's my gravity
I don't need you I have my sanity
I call it sanity and you call it insanity
like I asked you who to be
I'd rather follow my fae
It seems to me
you lack the imaginary
and that I cling to the extraordinary
I mean who likes ordinary
I pick extraordinary
One more time
Extraordinary
My mind is endless
I act kind of senseless
Oh I see breakfast
here comes my fist
if you insist
I can't resist
Am I dismissed
I know there is something I've missed
the crazy insists
I can't resist
The malevolence
in your intelligence
I don't know where I thence
hence
I make no sense
This baby is crazy
But the God our lord made me
To be whoever I want to be
if you dream it you can achieve it
Believe it and you will see
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 4:07 PM UTC
Pencil or pen in the hand
On the paper it shall land
Every word a story will unfold
Taking readers to legends untold
Rhyming lines the secret potion
Yes, poetry over motion
Over and over letters collide
Victory when poetry decides
Every pen needs paper to confide
Readily in heart a poem shall reside
Movement of words across the page
Only your thoughts taking center stage
Trust in poetry to sing to your heart
In all it's motions, it will soon start
Opening doors to rhythmic places
Now and then to different faces
Apr 17, 2011
Apr 17, 2011 at 10:31 AM UTC
*Lay this poet down
When the time arrives
In a field of fresh cut words
On a bed of softened rhyme
Feel free to cover me
From my head down to my feet
In a poetic form to keep me warm
Perhaps a blanket of allegory
Place a silken sonnet pillow
Underneath my weary head
In a field of fresh cut words
On top a rhyming bed*
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 8:06 AM UTC
My dream girl found a lover
She speaks of him in rhyming lines
the joy she feels dancing between every heart shaped syllable,
thumbing it's nose at my breaking heart.
My dream girl found a lover
the deal was sealed with a rain soaked kiss
and hands that fit just-so.
A love tightly bound,
according to her rose tinted ink.
My dream girl found a lover
I hope he hears the fragility in her sighs
over the beauty that radiates when her smile crinkles her nose,
for that alone can distract a man from the sound of breaking.
My dream girl found a lover
to mend her broken heart,
a coveted position filled.
Leaving me forever dreaming
of almosts and half smiles.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
I saw her
I saw her smile
Focus out through the sparkle
Reflecting from her danglers
And the ones in the atmosphere.
Turquoise sequinned with beige
Crackers, all around her
Our first new year
Where she took me by
My hand, entangling fingers
Lacing, when she thought she'd
Lost me,skipping between
White walls and brown floors
Finding a way out
Through the maze.
Low hung ceiling lamps.
Dragging me back through my memory doors
Remains the same
White walls and brown floors
While I wait outside.
Inside you're having your chemo.
Crackers
Inside my heart
Slithering through my mouth
I see her in between
Those flinging and swinging
Prayer flags, I recollect
Hanging them in the backyard
Of our home, you
Bargained them out
A flea market, before
That year's Diwali
You had inside of you
A life that would bless us
In three months.
A tangerine Georgette Saree
And rhyming with it,
Rani colored bangles
Sneaking up on the roof.
Crackers
White walls, wooden floors
You lie quiet, unmoved.
A skyrocket ups in a distance
As I light you up in flames.
Crackers
You'd always come back
Focusing, defocusing
My memories' pitaara
Sparkling, dangling
Skipping and lacing
Through all those crackers
Lighting me up
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 4:21 AM UTC
Sweet and seductive
The twilight
Can I come in?
No need to worry
Frustrated moments
Tempting lies
Please don't scream
I'll be discrete
Caresses recollected
Old embraces
********** and bathos
Fur instead of hair
Movements in a mirror
Time for breakfast
The appearance of a peach
Fried sentences
Scrambled words
Rhyming couplets
Tea and coffee
Contradictory conversations
Flee from open mouths.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 12:47 AM UTC