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Best Malayalam Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Malayalam poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of malayalam poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Lost in Love


Winter is over 
The rains have stopped
Flowers now in bloom

His voice calls out my name
His tender lips touch mine
His caresses soft and warm
Delightfully sublime

Smothered with his kisses
Sweet as the taste of wine
Love is wild flower
Untouched by tests of time

He brought me to his banquet
Filled with sweetness from above
“Drink deep, oh my darling
Let us lose ourselves in love.”

Copyright © Jackie Faasisila | Year Posted 2014

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Halloween Moon

Halloween Moon Crabs

A tide rises to leave behind hundreds of tossed colourful halloween moon crabs to stroll

Craving social connections like homeless souls furtively hunting their unsown roots

Celtic calendar hides matronly lunar freeing guised children and bodiless souls

Five more years for the halloween moon, till then crabby purple claws in orange suits 

October10, 2015
Contest: Halloween Moon
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Form: Quatrain

Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Have you ever seen a Commie drink a glass of water

That is what they drink
never water
on no account will a Commie ever drink water
and not without good reason
water that's what I'm getting at
water is the source of all life
seven tenths of this Earth's surface is water
why do you realize that 70 percent of you is water
as human beings you and I 
need fresh pure water to replenish our precious bodily fluids.
are you beginning to understand

That’s why I drink only distilled water
or pure-grain alcohol

Have you ever heard of a thing called fluoridation
do you realize that fluoridation is the most monstrously conceived 
the most and dangerous Communist plot we have ever had to face

Copyright © Nigel Fox | Year Posted 2014

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.


Now wives they are ladies of note
Many poems on them have been wrote
It would seem every day
That all they want us to say
Is I Love You that’s their favourite quote

Copyright © Owen Yeates | Year Posted 2014

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Drink on the Nightstand

A drink on the nightstand calls
To me who would be the listener
To hear what he has to say
About what happens in this room.
The water within the pale, clear cup
Is lined with lipstick and plastic
But all the while he still cries
As though the lips who touch him are his.
A drink on the nightstand screams my name
Come and taste what I have to give
But I know that one sip of his poisonous nectar
And no longer my life shall I live
For you are the drink within its tall
Drink on the nightstand that calls.

Copyright © Hannah Edwards | Year Posted 2014

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.

More Beautiful

Can there be a more beautiful Snowflake
To rest upon your pink nose 
 Yet melt almost immediately 
Like frost on a fragile Rose?

Can there be a more beautiful Lily
To bloom in the month of May
Which releases so potent a perfume
That it takes your breath away?

Can there be a more beautiful Beach
To walk on with bare feet,
One with soft powder white sands
And a breeze to temper the heat?

Can there be a more beautiful Rainbow
That arches across the sky
As showers pour in profusion
Like tears across your eye?

Can there be a more beautiful Sunset
With glorious colours to end the day  
So wonderful a closing scene
That it makes you want to stay?  

Yes! When enjoyed together 
With the love of your life;
So enjoy all these, and more,
With your husband or your wife.

Copyright © paul holmes | Year Posted 2014

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.


I'm in the garden of my life
Stumbling- I fall over rocks
I walk each step dignified
Standing tall - life is justified
The flowers bloom I reminisce
The buds flourish in my mind
The past coming up , just what shall I find?
Colors are ever so radiant and brilliant
I tell you , I love you and want you still
Cherishing each memory in my heart
The world at my feet - I see
This beautiful landscape enchanting me
I wish upon a star in the twilight
I see the constellations shine at night
And a pregnant star enlightens me
Born a falling star in my sight
And the muse listens delicately
Apollo leads my way with the arts
And I show my reflections with my soul
I write the words that make me whole
Listening you have the given opportunity
To cherish my thoughts indeed in your womb
I recollect in time , I'll open the door
And granted my words are relished
I'd say each poem that I portray
May bloom in your personality , each given day.... 

Copyright © stacey law | Year Posted 2014

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Visual Of A Verso

(Wined Floor)

The wine brewed without
Drip drop drip drop
Visual temptations lured me
My bronze tresses wet
Down the nape to my soul
Red painted toes
Danced on the wined floor
Decked for love.

Balveen Cheema
Contest: Visual Of A Verso
August 20, 2015

Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.


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Copyright © sanjana s prasad | Year Posted 2014

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.


Don't back down,
swinging and fighting, 
is not the only way to go down.

disregard the hurt, 
and look for love,
it's hard to know,
that you can find someone to truly love.
you've tried so many times before,
but is this so bad,
you've given up,
and that's why you're mad.

you should change,
which takes some time,
evaluate the inside,
and forget the mind.

don't you remember, 
that you are all that you have,
no one will love you,
the way that you have,

please give it some thought,
before you give up,
this is your fortune, 
Not just your luck. 

love Whitley R. Fields

Copyright © Whitley Fields | Year Posted 2014

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.

First Trip

When we travel first time 
All alone to a new country 
Many worries will land 
Along with you at the airport. 

Somebody at the immigration 
Will be scanning our eyes 
Using the camera lenses 
To take an image of our worries, 
The colors of our dreams 
From our thumb impressions.
The dates of our solitude 
Will be stamped on our passport. 

San Francisco, when did I land 
Into your colorful dreams 
Like a silent computer robot 
By loaning my village memories. 


Jul 24,2016
Something Seemingly Insignificant and Unexpected Changed My Life

Copyright © Baiju Joseph Thalupadath | Year Posted 2016

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Picture This

Picture this.
Exploding pipe bombs.
Land fields that can take your arms off.
Driving off road, and frenzied, with excitement 
Adrenaline RAGING.
Oh, yes, Syrian Teenagers,
It is “Let’s See If We Are Really Alive” day.
Okay, we’ll let in some Africans too, but
Only if they are wearing hoodies.
The Mexicans want to join us?
Okay, but you have to climb the T-Wall first,
As a little joke, to amuse the Donald.
Yes, it is happy MIND Field Day in America!
We got tweeted the details last night.
It’s like Hunger game Day, and Grab the Poppies Day.
HAHAHAHA Why would I use the other word?
I’m not the misogynist racist tweet-stupid chicken bully!
I’m not even allowed to say “You’re fired.”
So, today in the land of “Let’s see if you’re alive 
We have a side game called “Let’s go after Syria
So the Congressmen and Senators
Who only want to keep their jobs at all of
Our expenses,
And possibly the expense of the
Social security fund which they
Have decided to STEAL from us….
The Congressmen and the Senators
Who are also learning how to tweet
And be stupid declared today
“I won’t have to show my taxes or 
Pay a vendor day, and the little guy
Can play in the exploding pipe bomb field
Because it keeps the adrenaline pumping,
And we want to see if they are really alive.”
Hey, I’m in!
I am the first in line.
I want to take my jalopy and drive recklessly
Across the mind field. I really really do!
Some younger women are behind me, laughing
Because they think not only am I invisible, but
I cannot hear them.
I can hear you making fun of me I tell them,
In my mind because I’m polite and socialized and 
I’m so excited about the races and the thrill of almost
Being killed minute by minute with the stuff they are going to
Catapult in – toilets, old refrigerators, Russian foot soldiers, etc.
That I can BARELY think straight.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the handsome door man says. 
“Excuse me.”
He excuses me and a bunch of excited young men
And Bernie Sanders and a mask-wearing Bette Midler,
And we all stare at each other in anger as all of the young
Available beautiful WHITE ladies are ushered in.
All of a sudden I realize all the beautiful young gorgeous
Brown ladies are still out here with us and I start screaming
And shouting and tearing it up.
Bette and Bernie understand immediately. The three of
Us lead the fray, and we become a mighty mob and
We are yelling and screaming and demanding our
Turn until we look in the glass T-tower walls and
See the mayham that is taking place. Young beautiful
White women are being killed and maimed with pipe
Bombs, and three-headed dogs are ripping their legs off
And stuff. There is blood and screaming and gruesome 
Real tearing them up over there. The others are watching
In horrified fascination, and I can watch no more.
I turn away and begin to cry.
I cry that America has become so corrupt
That a misogynist chicken-bully who professes
To be a rapist could have been elected to office
In our country.
I cry that we have elected a President who
Did not pay any of the little guys when they worked
For him – the plumbers, the electricians, the tile layers, the air conditioning men.
I cry that the only ones who thought they
Were admitted to the T-arena to participate
In “Let’s See if They Are Alive Day” were young
White women, not those of us in hoodies, or those
Of us from Africa, or the Irish, or any of the young men.
I guess it makes sense.  
Because the ones whose vote counts now are the
Hillbillies, and the trailer trash, and the glued-to-the-Fox
REAL news channel people, 
The non-thinkers,
The non-dreamers,
The ones who get
Angry if we want to
Abolish the electoral
College, because we would like a vote too.
Please ignore all of this; I don't do politics
in Kansas, where only the elitist Republican's
vote count.
I am learning.

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.


Happy; as MALALA back to School,
Toweling our Tuesday Tears.

*	*	*	*	*	*

In the name GULMAKAYI.......
The valley of Maize flowers
Activism she got fromfather
Who namedher after MALAYI
Banning music, movies & schooling;
Filled her pen in blood for blog.
Giving “BLOWS TO CANNONS” she blogged
Gone was the sleepof BLACK-THALIBAN.

*	*	*	*	*	*

On a Tuesday back from school;
Dreaming peace in Swath Valley,
Giggling with friends in bus
Heard theshout “Who is MALALA?”
Rushing, screaming, the bus was blocked;
Shot the little princess and friends,
Fading flowers from dreams they fell;
Turning ‘Swath’ in mourning red.

*	*	*	*	*	*

Tubes and wires as necklaces.....
She lay in bed ofWORLD’S LOVE
Doctors, surgeries, medicines and prayers;
Blessed us to hear her again

*	*	*	*	*	*

Oh God! give the courage of MALALA;
To every ‘blossom bud’ of world,
To fight and win against the GUNS
Turning our world a HEAVEN.

Copyright © REGHU RAJ K | Year Posted 2017

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Murder me with thy love

have gone through 
Many murders
Throughout my life
Savage and heart-wrenching.
Heart lost it's zeal
But the one that 
Made me to 
Live in a mausoleum 
Without getting died
Is thy love
Dagger of ur 
Love pierced my flesh
Ate my ligaments
And spitted the remnants
Like a devouring wolf
Don't murder me with 
Thy love...
Coz,i have already lost
The chime of my voice
When u losed the key
To open my heart

Copyright © sneha nair | Year Posted 2018

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.


It's most fun to live on the line
and see dirividives infront of your eyes,

It's most fun to be alive and see for your side every mime

It's most fun to align with the stars,
and be there before they start

It's also something to granitize,
because a stereo only blasts your demise

The next motive is errant spangled hermetic story board sting
and you... silly as the strings tying together every ring

Copyright © Jimmi Canada | Year Posted 2018

Details | Malayalam Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Last night

Five summers past, Varkala was to be a geopark
Three of us today are walking its streets in the dark.

Between buildings and trees are hidden birth rocks
Of a vulnerable cliff,

We are hunting for the cinnamon bush lark
Who have found a new habitat on these soft sedimentary rocks.

To save Varkala, we drew out a chart
With dots to show where to place garbage and dumps
With pointers to not dig the cliff,

On the slopes we drew lines to demark
From where water should drain down
Leave the cliff as before, dry and stark.

We hope to find out land's birthmark
After we give Varkala a bright new start.

Copyright © Vidya Raghunathan | Year Posted 2018