Outskirt Poems | Examples

Gazing early dawn

@Bappa Mazumder

Gazing early dawn, to be blooming soon
Gazing early dawn, to be blooming soon
Night is still young, unending
Weather, the morning forecast predicted a rain, ensuing
And then, this will stop me from seeing you, a refrain
The city and the outskirt
A lot sits in between, in hindrance
And the present tense and
the erotic boy zone
wondering through Facebook, whats app for
a lover boon, millimeters to million, thriving.
I am a heritage queue, an odd audacity
I saw time, bygone, as t'was forthcoming
in a closed 'laptop'
I and my fanciful clouded entropy,
the flower vase embellishing the dawn
you and a warmth, adore
one step closer to the brim, ashore!





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a small war

A small war


At the outskirt of Europe, a war
has broken out in countries where everyone drives Lada
mothers interviewed are proud of their sons
defending their land.
Should one son die, a big picture will appear in the living room
neighbors invited to coffee and cakes
his proud mother will tell what a good boy he was
and he died with honor.
I suppose in Nazi Germany, mothers said the same
until there were no sons left.
There will be peace, and everyone will claim victory
life will go on among the semi-literary people
who are doomed to live among high mountains and not learning
from past mistakes

Clever Cat and Mini Mouse

  Twist on Grimms’ Fairy Tale ‘Cat and Mouse in Partenership’

   Clever cat in guise of a friend
   seduced a timid mouse ,
   inviting her to live in his house
   pretending to be her spouse
   with aim to kill her at end.
   
  Cat gave her assurance 
  ‘ Good food I have managed
  It is my skill and challenge.
  Have dinner as I have arranged.
  Mouse smelt no bad essence.

  At nook of church in outskirt
  mouse came to stay with cat.
  From church cat stole a pot of fat.
  Fat was full of energy : instant.
  Cat offered mouse to eat first.

  Mouse started to take fat in joy
  Cat was getting ready to attack
  He was lifting paw from back.
  By mistake he hit the pot to crack.
  Mouse finished full fat to enjoy.

  What a wonder ! Magic to play.
  Mini mouse growing big and bigger
  turning to Macro mouse with vigour.
  casting cruel scary glances in rigour.
  Cat comparable as Mini, fled away.

Summer Love

when it's time for love we sit out on the balcony
in the bewitching quiet of the midnight air
a sublime summer fragrance drifts about
under a moon flashing her charming pout
it's a hush that entices beyond compare
as a backdrop to love on the outskirt of reality


AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Sick

Tension Spread Thick 

Layering Quick 

Mental Health Sinking And Physically Sick

Sympathy Party

Wounds Pathetically Licked 

The Sores Of My Past, I So Dangerously Pick

Black Cloud I Cloak, It Unbearably Sits

My Outskirt Persona Convincingly Tricks

A soul Held Captive, Body Imprisonment pit

Happiness Rarely Appears Through The Grit 

Broken And Bruised, Shattered To Bits

Accepting, I'm Far Too Gone To Be Fixed 

Yet, I Face Each Day Pretending And Refusing To Quit 



 







someday ill be fixed

Dark Grey Torrent

A hectic stare across the cliff,
grabs my prying mindfulness.
but yet I  hanker after urban fare,
such ruptured loyalty alas,
has a solid grip as I inhale,
the rampant toxic seaweed odor,
for which release a bland choice,
as bulging dark gray torrents,
remind us of some threat,
a fancy name as birthmark,
blemish, or craven riddle,
consequential strain I fear,
might alter this delay,
how city haven slant,
bustle, blast, benign graft,
has fallout clearly vetted,
sink block, suction pump,
remedial quick brush off,
two rocky worlds aside,
where common ground,
that less distinct blight,
consuming blind thought,
downpour on the crevice,
outskirt mere sideshow,
flight a gut reaction say,
let valor plot or plod,
whatever barren sabotage,
malaise, daft wanton dash,
each muddled exit’s close loop,
one must master by right,  
ominous veil now pending,
scatter brained inkling wrought,
lure, allure, attachment beckons,
departure problematic when pressed,
bursts of rain, bursts of sound,
seeking shelter but clueless,
would things be otherwise,
in large built up areas,
I ponder this dilemma,
while dreaming of fair vales,
or mystic laneways of yore

They Rather Lift Your Casket Than Your Dreams

THEY RATHER LIFT YOUR CASKET THAN YOUR DREAMS

Dreams are made 
just like beautiful caskets.
Dreams can be waylaid,
even in reality outskirt.
Dreams do come true
but death has only one rule:
that is, the inevitability of death.
With colossal demands,
a dreamer rules the earth.
Despite your reprimands,

your corpse is lifted up
only to later undergo a drop.
To lift the casket of a corpse,
it takes 6 to 8 people max'.
Now, fathom the possibilities 
and probability of the visiblities 
of those 6 to 8 people,
eradicating portentous evil
in a man's life when actively alive
and save a soul about to starve.
Let's lift each other's dreams in life
rather than wait for the coming of death
to lift our casket while dissipating wealth.

Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Form: Rhymes 
Copyright ©? April 10th 2023.

The Visit

The visit

My mother and went to visit her uncle and his family
they lived in the outskirt of the town what we thought of as posh
 we took the bus.
Mother’s uncle was a foreman at an abattoir, therefore middle-class
in his wife’s eye.
When he came home from work his family, had two children
They had dinner in the kitchen, we sat in the living room 
mother was given a cup of coffee I got a glass of milk.
When dinner was over her uncle came into the living room
I thought his hands were dripping with blood,
 I think he gave her some money when his wife did the dishes.
We left, I was feeling angry without knowing why in the hall, 
I said, have you got cats, no, his wife said? Odd I can smell cat piss.
Outside mother, scolded me for being so rude, but she smiled.
I never saw her uncle again nor his snobbish wife.
They never visited us, we lived on the wrong side of the town.

No Crushing, Let's Ignite

NO CRUSHING, LET'S IGNITE
                                   (LOVE)

The same way every year 
Shoes strips slightly away
A hole we're meant to cover
The Harmony in my solo  witter

It's bitter, to dance lonely,
It's better to dance lovely
We sing  dulcetly but differently
 without backups
Why should we wait for morn to break,
While we cast blushed glances 
on each others  in every darkened nights?

Hey! This our voices must merge
Our shoes should step together in array
A dance, a hole shouldn't be blank
A sweet love song must usher us with a cup of cold ice-cream in the nights of Valentine somewhere at an outskirt.

We've fallen in the same sea of feelings
So we can still jet-land into another city of undiluted ecstasy of love.
Our love will live even in greyish hair.
'Natural love always avail itself, let's kick it ON'
                                  ©Gideon i Tukuna

A Small War

A small war 

At the outskirt of Europe a war
has broken out in countries where everyone drives Lada
mothers interviewed are proud of their sons
defending their land.
Should one son die, a big picture will appear in the living room
neigbours invited to coffee and cakes
his proud mother will tell what a good boy he was
and he died with honour.
I suppose in Nazi Germany, mothers said the same
until there were no sons left.
There will be peace, and everyone will claim victory 
life will go on among the semi-literary people
who are doomed to live among high mountains and not learning
from past mistakes

Pillow Book

In the library, we meet a young lady; her study, it does overwhelm,
Resting, laying her head down, she then transcends into another realm.

She awakes amongst a rolling fog, as it clears she heeds an immense object,
Wiping her eyes, she starts afoot and discerns a large book standing erect.

The cover presented then creeks ajar, the yellowed pages adorn with dust,
Projecting light into the binding with an antique lantern that’s covered in rust.

Pages turn rapidly, fluttering as the outskirt of her dream fold over and billow,
Suddenly she awakes to realize that she’s been using the same book as a pillow.



——————
Date: May 8, 2019
Free Verse or Rhyme Poetry Contest - Picture #2
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Poem Type: Rhyme

With New Rise

I have seen a great dream
With holy inspiration
I know holy flow of Ganga
Fallow me with right inspiration
I am not moving in past
Now my heart looking toward future
And started to view dream
And ready to do fulfill
With the imagination of god made art
My heart want to make a sketch
And want to make a meet
To the idol of my heart
I am working to accomplish
Dream of love and real light
I know at the outskirt of my destination
She is waiting with new rise

Now I Never Want To Lose Her

My search for her and love
Yet never touch the end
I know now she is very near
Now I never want to lose her
I went near the high hills
I went to outskirt of earth
I made search in far sky
As well as at deep sea side
I viewed the garden of god
My search for heavenly art
Feelings say now journey is over
Like a fairy tale she show her appear
Now I never want to lose her

Mix of Us Is Immortal Fact

As the night search the rise
As my heart do your search
You are outskirt of vast sea
I am just a flowing river
Our meet is an automatic process
My long journey cross many barrier
At the end you do my wait
I know immortal fact of life
And destination of my true rise
You are very annoyed and fast
But my flow is calm and slow
But we are made for each other
Mix of us is immortal fact

Touch Your Height

Strong imagination work of art
Reach near the soul of heart
Don’t try to grip something
Do a free fly touch the outskirt
Don’t view dream try to create a dream
Look at her she is rising sunshine
She inspire you control the time
And do an effective beginning
Start the day with artistic vision
And work on the beautiful reason
While you sketch her she turn into art alive
Sky will fall you can pick the stars
Just think high and touch your height
POET-ANURAG SHARMA
ADDRESS- DG-1 FLAT NO 27B
VIKAS PURI NEWDELHI-110018 INDIA
MO-8743082486, EMAIL- draditiadi@rediffmail.com

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