Belongs Poems - Poems about Belongs

I wake, I breathe, I move, I fade, A specter stitched from a torn-out page. A thing that walks but leaves no trace, A mouth that speaks, but not a face. I press my hands to solid skin, Feel the warmth, the pulse within. It beats, it drums, it hums, it sways— But it is borrowed. Not mine—not mine. I wear a voice...

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If I can hear a seed sprout, See therein spread of a tree, Hear a bud blossoming, Can a fruit too therein see, See in life eternal youth, Can see Him behind all this In all His manifoldness, Unto me belongs the Truth, Unto me and those like me That see beyond ‘me and mine’. ___________________ Musings |01.12.2024| Truth, nature,...

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Do you move in pack? People does!... People of the same interest Same religion Many by societal Others by muse Everyone belongs to a group Knowingly or unknowingly. Even lions and wolves Moves in pack Supporting each other Hunting another While protecting one and another Against external forces Fiercely and fearlessly from time to time. People come together For a common goal Either for good or evil...

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We were two pathetic fools who believed in fables, but our fable wasn't real; oh, can these deep wounds heal? We thought everything would be really fine, we didn't have a plan, we weren't that wise; nothing belongs to us, not even memories, nothing belongs to us, and we regret all lies! We burned kisses one August night, hot was the fire; now, we...

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my sea it belongs to me and my boat i float clarity of sealife wee bit of strife this byzantine ocean crystalline of emotion sand slips as hourglass scripts i love the tug time’s tender hug riveting the boat pivoting as I change roles and slip into soles souls of the long moon in sway and swoon what’s underneath the soulful wreath victory, how long is life what portion of me, a wife a mother, a sister,...

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They say the journey to adulthood is supposed to be a slow coming of age process that allows the time to contemplate what role we’ll play in our future. We check off all the options. Burn out some brain cells in college or maybe find that ‘special someone’ and take a few years to plan...

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"You're gonna face trouble if Navalny dies in prison, 2021"—President Biden Martyr & Saint 1976-2024 By tempting fate, speaking truth to power, he languished in icy confinement This courageous proud Russian was a bold soul of staunch refinement This tormented martyr, and prophetic sage, silenced and confined to a cage Continued to fight his tenacious battle, while we heeded his words...

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Who belongs where, And who owns what? The answer depends on how far back you go, And who you talk to, To justify your view. It used to be there were places, That were still open spaces, We could drive those who we thought unworthy of occupying places, Anywhere near our faces. Now there are people in those places, In those spaces, Who object to all...

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All praise belongs to Christ Jesus             All praise belongs to the Lord         Let us share peace and love friends ...

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There is a river flowing deep inside of me there is a river flowing deep inside of you Take us both through that prosperous journey and be true for deep within your soul and mine is a river that flows freely; The cadence of your heart is a jewel to your name the lanterns of ...

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At the gates of heaven, Ras-Putin went But he was told paradise couldn't ascent For with the angels he couldn't go along Thus people like him to hell they belong! © Demetrios Trifiatis 22 March 2022 - Defend Ukraine! Defend Peace! Defend the world!...

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Mountain is where my soul belongs, Biking around with soothing songs. It’s a better place to live, With pretty views and nothing to give. Nothing to worry about, Going where takes you the route. Snow falling onto your hair, Purity in the heart and air. Walking across the streets, Where the rivers meet....

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With powers vying to have us ruled The lull of liberty has us fooled The rich and mighty sweep it all And callused hands are rarely jewelled...

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Walking home I kick the stones. I kick the dirt as well. Today a life changed but not for me, for someone, someone else. I see the birds fly into the tree, I listen to their songs. I see the children play in the street and pray that they all one day find true love. The world plays...

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Every poem keeps in itself chills, panic attacks, spasms of surprise and ecstasy divine... Every poem is almost scripted to decipher signs by erasing the silence and revealing mysteries... The poem exalts the salt and the sweet of life... belongs to everyone, those who write and those who read it... !...

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