Reverse Poems - Poems about Reverse

“Reverse Cyrano” Reverse Cyrano new wave poetry straddles the ruins milked with two sugars dark Tea dreams red leaves laquer the vain roadmaps that stain the ingrained with pommegranate poetry the bejewelled heart sweet and tart and thick skinned sliced and skewered each granate a sparkling hidden gem within the ruby words written riding astride those worlds like wolves in those comforting dicomforting whispering...

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I have given up So I can never say I gave it my all The only thing I can admit was The weight of failures held me down No one can convince me that There is always a reason to keep trying Because when the sun starts to rise The darkness remains I refuse to believe that There is hope for me So I always remember...

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The poet lives life in reverse, like a bird flying backward, While young, he meditates on death as a distant, somber horizon, He travels through the dark forests of thoughts, Where trees are sculpted from shadows and leaves dried by time, And the wind whispers secret melodies about forgotten endings and beginnings. But as the years flow like a lazy...

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She hurt me So don’t try to convince me that She was a genuine friend Because at the end of the day my heart twists in anguish And I’m not going to sugar coat it, I’m the one that cut her off I have to remind myself, No one can be trusted And nothing you say will make me believe Everyone deserves a...

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This Dame no longer believes in luck even my existence doesn’t make it real I’m the spitting image of prosperity still she doesn’t believe.. not at all sitting here wishing for another time another day another melancholy face what turned your brandy bitter what turned all those dreams sober eyes that would always roll the dice that inner light has become...

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The real Robin Hood took from the rich to give to the poor That tail is for sure Our Modern Day, Robin Hood straight from Washington, DC White House from the poor giving to the rich There no enchanted forest, but a person who thinks he is a king of the United States Robin Hood gave to the poor Robin...

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Glitter and misery on the dance floor a locked pop remix of ‘Hallelujah’ holding a glowing lantern on lux life yet it’s a frozen priceless kind of art devoid of soul or any gentle touch so structured a sway will intoxicate you get lost inside of a perfect form as soon as you give in to emotion maybe you go...

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Such a harsh gelid sprechgesang filled with such soprano snowflakes bitter whistling but so very beautiful melodies change with the temperature emotions fall and form a blizzard the wind’s echo is never too sharp a masque for a glittery wonderland eyelashes made electric with silver backup singers for an icy smile knives sharpen themselves on the air putting an end to...

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Let yourself fall out of that trance.. there’s no wrong way to cast magick Poppet, we can’t lose all we’ve known for more than a millennium a ritual will mirror just one thing the heart and intention of the spell there’s no reason for a talisman unless you can understand it’s rhythm keep your invocation benevolent lest the threefold...

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Ad Hoc Ad Litem: CHAPTER 2 Reverse Psychology has no real true antonym, if so, it would be known as persuasive psychology which is nonsensical and the redundancy of the word psychology be removed. On the other hand, Reverse Psychology has been used time and again, throughout RECORDED history since the year 1 BC, when...

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The reflection in the water of the woman Was not pleasing; even to herself she looked Hard. Frown marks were etched deep; two lacerations Between her black unruly brows. Thin lips clamped together in a downward Arc Showed her disappointment in life; her dissatisfaction. She didn’t want to go on; She didn’t want to go home. Her reflection said “I bet...

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don’t ask me not to to try and get me to do I can see right through ...

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They used to call me an arsehole, now they call me a head case....

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You are an enigma, only found hidden under leaves. A colour in the rainbow still unseen. Fate has formed your mind into a revolving door, without pressing the buttons, it remains like dead seeds, so I became your gardener to help you blossom - perceiving you will flourish into the rarest rose. Only you can soothe me from your thorns. You are...

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My father was the wisest man I've ever known. He never raised his voice or even a hand to me. It wasn't until I was older, and the years had flown that I realized his wisdom was reverse psychology. Dad asked a lot of questions and gave me leeway to allow me to decide for myself, right or wrong. Some decisions...

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