Poems About: IRONY
Poems on / about :
- carpe diem
Can you imagine the irony of me
Running after you and the struggle
To get upper hand in the scuffle
You give in most just for the record - read more »Doris Cornago
350.Ode To The Withered Tree
Consequence of the season
Hath deprived thee thy extravagance
And made you frozen
To doubt your stance read more »pere isaac afezu
351.I Pride Myself That In Poetry
I pride myself that I am in Poetry
Telling my own inner Truth- read more »Shalom Freedman
352.Ethan (No Knee)
Ethan joined the army,
He shot people with glee,
but alas, one day,
Ethan lost his knee! read more »Alexander Hovanec
Sensing ivories within, delicately touching their feelings,
jostling words to fit their descriptions of melodies as
they play intently and joyfully in harmony with intellectual
ironies and factual tunes of creativeness. read more »RoseAnn V. Shawiak
354.Progress made in India
Progress oft has irony of its own,
A man born free and raised by the pavement,
Moves on when to slums on rental payment,
Ridicule wrapped in mockery unknown! read more »Aniruddha Pathak
My meeting you was destiny
Although it seemed one of irony
During the early days of tyranny
My eyes always did you scrutiny read more »Rizni Ahamed
It's the little things we miss
The drops of rain
Small moments of bliss
The poet's need for pain read more »Ula Goss
357.Song: Spell Out The Blues
There's no-one who's better,
Better than you!
No ruthless go-getter,
With the dumb luck of youth. read more »David SmithWhite
358.Every Single Sound I Listen To; Patience.
Asphyxiated with filthy airs and warmth.
Not knowing and unable to recognize freshness no longer.
Every single day and night..
Smothered by pungent consisting filth and warmth. read more »NurWilmy Francis
359.The Magenta Agenda
The magenta agenda embedded upon a silk prison is a mirror illuminating synaesthesias.
Depth imperative, a lever of emotion eminence. For what is a prison? Doth it make me in sync with my sins? Mere society’s ills... See not the irony, hear not the irony, feel not the irony for in confinement with I the sinned comes forth spiritual compassion, material detachment; alleviation in passion. Yet I feel still of nothing, for I put myself in everything but something.
The magenta agenda is incense to the eyes intriguing dimensions in its absence of time. It impedes deep, moonstruck, capricious droplets rapturously stagnant, romantic in its flourish as it blossoms intense, rained from the beige walls the mind melted on its silky delicate milky skin. read more »Ori Livson
Wednesday, January 23,2008
Week 10: Telephone Conversation by Wole Soyinka read more »tamilarasi shalu