Dramatic Poems - Poems about Dramatic

There was an older man who was not very liked. He sits and draws cartoon characters based on his childhood abusers, often saying their names out loud. He remembers people who have passed away and calls them "bastards." He sometimes feels like crying but holds back, worried he might not like the taste of his tears. "his...

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I’m back once more. I spent a long night contemplating which people to remove from my life, the ones who drag me down. It’s time for a transformation in 2026, a chance to relieve the pressure in my chest. Like a Maidenform bra that left an imprint, What a relief it is to let them go....

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Therapy session 4 In the profound darkness of a frigid night, I can hear his labored breathing. He appeared to be worn out yesterday. Today, I find myself fatigued by the wounds of love, exhausted by my inability to trust in this concept we call love completely . Love is meant to be gentle; love is meant...

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Somewhere, a poem exists in our minds about love, life, politics, natural disasters, religion, and contentious issues. Suddenly, political uprisings and wars emerge, with ISIS and figures like Donald Trump acting as modern crusaders. Here we are, as citizens, once more feeling disheartened, striving to discover beauty in life amidst chaos, seeking a...

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Musings Of Rimi...A Versatile writer I do have huge intrest in high talent mgt' I do still pen whether am wrong or right I still do love a 'tad' too deeply even now I still aspire to reach for the stars so now I will scribble with a dream to make it now I do still know to make it kaa...

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I woke with blood in my mouth and no memory of the scab that sealed the rasure. I’m cat-spitting dog-growling peregrine-divebombing rooster-flogging badger-flipping hornet-stinging wolverine-ripping mad. I fired the sun for showing up late cursed the fridge light until yogurt soured in terror. God called I let it ring twice. The therapist said breathe so I swallowed my tongue now I speak in the language of things with canines. coyote-howl syntax vulture-vowel decay the guttural grammar of...

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I look at the creamy butter and remember your tender expressions: "I love you; I love you; can’t you hear me? I declared my affection for you." Saying "I love you" feels like a ritual, repeated endlessly by those who fail to realize that a ritual only has significance when there is true belief in...

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The poems that never get read. Sitting in some pile of papers on the desk. They just didn't have it to go anywhere. Though they hold the stories of lovers and haters. Big men and little men. Winners and losers. Beauty and the beast! The World, what a place! The tales of great drama called the human condition. From the past and the future...

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**Mental Rumination** Every single day brings with it a new and unfamiliar word, each one carrying its own distinct meaning that often resonates with the shifts in my life. Retirement, for instance, has proven to be a profound transformation, especially during this initial year. I had envisioned a seamless transition, convinced that I had everything perfectly...

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A man who went to jail for stealing, told the judge: “Your Honor, I hold no grudge: with shelter, food, and clothing, steady work, no debts or owing, a four year college education, health and dental care, and weekend recreation, only a fool would contradict a jury’s so generous verdict. ...

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. her tongue gently protruding past her lips whilst i waltz (in mine think) ...

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He was just a boy alone in journey of life Morals, high standards upon family name he walks No recollection to memory, just brief thought in mind Certain image portrayed, locked away in the depths A way of life's poverty, morning dose's of the syrup Just a toddler throwing sticks on tobacco, outhouse out back...

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I. THE WANDERING I was born with a life that bled— a seafloor womb dragging tides of fern and marigold char The priests brought saffron and fear crowning me with diagnosis They said: She is too empty They said: Fill her with figs with seed with stillness They said: Her belly speaks too loud Mute her O Plato old patriarch of phantoms my body was no beast— just prophecy you never learned...

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I feel your unrehearsed pauses-- the rustle of a blue shirt in leaving a tangy ache your firm lips make, holding back cold, collected words. This rendezvous ... a slow-fire quiver an ending which has it's own interment; and outside, night wrestles with time brittle dew against my eyes, dry mouth licking an estranged bite that reminds me of your frivolity ....

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This is a problem growing in direct proportion To the papers that we face very soon In everyone’s speech a pronounced distortion And half the class sleepwalking at noon I’m here chiefly to bring to your attention You may soon not understand us Because I for one, others by extension Shall be speaking nothing but Physics because James is moving about too excited Gerald...

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