Best Narrow Poems

In the narrow margin between life and death,
I feel as I'm walking a tightrope - but balancing.
I'm a portrayal of metaphors, 
illuminating like spring's moon,
who...

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*I Will Cry*

If this world really mattered,
Why does it bleed?

I could tell you how much I love you,
But, that will never heal the pain.
I am...

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You asked me the other day, my friend, 
who I am and I replied:
I am you in another body!
Yes, it is true,  
Look, how...

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In moments of twilight civility
an exchange of gifts - 
darkness for light..

RISING

from beyond the softening silhouette edge
you brighten like a blushing damsel
hazy haloed
unabashed in the...

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I shall resolve to leave this
Place now...
And steadfastly search out,
Nestling between ridge and bluff
Amidst the folds of a foreign 
Land,
Several acres of unkempt ground
Fallow and...

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POTD 9th April 2018

Synopsis -
A story of selflessness without jealousy or rancor that is often evident through the ages in all walks of life, even...

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The year has finally yawned and turned       
Upon a half-revealed shoulder.
A vibrancy, intrinsic to a reemerging 
Enforcement of the...

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Streets of blood

She stood upon the terrace high
streets of blood below
The gate left open in the night,
a dark sky threatens snow

With swine and pearls running...

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When imbalance of life churns hapless poignancy
And the zephyr of inequities breezes melancholy
Dissonance reverberates echoing pathos of grief
Seeking exaltation within metaphysical profundity
As hushed posture conjures...

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Four friends and I, one Sunday, take a ride.
our church still closed just short of one full year.
We drive, white almond blooms on either side,
instead....

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(Dedicated to one of my childhood friends)

You were one of those charming lilies
that bloomed, so fresh, in my springtime pond;
when my homesick wings of longings...

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If I  had a pretentious brain
which acts faster than my heart
Maybe then,I would abhore this soul
which spreads freely through each verse
Maybe then I would...

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When I think of India, I think of dark eyed beauties,
their foreheads painted with decorative red dots,
and I see them moving deliciously in beautiful bright...

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For years before the narrow windows of my senses
                ...

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Oh if I were a true poet
one that could write a good rhyme
I would compose a few ones
and earn myself a dime.
 
Why, I'd write...

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