Anon Poems - Poems about Anon

Ever And Anon

i admit, i am...

shhhh!
p  l  e  a  s  e
do not tell a soul this, 
but...
ever and anon
yes, i am indeed
    so afraid...
       of myself 
when the brightest of lights
       go 
    

Anon

Anon and so on
From this moment I declare
A feathered thought of promise
Through eyes of a loving stare

ANON

ANON

Come on now, you know who you are
A good online poet with verses a-plenty
Wowing everyone, even the cognoscenti
With rhyme, metaphor and fine imagery
Many admirers, as we think you’re a star

It is clear, as a poet, you are committed
All those works that you decide to enter
And never bland nor beige, like polenta
However you may choose to

Shadows 'Agear' Shattered Anon

It was not only the losers that were staging a hasty exodus around the airport.Largely outnumbering them were native frantic runaways.

Like goaded gazelles, pell-mell, they yelled at hell 
where only disaster and despair could leap to a fare-thee-well.  
Panic and pang made them recklessly swarm and stampede
in a struggle to flee from the land

Anon

ANON

“What shall I write about today?”
The ancient poet said.
“Something that will make me famous,
Long after I am dead.”
Alas, the chance of that was slim.
Nobody’s ever heard of him

15 June 2021
Bite Size Poem No. 13 contest
Sponsor - Line Gauthier

Anon Under the Gun

Just or unjust, they do as they must
The secretive sect of ANON
They live in a world, where truths are unfurled 
Where justice is served, not undone
Just kids on a quest, to make their world the best 
A time for renewal has come
Born out of sedition, in an act of contrition 
In a world living under

Anew and Anon

Spring, ripe and dulcet 
usher for the vines 
of mellow orchard 
green leaf perch bird chime   
thaws a winter gloom
         
Bane of snowbound
cladding doused in
red sunlight rays
sea salt tides rise
               

Anon

With not a single hobby, 
and precious few friends, 
Time has too much time on its hands. 

For its appointments it arrives early,
always much too early. 

I wasn’t halfway through February, 
when, on my doorstep,
who else appeared but May in a hurry?

Paradox Anon

Banksy and Bilston
unknown for our sins
in The Age of Celeb,
anonymous wins

S. O. Fasrus

Merciful Deceased Mother Father Twill See Thee Anon

Merciful Deceased Mother - Father T'will See Thee Anon

Atheism underscores bedrock
schema Holy Toledo
encompassing mine secular humanistic credo
simultaneously tricking elusive illusion, sans
supernal radiant quintessence

blasting damn ming the torpedo
didst alight kindle linkedin skepticism,
asper this son kissed faith no more,
(nor e'er didst I believe)
with irrefutably blinding albedo.

Though both parents
predecessors theology, included prayer
purportedly distilled within
Eastern European Jewry, where
without bonafied

Anon

No name
Simply same
Buoyant blame


Sweet say
Dreamy day
Puzzling play


Sweet still
Wonder wills
Pleasure pill


Watch wake
Steady sake
Mindful make


Love lines
Vibrant vines
Mulling mines


Sense speaks
Primal peak
Laughter leaks


Last light
Succinct sight
Funny flight




Leon Enriquez
22 November 2018
Singapore

Anon

Buried alive in a tomb,
Wreaking havoc on my mother’s womb,
Stiffened by emotion and a dwindling spirit,
Screaming my lungs exhausted with no one to hear it,
Self pity and inexhaustible shame,
Dare I utter mine own name?
Alive, Alive is but a word,
Uttered in a tomb, its echoing laugh is absurd,
My perspectives have darken, my outlook bleak,
My tongue grows

Anon

a pleasure without guilt
or guilty without pleasure
our life is hardly built
by any other measure

we live a way we wanted to
to find some joy of time
to want to see what we can do
at least we're so inclined

yet hold on dear to what we jilt
as mindful we cast aside
evaporate our love to wilt
what we say we most

Anon (2000)

Aries child.
Set to burn.
Undressed,
Revealed. 
Stuck constant, 
Like stars.
Placed in blue, 
Deeper shades.
Exposed, 
Alone,
Afraid.
Lost in poetry.
Spoken in verse.
Broken heart, 
Was mine.
Lost in space.
Dark ,
Sealed.
Only comfort;
Being unknown.

Anon

Your name follows me 
and the ghost of your presence is haunting
The touch of your fingers is lingering 
and I only want you to be
Alongside me anon.
I have no patience for you 
as it’s not in my nature or soul
And yet your illusiveness takes it’s toll
Have you come to think it too
Be alongside me anon.
I’m

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