Snarl Poems - Poems about Snarl

... In cricket what is the definition of Stoic? Who is the limited edition who debunks tradition Who is the true rendition of heroic? Pay heed to a rare breed from a special creed The house......

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...“I like it; go get it and stand it right there.” The ‘It’ was a concrete bird bath It was heavy as hell; about all I could bear I struggled… my wife had a laugh She’d seen it online; it was sel......

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...It started out with one good boy, A prehistoric, funny, little plushie toy, His name was Gary, quite refined, A murder floof with teeth aligned (yikes)! They dressed him up in bowtie class, He p......

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...The Diary Letter to Beatrice (A lone voice whispers, as the right hand, takes careful notes) In the deepest of silence I always walk Deep in thoughts, into my own created Maelstrom of D......

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...Some other people’s dogs bite, snarl and snap like turtles on speed. Our young puppy Beau dances, twirls, and bites his tail as if he’s on weed. The other dog, Buddy, is a gentle giant, over a hund......

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...Catapulted into seething temperatures beyond the imagination risking excitement in escapades that may seem inane, potential hazard weighted against predicament predestined, at some future stage I......

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...Mister Misanthrope had given up hope On the entire human race He'd bark and he'd bleat as he walked down the street With a grimace on his face Each day he would howl with a snarl and scowl M......

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...In a space reserved for not thinking a TV blames itself for telling lies to you. It's another fake cathartic moment. A wall clock coughs into its hands, Mouthing a bullet proof prayer - I wa......

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...I walk o u t... I am lost in unapproachable light—a spectral broth I am tasting the screaming silence—the archetypal observer dissects my essence-fossil Passion a seismic rupture betwee......

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...ai is nothing but ghostwriters, uses words of dead poets passed, ai is nothing but ghost writers, using the poets of the past. and they say it is the future, staring into their rearview, good......

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...As mortal veils dissolved, our bodies merged in the ossuary's somber symphonies, two mistress awakened by the velvet-wrapped cadavers, our disinvested hands tracing syllabic patterns across the olive......

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...Moving up one's journey uphill, Though for many a soul a thrill, Is a scary endless struggle Verging on a daily battle. One may expect thorns on the way And a scorching sun through th......

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...I still remember your easily smiling face, poetry spilling from your lips Singing joyfully at the dead of night, not a care in the world. Oh how I miss your face when it was alive, When it was not......

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...statuesque thy porcelain - so bright/or pure art thou hung as in some sacred place before a trophy to the human form; desire paramour, and thus, ‘twould sing sweet songs of grace, adieu. in museu......

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...In the cartographies merger with the soul, where topographies bring thought converge, a hidden rose blooms, its petals unfolding, like a cipher's dark emerge, thorns burst contradiction ......

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