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Poems About: IRONY

In this page, poems on / about “irony” are listed.

  • 361.

    I saw the stars fading in the smoke..
    Smoke that emanated from my heart,
    Or was that from my mild Cigar
    Or was it a misty wintry night read more »

    Shivani Agarwal
  • 362.
    How It Works For Irony

    As simple words
    pole-danced in smoke,
    false hopes blear
    under risque lights read more »

    Norman Santos
  • 363.
    that sadness that irony and that waste

    i still have
    Papa's picture
    when he was old
    and sickly read more »

  • 364.
    Am Fr

    from Actinides one may be
    Alkali Metal is she?
    yet if americium was called thee
    then francium's where to see? read more »

    Avery Eglantine
  • 365.
    Birdy, Confusions and Hanging On To Life

    Last bird flew
    The wind blew
    Rather it roared
    Tall wall had a monster? read more »

    Haldun Unal
  • 366.
    Swansong of A New Year

    Whilst the world
    rejoiced with fake stars
    and the carousers
    spun in loud noises; read more »

    Norman Santos
  • 367.

    'I don't know anything about it'
    'I've never studied it'
    'I know what I like & know when i C it' read more »

    John Kielmeyer
  • 368.
    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
  • 369.
    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
  • 370.
    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
  • 371.
    Telephone Conversation

    Wednesday, January 23,2008
    Week 10: Telephone Conversation by Wole Soyinka read more »

    tamilarasi shalu
  • 372.
    What Irony

    What irony-
    tells both the sweetest
    and most melancholic stories... read more »

    Kathy Dove
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