Rhymes Poems - Poems about Rhymes

a penny saved is a penny earned adding insult to injury, her love was spurned afraid of his own shadow and against all odds airing his dirty laundry happened to both Todds the all mighty dollar earned by a chip off the old block all talk no action and an axe to grind, said Mrs. McLock barking up the wrong tree...

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Kehne ko toh Chand keh dun usee.. Kehne ko toh Chand keh dun usee. Par kambakht Chand par bhi daag hai.. Noor kuch esa h uss ajnabi chehre mei.. Ke Noor kuch esa h uss ajnabi chehre mei.. Khud ye chand bhi hairaan hai.....

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“This is a familiar route and one of the most common ones (at least to my seasoned eyes; you may find it beautiful)” — overheard. ______ A day like any other, but also a day like no other— ...

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I had all the wealth And I had all the fame I had all the glamour One life could contain I had all the friends And I had all the foes That now sit as equals On the end of my nose I had all these things But one message rings true To have and to hold Is but folly — adieu (Dreamsleep: May, 2025) ...

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Take all the way to death and took that car to the West to that car, all the way to the ing best place in the world and that was the bar where they got ing blessed with a beer. Two beers, three beers, four beers, and tequila, and they drove home drunk. And they were...

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Well, the FED was in. A light. Dude, he ing didn't die. His brain came out, but he ing was fly as came up says, I know what, what the problem is, and I'll fix it right away. We got IRS for this. We got FBI for that. We got CIA, you got. We got...

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Yo, Iggy Iggy, I can't say this enough, but you tall Ashley buff, you got long hair, and you're ing enough, ing it up on the radio. Sometimes you ing, you're ing it up because you're ing it up. Well, your vocal time and your vocal clown. Vocal, uh, Talent ain't ing uh, Around for...

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Weenie waller deanie dollar Queenie squaller, healthy holler Poorly written poetry does not have to make sense It can be dastardly, dull and delightfully dense Playing with words is the mission, and to have fun Most of my favorite poems were thrown down on the run Silly rhymes and words I made up myself give me joy I throw in pirates and...

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Febrile Fog obfuscates palimpsest varnished promises.. Naysayers hoodwinked... deluded players peeling layers..denuded.. Deafening din of our chagrin... Espoused by rabbles roused by mandarins’ sins.. Tarnished...pampered pilferers pickpocketing public purses... Deploring the warring cacophony of citizens curses.. Ignoring the boring nagging nadir of nurses... Corporate castles built without stilts on hourglass sands.. Placards versus lanyards.. Culprits preach parsimony from privileged pulpits.. Civic critics.. protests...pyrrhric..? No...

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1.) Laughing hard, The tears still roll by, Despite all the joy in my heart, You’ll always notice when I sigh. 2.) So, Some days I feel non-human. Grimacing, My teething got me wondering, What ima do then? Smile and wave while my mind race, Monday’s gone by, And by Wednesday, I’m driving by the tristate. One...

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Move in the Dark with animal Stamina Annuals Be Jamming Ya, More on the most HIgh More Diatribe about the mote In the minds eye Far as my eye can see So far they spying me So Far the ing commotion Bust the cone enough Frequently adjusted You needed me And we needed Us For the treatment of our animal Lust Maybe we can still...

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A whiff of my kitchen, a medicinal pill, the side order of rain drools at a windowsill. An utterance precedes a service; the rumble, the window slides itself shut. A bumble bee ricochets off a glass pane moaning louder than our train of thought waylaid with bacon sizzling up a storm. There's an anxiousness trapped inside as warm as indoors petrichor's marshmallow mood steamed...

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When rhymes are oddly forced And there is no plausible pattern Or hint of natural rhythm I think “what was the point?” A rhymed poem should pop like a song It is something you begin to sing It is jazzy like a nursery rhyme If you need help rhyming, buy the Mother Goose book Read her poems aloud and sing them This should make...

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After the end of all the loudest times A poet breathed in yet another breath Finally prepared to present his rhymes About love and hate, even life and death Prepared to give stories with falls and climbs To tell the tale of Mark, Calvin, and Seth Many more indeed was planned to be told Every story worth more indeed than gold He went...

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There are only so many pages and so many stages Of life I can riddle and write on through Until the paper's a waste, and the words are bad taste And I can't tell fiction from true Until the pen is bleeding and loves are leaving And my cursive has gone too far Eventually the trees start screaming that I'm...

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