rhyming
Learn more about other poetry terms
If our bodies are laid beneath the earth, when our spirit transcends.
What will I look like in heaven,
when my life ends?
Life is a mystery,
mixed with misunderstood energies,
a fluorescent whirl wind.
Love is blind when you don't really know what it is.A beautiful bliss,Or is that just a myth?When you've truly found your person, What a gift.It's a reciprocal language but,
thank the moon
for being my company tonight
maybe think I'll be fine soon
thank the sky
for crying with me tonight
maybe think I'll finally say goodbye
A time or two they had rolled under the bed,
through the closets, around in my head.
Tired and worn, they had seen so much.
Pain, hurt, love, friendship and such.
A time had come to put them to rest,
I want you to know that even though you're away, not a minute passes that I don't think of my Bae
I love every part of you and I don't just mean aesthetically, although, of course, you're gifted genetically.
I can’t tell if I’m really trying anymore
I feel like every inch of my brain is just sore
Or maybe it’s my heart that lacks motivation
He just seems to be there in every situation
I love rhyming
I do it all day long
Whenever I start rhyming
I want to sing a melody
I love rhyming
It’s all that I can do
Lipstick stains on a collar,Wine stains on her Sunday best,They teach it’s the blood of her LordSo she counts herself as blessed.
Greetings, wondrous world of mine
I hope that you are doing fine
I know I'm not, but that's okay
That's not why I write today
I'd like to speak of those less known
The pulse meant you were alive,rocking back and forth, i cried last night,something about how difficult life was, saying we had the same conversation a million fucking times,
On a quite curious day, certain events were set into motion.
Seven young men sailed out on the ocean.
And to their dismay
A beautiful, cursed maiden joined on the way.
Every man entranced by her beauty
I'm trying to write down these thoughts but the pencils break
and all i'm looking at is a blank page
My mind screams at me to listen
Everyone else tells me to forget
Then the man beckons me closer
There is a world
Where I was from
Full of black, and white, and grey.
But then I saw
A silver line
Come through on misty day.
It's hard like steal,
But small and light
The floods push and coax
others just go with the flow.
But not I.
Sometimes I drift towards shore,
I prefer swimming straight for the shore,
And then, I'm in another place.
No swimming with routine,
5th grade, yellow pencils out
Another lesson to forget
“Tomorrow is mother’s day!”
Do you remember anything?
I don’t remember much
But I do remember 2008’s May
i’m becoming what i hate
i’m becoming who i fear
hanging on another day
holding out another year
so three cheers for self improvement
Without words, our world would be so blurred and absurd. For ages, I have tried to look up the pages to why words are so outrageous and contagious. If I ponder a little longer I can conclude that words are stronger than any monster.
Every text that I got
Every vibration I felt
About you is what I thought
& my heart just melt
The second I saw, it's not you,
my mind just blew.
I cannot stop thinking about you.
I entered many poetry competitionsStill never won a medal or suchThey all commented back to meAnd tell me I lost since I rhyme too much Many competitions still are pretty discriminateNot by race but definitely on how I writeBut I'm not giving up o
A notebook. A pen. Swirling thoughts raced inside my head. Biting lips. Darting eyes. My emotions were in disguise. Overwhelmed? Yes that’s true. It left me with only one thing to do.
All I Need
If I were on an island, lost and alone,
What would I need to make this strange place home?
Some might say a cellphone, books, or ropes
But I know what I would need the most.
by A. Gagliardi
I wanted the moon to fill up the night
like a presence we couldn’t ignore,
to shine bright as day in the dark quiet air
like’s been told in stories of yore.
Though I am sick, and I am scared
I know my heart must be repaired
I need to see the world once more
A simple chance that I ask for
melody so sweet calling me softly
like a siren luring to beauty so lightly
loveliness yours i long to never part
for i fear that would break my gentle heart
Tell me, brother, what do I do with a broken soul?
Tell me, sister, why is sadness all I know?
Tell me, father, why do I feel so alone?
Tell me, mother, how do I make a frail heart whole?
A poem
I’m writing this poem
But the absence in my mind
Is making it hard to find
The words I need to write
This poem
If I were left on an island alone,
I would miss all the comforts of home.
I couldn't decide what one thing to bring,
An object to help me through this horrible thing.
I could pick some tarp to cover my head,
Pretty Little Lady,
with your roses and your scars,
Pretty Little Lady,
with your eyes as bright as stars,
Pretty Little Lady,
with your bruises and your laugh,
Pretty Little Lady,
If you looked for my name on the front of a book,
I don’t think you’d bat an eye,
For my story would be just words on a page,
All meaningless words floating by,
I feel so alive in my chimerical head,Lying here in my past, not yet left for dead.I’ve gone places near in a cartographer’s words,But light years away, ‘twixt fire-winged birds.
To have our lips grow closer and then touch,
so we may feel each other.
(A prerequisite to tasting,
a sea turtle is hurrying,
hurrying to the sea,
it takes no notice of a land creature like me,
it came ashore,
the night before,
and dropped a thousand gleaming jewels,
it buried them deep,
Upon the shallow shores lay I
No, not sleeping,
Merely dreaming,
Possibly scheming,
Barely breathing
In the salty ocean air.
My face is upturned to the sky
Eyes blinking,
"Poems should rhyme,
all of the time"
Isn't that just the cheesiest line?
Dr. Seuss, boy he was great,
and I don't think even I could debate
That a rhyme made his poems even more special
Before I get as cold as stone,Before I finally die,Before I rest my weary bones,Please sing a lullaby.I've never heard one before;I don't know how they go,But 'fore I leave forevermore
It's hard to gather rosebuds with a dreadful fear of thorns;It's hard to share one's fondness with a fear of lover's scorn.So as one gathers rosebuds with a thick and rugged glove,
I met her by the seasideAlmost in a tranceAs sunshine shone upon herAnd skipping waves did dance.She called me with a whisperThrough the ocean air,But as I did approach her
I dreamt of clouds in skies of blueWith crimson streaks of light,And all around there was the soundOf laughter and delight.Where worries were a memoryForgotten long ago,
On shining lights in velvet nightsI hung my hopes with silver stringAs whispered words I overheardRebounded in my rotting brain.
The rhythm that moves you,
The words that persuade,
The feelings and emotions
That make you afraid.
Let them all go,
They have nowhere to hide,
They might as well flow,
It’s funny to think things very unfunny
Since funny is all things can be.
Seriousness is perhaps
The most funny thing to me.
You might leave your lips un-curled,
Your eyelids may sag unamused,
This house is quiet for it knows
The little horrors it’s seen the lows
Although there are some happy days
There are more memories that curl the toes
The little girl stops and lays
Excellent
Monster
Boy
Assesses
Random
Radioactive
Asphalt.
Serious
Salmonella
Eerily
Declassified.
To this acrostic, do not pay any mind,
My tongue it twists, it curls, it bends
it licks my lips, my throat defends.
It also tastes, a noble job,
though biting it will make him throb.
When I think about my skin
The trouble it has got me in
The things it said were good to do
The things that it has put me through
Unrequited feelings may seem like the end of the world
a B may seem to taint my report card
a fear may seem to become reality
and life just may seem too hard
Let it go is I what I say
He stands to read.
He takes a deep breath.
Looks over the page.
Why does "boat" have to match with "moat" or "float" or "dote"?
He can speak it straight up but he has to write it lyrically.
My name's Sam.Hope you got the telegram,cuz if you didn't Ima shoot you up like "Muthafucka blam!"Just kidding, Ma'am.That's not the kinda man I am.I'm actually Mexican, not Mediterraneanand I don't eat lamb.Don't even think about bringing upgreen
I could paint you a portrait. But I'd
Rather hand you this photograph.
I was only seventeen. She was my temptation
On my heart you'll spot her autograph
Decorated with Love and a lot of laughs
Emotions swirl in my head like a never ending stom cloud overhead. I'm sad, happy, mad, humbled and so many others as life's accomplishments and defeats pass threw like rain.
I write because it free's me, from all the pain and agony that's concealed deep inside of me. I write because that's how people listen to me not physically but emotionally.
Will you still love me when my locks have turned gray
My dark skin losing texture inevitable as my ashes to one day fly with jays
As the ticks of the clock refuse to stop you'll join me one day
Why I write
To let the pain all out
The sleepless nights when I wasn't thought about
Kick off the pedal stool when I had something to say
Made fun of because what I wore that day
time stands still as I take a seat
as I feel my hands shaking
the passion running through me
my heart is racing
this simple thought in creation
this never ending tune
this pattern
this urge
The words swim through my mind.
They flutter like butterflies in the wind
Then crumble like the ashes of a fire.
A beautifully worded line
Falls apart, rewritten and thinned
Destroyed in an inky funeral pyre.
I find no need for the slant.
The ones on the end -- they bother me the most.
I guess I can tolerate the internal.
I can't even begin to fathom the rich.
Identicals... can you even call yourself one?
For my loving heart began to open just as the petals
Awaiting for a bee to come and find me
Alas, the buzzing ceased but a
lonely caterpillar came to thee
