Thinnest Poems | Examples

my unmatched love

love is an overused and time worn concept 
marriage is banal 
yet nothing about your love is threadbare
you are my evermore
you wear me thin but even the thinnest strings of my fate spell out your name
there is no sphere where waking up on your sore bicep takes a backseat in my thoughts 
you are not a part of my anatomy; you are it. 
my heart my soul my mind 
you own rent free space 


you eclipse my ambition 
nothing holds a candle to the love i’ve cultivated for you over these years 


you are a paradigm of the moment where i realise what your love does to me 
you make me a wreck and yet all it takes to fix me is you 
you are the poison and you are the antidote 
you are the totality of my thesis; you are the only thing i understand.

Political Stage

The world’s a battlefield, a restless stage,
Politics a war, rage upon rage.
Nations clash with words and might,
Underneath the glare of a fractured light.

Donald Trump, a seismic leap,
A tempest roused from the deep.
Voices thunder, crowds divide,
Truth and lies in a tangled tide.

An antichrist, some whisper low,
Dark prophecies begin to grow.
Fear and fire in the minds of men,
History’s shadows rise again.

North Korea, a loaded gun,
Dictator’s moon eclipsing the sun.
Rocket trails cut through the night,
Power draped in nuclear fright.

Europe stands on shifting sand,
Borders blurred by a wary hand.
Unity’s dream, a fragile glass,
Cracks appear as ages pass.

Leaders march to the drum of pride,
While common hearts seek a place to hide.
Peace a dream, war a dance,
Hope the thinnest thread of chance.

mj/2025

539 A ki labonye purno pran -Tagoreweb

539

Spring reigning to the fullest brim , dancing on the exaltation, my athena’s kite!
A homecoming fest , the ecstasy, the zeal tapping on the rejuvenated chant, season’s delight!
The blossoming thrive of the floral tribute ,a joyous nature sent along a heartsong
The peak and the sneak, the mood with the high time, too long, linger for so long, beyond!
Stepping stone that greeted her welcome home, the thinnest of the sound , homebound
The soothing song to greet with the diva to hymn
The sunlit sun and the absorbed eternal sky for evermore to churn.

What if it was a world of words

And writers their disguise
Some traitorous tirade of tongeu twits torrentially
pouring their page on their hearts

Some surprise

I am the largest collection of leaves
Be leaf me

Wither the spoon
Killed with a knife’s

Thrust never gave me the push

What if gravity decided to let go

Some would twist like thinnest thread in tendrils of
terror

Pity seldom used
Justice lies beneath a tarp slowly gathering dust
Hope has changed to less
Love no longer shared
Heroes stopped their fight

Beloved, how sad you tread into the mist of lost dreams

Beloved, how sad you tread into the mist of lost dreams,
Wandering in the cold blue, befriending the forces that are your foes.
Beloved, how sad, born of magic, a soul crowned with whirlwinds of ecstasy,
Yet you claim your fate is the dark spirit, eternal and ill-fated.
Beloved, how sad, and yet, how human,
To cling to the thinnest hope with all the strength you can muster,
Erecting an altar in memory of shadows, calling it the only one that will matter.
In the flow of your consciousness, you entwine with fleeting phantoms and illusions,
Seeking solace in the crying wind, in the rain that hurts.
But deep within your soul, you know the magic is not lost, just hidden beneath a veil,
In every step through the darkness, there is a ray of light, a corner of ideal.
Beloved, how sad to see only shadows and sharp edges in destiny,
But how human to hope, to believe in the light that secretly beckons you.
Perhaps in this magical sadness lies the answer sought,
For even in the deepest night, you have kept a glimmer of hope.

Sliding to the First Day

It is summer,
and the umbrella men
are selling hotdogs.

A good-looking priest
enters Saint Pat's,
gangly girls giggle,
then make the sign of the cross.

Thursday is All-You-Can-Eat pizza day,
the joints will be too crowded,
the slices rushed out, slapped down
way to early or late.

Office workers flock
from the second floors of everywhere,
huddle shoulder to shoulder,
to spread rumors,
then return to gaze at desktop
computer games
or TikTok –

**** is a compensatory privilege
of the under paid.

The year hurries on,
rats scurry behind neon facades.

Downtown is slip-sliding,
it used to be a place to get noticed,
a gated area for outdoor passions.
Modest ladies now
hold the hem of their skirts down,
and not because
of any up-lifting wind.

Dope is in the air,
thieves hustle to get their share.
Tourists meander dazed,
as the stark exposure of the city
tramples over them.

Winter bites its chill tongue.

Come December’s last glittering moments,
that glass ball will hang by
the thinnest of threads.

~~~~~~~~~~~

(new edit)

Ghost Ship

Like a ship that's been weathered and worn
her heart didn't survive the turmoil or storm,
all her dreams lay wrecked, shattered, and torn
her love like a ghost that finds itself reborn.

Now sad and alone she sails the silent sea
lost in a dream that's become her immortality,
sailing lost to all she sails on hopelessly
breathing in the thinnest of air internally.

She sails now on a lonely deep blue sea
between the moon and yesterday's reality,
drifting endless in a world of in between
she searches the horizon for a lost dream.

Under the cover of dark clouds at night
she reaches for a shore to add some light,
to free her from her stage of fright
to finally find the love of her life.

On the water under the starry skies
almost silent she whispers a soft sigh,
like a lost angel singing a sad lullaby,
still her dream of love never realized.

Since love's death she waits for its rebirth
aimlessly sailing the seas of her sad earth,
but she only sees another vision of love is gone
again she raises her anchor it's time to move on.

Shinnying Up Trees

I'd trek through the woods as a boy,
Nature was my one source of joy.
And She taught me things I didn't know,
many forgotten years ago.

I saw how the land would transform,
blanketed by a Winter storm.
And I'd build forts in drifts of snow,
many forgotten years ago.

Shinnying up trees scraped my knees;
yet I would climb the thinnest trees.
And ride their sway when winds would blow,
many forgotten years ago.

I never thought of growing old;
for there was so much to behold.
Time sped up, though it once ran slow,
many forgotten years ago.

The Sweetest Ring

if I were a tree, I'd have sixty-two rings.
The fifth one being the thinnest.
There was hardly any rain that year.
Blackness was at its thickest.
Everything was very still... 
except for the shining scythe.

Can't say for certain what ring would be the sweetest.
Number thirty-five comes to mind.
It was marbled with humble-somewhat wizened.
Fresh wounds bled lavender...
dreams were glazed in mint.
For the first time I grazed 
the orbit of pure contentment.

Maybe the sweetest ring lay just ahead.
Just a spray of prayers away
from the heartbeat of the heavens.

Polar

Feelings are born of choice 
You follow the inner voice 
and decide Or not
Which is also a decision in and of itself
The easiest way to describe it is 
Bi Thinking of the cartoon trope 
Listening to the horns or the wings 
between ur ears
To choose which opinion on ur shoulders 
you want to hear
To be By Arctic and Antartica simultaneously 
Is to only possess one choice
To have only the two battle each other 
Choose to follow whomever is louder 
or not
Silence or shout
Smile or frown
It is not a fight won or lost
Not a wise one Or a dolt
Nor peace without revolt
It is singular or it is zero sum
How would it feel to toss a 
coin and not be able to at least 
conceive the concept of three outcomes? 
Flip your own coin and wonder 
if it could never land on 
its' smallest thinnest most improbable 
Side
what probability would you believe
Once again i get ahead of myself
Or is it Arrears
That's how 
it feels
To be 
Bi 
Polar

It Rises and Sets

Life is like the sun. It starts by
rising but sometimes it starts
by setting inorder to rise at the end.

They say the earliest bird catches
the fattest worm. But there is a day 
it will catch the thinnest worm
regardless how early it came,that's when
It should realise that it's about time,
Its sun is setting

Whenever it sets for one it is
rising for someone else. Even though
it is setting it doesn't mean  that you 
should stop working. Because it never 
rises once nor twice but multiple times 

It Rises And Sets.

Black Friday

I bought you a gift, Black Friday cheap
I hoped you would like it and want to keep
My credit card quaked and shook in my hand
I spent much more than I had planned

Black Friday gripped me, bargains galore
I saw the glitter, glistening and spent some more
The gold so yellow, Black Friday blond, amber
Will drape with pride on your delicate camber.

Black Friday arrived, a wooden gift box hidden
Inside the thinnest chain your heart may be broken
The diamonds larger on the screen, but tiny reality
The gold a wafer, the emeralds pale lacking vitality

Black Friday lied and Black Friday cheated
My cards are naked, my accounts are depleted
I dashed in the morning through the showers
And hid Black Friday, with a bunch of flowers.

David Cox 19/02/23

Under the Shine of the Moon

The thinnest clouds do roll and drift,
As His light does sieve and sift

Left with a trail of silvery haze, 
That Man still smiles His fullest phase 

'Twas almost daylight He did yield,
As midnight approached upon the field 

So caught up was I, a starry-eyed tripper,
That I fell right into the Little Dipper 

Here, where stellar kisses come to pass,
Here, where such things could ever amass

One could find love, one could find fear,
One could find another, oh so dear

Under the spell of His lunar tune,
Under the shine of the moon.

November

I do not regret when I park my vehicle out,
Mist cleanses each dust speck beyond any doubt;
My roses are laced with diamond-snow particles,
Snow has adorned also the forgotten old rusty sickles...
Anthodium’s heart stand covered by mist, yet,
Heart of humans, here, for plants, seem always so wet;
Sun flowers shrouded with naughty mist game,
Zinnias see to face the game of the nature same;
Maples! my friends! Your veins are white-filled!
Do you not feel, yet, emotionally thrilled?
I have not taken out my thinnest winter sheet so far,
Winter is begun now; will have to continue many a golf par...!



06 November 2022 
November Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh

Speak the Action Not the Words

Actions may speak louder than words 
but an action missed didn’t occur, 
if from start to finish 
it was never witnessed 
evidence is of the thinnest 
it’s you that did begin this
it’s just your word 
you making sound 
when you’re heard 
no truth is found 
nothing was noticed 
until they noticed you 
when you’re in focus 
saying words untrue 
you began this 
when you accused 
a disadvantage 
you will lose 
what they did 
they wouldn’t do 
you sound stupid 
no one’s amused 
so the interaction
their harmful action 
doesn’t factor 
or even matter 
you’re the trouble 
that their aware of 
the more you struggle 
the more you’re sweared off 
you are the victim 
shouting abuse 
you are inflicting 
bad attitude 
words are spoken 
truth sees a twist
the can is opened 
respond with a fist

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