Beneath Poems - Poems about Beneath

Bejeweled flyers chatting away merrily singing harmony to a silent sentient God Maybe they're trapped in indigo agony shaking our toxins from their beaks. What do they think of the awkward rock beneath them... Maybe they're conspiring to murder me. ...

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Beneath the GODFORSAKEN gate, the wind is low, It hums through iron teeth, a GROANING chord. The past returns in whispers cold and slow— A GHOSTLY dirge no mortal could afford. Its hinges hold the weight of GRAVE goodbyes, Where time forgets to heal the GRIEF-STRICKEN soul. Through GOSSAMER regrets, the daylight dies, And shadows learn to make the broken whole. No lock...

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They said she imagined it– that flicker in her spine, like a vow whispered between the bones, a hush older than memory. no temple, no mantra, no saint's breath on her shoulder– just a silence that split her softly like dawn splits shadow. something rose– not seen, but felt, like a secret carried from life to life, finally unfolding. it wasn't light, not yet it was heat that knew her name. each...

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At midnight, deep beneath D.C.'s pride, A tunnel breathed secrets the daylight hides. Pennsylvania Avenue—so clean, so grand— But under its bones lies a cursed land. Dark suits walk halls soaked in red, A velvet silence where the truth lies dead. The walls pulse with symbols from ages old, Carved by hands both cruel and cold. Fridges hum like funeral songs, Storing innocence stolen...

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A-ll G-races N-ever E-vade S-unset, T-hough O-ver R-uins, R-ays E-merge S-ublime ©bfa061825 Monocrostic (Birthday of Agnes Torres) ...

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The Sun forgot to rise one day, and never came again. The stars blinked out like dying sparks– the world went cold, and then... the silence grew, the stories died, and no one dared to dream. But deep beneath the weight of dark, inside a cave unknown,  one ember breathed–not bright, not bold, but fiercely on its own. It had the...

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In the howling wilderness, the path is lost beneath the fury of wild winds, The compass loses its meaning under the vast and empty sky, without stars to guide us, Our steps wander through the nameless realm, where echoes forget their words, Alone we walk through the wilderness of the heart, seeking traces of vanished dreams. The thorns of...

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At 10,911 meters beneath the Pacific veil, where no submarine dares dream, I descended into the throat of Earth— into the trench men call Mariana, but spirits call Theotokos. There, the water was not water— it was glass that hummed. The ocean floor rose like a palace, built of crystal bones and music stones— a cathedral of sound and secrets. They called it the House...

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-The Chalk Beneath My Fingernails- I walk a path where roads dissolve, Where rivers rise and hopes revolve, Through jungle mist and dusty lanes, With every step, I carry names— Of children born with hollow bowls, But eyes that shine like tempered coals. The schoolhouse leans against the sky, Its roof a patchwork, spirits high. The walls may crack, the floor may creak, But voices...

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For ten long years, I left no trace— No words, no cries, no names to blame. But now the silence stirs again, And finds its shape beneath the flame. They whispered truths that weren’t mine, And carved in air what never was. Not once they knocked, nor saw within— They spoke in masks, without a pause. Their eyes were fog, their voices sharp, Their...

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E-mergency R-esponse I-s K-indly A-ssisting R-ight U-nder A-tmospheric D-estructive O-nslaught ©bfa052625 Monocrostic (Birthday of Erika Ruado) ...

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One day, the mirror didn't show me my face, but a universe hidden beneath my eyelids, A version no one meets, a world of public smiles and hidden wounds, Held together by deep silences and storms of anger, a thousand unspoken words like lonely stars, The mirror didn't ask how I was, but painted my nights when I...

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She smiled, The kind that fits Like fine porcelain On polished shelves. She added the sugar, Asked about the day, But folded her voice Into careful pleats. No one noticed, The twitch in her hand, How the tea danced Before the quick sips. She laughed, But her breath shook, Like windows trembling Before the wind. Even the mirror, Cracked behind her veil Dared not speak Of the quiver it caught. She kept it hidden, Polished with...

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Beneath the warm sun, we wander through the tangled branches my grandfather's hands gentle, like the tree itself, rooted and wise He points to a ripe fig, its skin a the color of a jewel. I reach, as he coaches me ripe and unripe Conversation is exchanged his grumbly Italian voice echos like a simple song on the summer day He tells stories under the shade,...

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beneath the surface not a predator in sight fish enjoy the time ...

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