Best Browses Poems


Premium Member Mind the Painter

       Mind paints canvas of life as amateur
     Some hues taken from palette of events
     Some contributed by human nature
     oozing from emotive urge at moments.
     
     Heart gallery frames happy happenings
     Those turn weepy are mercilessly torn
     Ugly chapters showing spastic paintings
     Some to erase and some get forgotten.
                  
      Brush browses on multiple episodes,
      Patches of pigments collide in collage
      kaleidoscope of memory decodes
      Some pictures go hazy, some to enlarge.
     
     Throughout life did ‘Mind’ the painter paint well?
     Canvas of life with overlapped hues can't tell.
Categories: browses, art, beauty, life,
Form: Sonnet

Monkey of the Snow

Nihonzaru waits for the sun, in the valley where steaming pools warm. This is the north, the far north of ice and snow and trembling bones.  He will survive as he always does. 

Thick greying hair, flecked with flakes of snow, protects from frostbite sting. Anxious and fatherly, he browses the breeze with his nose and eyes the surrounds. Pins and needles prickle numbed skin, unrecognized.   His family eases in to the lake simmering slowly just off the boil. 

I tell him he looks like an Eskimo, wrapped up in a woolly parka. Face pink from the bitterly cold. He is tired and wary, but content. 


                                           happy winter springs 
                             cold touch hands on warming hearth;
                                         burns like summer sun


Snow monkey, throw me a snowball.
Categories: browses, animal, nature, winter,
Form: Haibun

Theft Or Insanity

Stalker

Browses Tumblr

Thinking plagiarism

Stamen penises everywhere

Psycho
Categories: browses, computer-internet, confusion, faith, social
Form: Cinquain

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Beverly Hills Poodle

A pampered poodle in Beverley Hills
browses Rodeo Drive for her thrills
Jeweled dog bowls she'll seek
and silk leashes tres chic
Her owner smiles --Just hand me the bills

2/27/23
Categories: browses, humor,
Form: Limerick

Premium Member Jesus Christ and Karl Marx

Jesus Christ and Karl Marx seek lost children in the City of Gold

In shackled shack with weight of broken bricks on tin roofed promises
she rest her head against the precious paraffin cooker empty and cold

Five children to feed no milk in once beautiful breasts life sour and rancid
abused and battered and her husband long gone in yesteryear’s crossfires 

‘Tulinagwe’ is free from luxurious troubles plods on no fancy resides in
her township a voyage no carrier of progress and a storm with no sail

‘Mawuli’ lives close liberated from hardship quite posh in his mansion
a world away in marvellous marble box tree hedges protecting ascent

He rose manicured hands roses lawns perfumed clothing no sweat while
his gardener reaps thorns and oppression from inside walls’ dwelling

Born free after the fall of Apartheid his stars and his God have sheltered
adorned crowned zenith’s success a story from another page in the book

‘Mawuli’ lives resolute on ‘Tulinagwe’s shoulders brethren in union while
her dreams have dissolved and yet my free flight of fancy calls resurrection

For both in their names Christ shed his nails for Christ’s sake or for their
blood so let us be reminded that revolution does never start at the top

Has either read Shakespeare or for that matter the bible when ‘Tulinagwe’
has no privilege to read while 'Mawuli' browses his browser brokers his shares

Two sides of a hopeful reminder that Marx still inhabits money and freedom
and that the burden of change contains a message for all children of God

06th May 2017 written for ‘Fancy Free’-Contest
Categories: browses, change,
Form: Free verse

Bloodlines

Bloodlines

I saw her in a shadowed room,
She clicks dead people there!
In tempo to Matilda’s waltz,
She pulls them from the air.

She calls to those who tie by blood
While humming, reading sign.
She browses more for common bond
And what she can divine…
Categories: browses, family,
Form: Rhyme


Never Again Part 1

Part 1

Once upon a drunk bachelors night,
This guy decided to go down to his local drinking site,
Sitting in a sparsely filled dive of a pub,
Couples slurring, singles fingering at crap grub,
The smell of cheap beer and toilet waste emanating,
Half cleaned spew, alcohol stained carpets on floors bent,
Well-worn paths to toilets to empty body’s excrement,
Cigarette and cheap cigar smoke bellowing from drunk faces,
Filling the stained ceiling with ghostly looking traces, 
Prostitutes revealing there abused tattooed torsos,
Men pretending not to mentally indulge in their shows,
In this scourge of erotic beings affecting their bulge,
Lining up to be next forcing off their wedding rings to hide,
 Not that these night walkers would bother whether they lied,
Eagerly walking out after many a note spent on drinks,
Dragging their picks for the evening of chicks in false minks,
Stumbling off to revel in their spoils of the evening,
And off in their cars, to scary dark corners or lanes,
Hopeful not to go home to wives with trouser stains,
He giggles to himself as he imagines the explanations,
To their wives, why so late, with their lying creations,
On the stage he stares at a drunken dude karaoke rapping,
From behind he hears the sound of one hand clapping,
He continues to slowly sip on his 6th ice filled whiskey,
He has been there the whole evening now, driving will be risky,
Been very entertaining, better than television home alone,
Besides, what is better than watching drunkards dancing?
On a sticky make shift wood floor, each other fondling,
Dudes stumbling across the surface for the day’s special of gin,
So drunk they could win a break-dancing competition,
 Nobody gives a crap of where, what happens next, is clear,
He browses the room for a possible semi sober listening ear,
There is a single woman with the same glazed stare in the corner.

End part 1
Categories: browses, funny, humor, humorous,
Form: Rhyme

Every Fake Smile Carry Miles of Forsaken Tales

Hearkening to community's notion, 
confines himself to violent commotion; 
Mumbling as though stricken by demotion, 
stumbles to fathom out his emotion;
Hence, rumbles to drink an energy potion, 
which could empower him to submerge in devotion. 
        Sailing upon the journey of solitude, 
        embraces the high altitude;
        Possessing the mental fortitude, 
        counters the disputes with great magnitude;
        Masking the rage through aptitude, 
        He shrinks bitter attitude~
        for squeezing out some warm gratitude.
Wildly swimming into the tunnels of dark hollow, 
he persistently pleads for lamp light to follow;

         ( swish... swoosh... whoosh..) 
         Oh Great, looking out for her companion 
         appears the angel of destiny! 

She browses & scans to spot his brow:
bandaged with thorns of sorrow. 
At once approaches him with an aim to borrow 
Tiny little golden finger traces his forehead furrow, 
Eyes offer him illusioned syrup to swallow, 
assuring that his woes would not exist up to morrow. 
    Then, rapidly brushing the needles of pain aside;
        She promises to stay beside~
        alerts him to no longer bide, 
        demands him to confront the tide,
        comforts him to go down the slide, 
        For which, he earnestly tries to abide
        by relishing the deep glide, 
        treasure hunts his lost poetry pride, 
        which later becomes his daily ride. 
        Travelling in it he feels cured and satisfied!
© V. Deepa  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: browses, depression, faith, lost love,
Form: Rhyme

Insanity

he screams and yells and throws his arms
he runs helter here and skelter there
i don't do all that but am mentally ill
she rips her clothes, underwear n all
and roam d town, nakedness unknown,
i don't do all that but am mentally ill
he eats the things he finds in bins and browses through d trash in search
i don't all that but am mentally ill
she throws stones and sticks n bricks, hiding under sheds n bridge, her
battle in her head alone, i don't do all that but am mentally ill
if u could see what i see
hear what i hear
fight my battles n cry my tears, if you'v had everything taken away from u,your life ,your dreams, your very soul,you'd  grab your head and shake it hard till you can literally feel your brain a bounce,
you'd scream and shout when no one is home and fix on your face that mask of cool,
you'd ask a question and answer back, the characters only you have met
 you'd know that am mentally ill.
certainly am stark raving mad.
Categories: browses, fear,
Form: ABC

Talk of Joys

A full African figure
Is how I can describe her
The Joy of seeing her
Is it not to be found
In her leaving as they drool
Her face contemplative
And easy grace mixed with charm
A voice tantalizing as she browses
I think she is on Tiktok now..

Fala.. she jokingly calls me
When my teasing's are too much
The Joy of a platonic friend
Is to be found in altruism and loyalty
Did I mention shes from a background unrated
Joy easy is her name and being a constant friend
I desire the playful talk, flirting's, and daily teasing's
Categories: browses, celebration, change, cool, dedication,
Form: Narrative

To Woo My Lady

She is looking radiant,
Body silky like that of an infant,
To describe her beauty, oh I can't.
Your perfume inviting to both man and ant.
You've charmed me, state your request and I will grant.
Your eyes are like doves,
Charming to both friends and foes,
Your smile has killed a thousand heroes.
A cock sees your footsteps and crows,
Your thighs are like where rose grows.
Your glance churns my stomach with rapid peristalsis,
You are like the breeze that browses among lillies,
Your thighs rounded like twin cities,
Your lips like fishes dancing in the seas.
Blessed is the craftsman that gave you such curvature,
Well formed with a unique structure,
Loving you is now my culture,
Forgive me if I stop at this juncture.
With this few points, I hope to have convinced you beyond reasonable doubt, you are mine, yes you are mine.
Categories: browses, addiction, adventure, angel, beautiful,
Form: Rhyme

Tides of Life

I have
to be strong
when the longing
presses...

When
a wind
fiercely,
squeezes
 the link
of the pain...!

When
the loneliness
deafening
thunders,
and my soul
it floods...
when
browses
to cross
the storms...
loneliness and
longing,
are tides
that alternate...
low tide
throbs.
high tide
suffocates!

Who suffers
is the heart
this poor sailor
so innocent
 as much
castaway...!
Categories: browses, adventure, allegory, analogy, extended
Form: Free verse

Oh No''

Suzie's criss cross was for her bow because she always got caught
 Right hand over left hand was something she couldn't understand
 No matter how many times the string crossed her hand
 The poor dear lady would hit the target not..
 After shooting her dad there in the brow
 An incident that really made him scowl
 One dear man felt sorry for her cause
 He looked around and he made a browses
Categories: browses, adventure, art, friendship, happiness,
Form: Light Verse

Premium Member Refurbished Nursery Rhymes: Hi-ho the derry-o

I've two computers I'd like to sell,
They're old, but they both still work very well.
They are Windows desktops, aka, a PC,
One browses with Firefox,
And one with IE.
I can't recall, now, which is which,
But as near as I can tell,
The latter's in the Acer,
And the former in the Dell.
Categories: browses, humor,
Form: Light Verse

Premium Member Shine On

Above and below
Buddha browses karmas sent
Magic spaces of mind
Categories: browses, baptism, surreal, universe, uplifting,
Form: Haiku
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