Absurdity Poems - Poems about Absurdity

Evilly absurd, Bombing lives doesn’t win peace; Just wishful power:- War and peace are antonyms. You can’t make them synonyms:- War can not bring peace, Just collateral damage, And high death rates:- Peace comes with labors of love, Nourished by God’s healing grace:- War only knows hate, Bombing homes, schools, and churches, Filled with peaceful lives:- When will this world ever be A world rooted in love’s peace?! ...

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It is the world of Shiva and Shaitan It is the world of Krishna and Kant Devi on Nandi holding Demon and Son Devotees, Deities, Ash, Claps and Fun Fragile girl carrying child in her arm's Not mother but a sister’s virgin palms To Die for him but not a bruise to touch Just Bottom pinching nothing too much Anguish in her arms...

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frail pedicels fail when buds burst into blossoms ~ tempest-toss of times ...

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The other night Visiting in a dream a foreign land We waited in expectation The arrival of a group of alien dignitaries Somehow involved in guiding the culture. When they approached across the sound In a dark and rough hand-hewn canoe I ran out to take pictures Only to find a half dozen or so headless chickens Standing patiently in their effortlessly gliding...

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Alma is back on BBC with tales of eccentricity even the critics said it’s good they’re calling Bolton, "Brollywood" claiming it's worth the licence fee It's warmth is positivity facing life and absurdity in ways no-one else, would or could Alma is back BAFTA award winning TV based on the writers family Willan, she's our Walters and Wood champions the misunderstood if you catch it, then you will...

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In borrowed plumes a masquerade we stage. Thoughts echo doctrines passions are preordained. From broken families where fractured spirits weep Mothers of soulful sorrow With eyes that never sleep. We inherit canvases pre-primed with societal skews. But the brush trembles in our hand Praying for a different magical muse. Why is contentment suffocating and chokes every… Rebellious spark a shroud created from what...

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Jasper uses the words absurd and whimsy as if they are synonyms They are not the same to me, I say to him. Silliness, craziness and idiocy is not whimsy. Whimsy is imagination, playing, having fun, laughing, loving. Jasper begins to whisper about me. I have dog ears, and I do not like what he says. So, I whimsically bite him....

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HELLO SO CALLED FREE WORLD.!! Canada is a Crown country...So is Australia..For the time being! Melbourne was put under house arrest for twelve Months..! For no crime whatsoever..Think on this! Where is the fair governance?? Is there a valid one? In Britain the originator of colonial law, Caroline Farrow is under survaillance for speaking her thought Jordan Peterson is being shoehorned into...

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God, how do you feel watching your people? Do you chuckle when you see them, Scuttling beneath the weight of their own shadows? Do you find amusement in the plot of this world, With its comic characters known as humans? Tell me, do you revel in the tragic or the comic, In the unfolding drama of your grand play? Or do you...

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In the vast expanse of existence, Your world, I find, fails to captivate my senses. Unfortunate days, like wayward wanderers, Don the garments of absurdity, Parading their disconcerting presence. Each dawn arrives with a disquieting aura, Clad in a haphazard ensemble of potluck fabric. It seems that a patch of uncertainty Embellishes every opinion conceived, Nurtured within the confines of uninformed ignorance. Amidst this absurdity,...

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In the expanse of purposeless existence, We drift, untethered, searching for guidance. Hope, a distant memory, elusive, unattainable, No laughter escapes our lips on this path. Days and nights merge, a stifling haze, Smothering our spirits, blurring meaning. Like fragile smoke, meaning slips away, Leaving us grasping at intangible wisps. Yearning for significance, a flicker of light, Darkness envelops, veiling our sight. No stars guide...

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In the dawn’s hazy light, I see them, The weary souls trudging forth, Faces etched with half-slept weariness, Their spirits longing for escape. In this bustling cityscape, They gather at public transport stops, A sea of bodies, disenchanted, Each lost in his own solitude. Empty shells, surviving but not truly living, Bound by the shackles of routine, They move through life like mechanical beings, Heartbeats synchronized...

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You claim I am equal to you, and you to me Are you blind as a bat? Can't you see? You're a man from your head to your toe I'm a girl, now a woman, from the very get-go A man's muscles ripple under your clothes ...

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Lo, Meursault, the hero, of the novel, 'the outsider', Is spun by absurdity, like the web of a spider. Neither religion nor society does affect him, Nor does anything like Faith and Hope make him sing a hymn. Takes truths compatible like peanut, jelly, or butter, Or simply interchangeable like a knife or cutter... He admits his widowed mother in a...

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I thought I’d write an exquisite ode like marvelously well crafted code: a soaring flight to fancied flows, but that’s not how this clunker goes. You can’t out-sleep a five-year-old, or if you can, you’ll soon regret; you’ll wake in terror, blood run cold, with tortured thoughts of the limits of ‘yet’, leap from the bed in last night’s clothes. The moment that you...

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