Best Hidden Meaning Poems
inexplicable coincidences
mystic synchronicity
divinity at work
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on March 22, 2019 for contest WRITING CHALLENGE 4, MARCH 2019_KIMO sponsored by DEAR HEART - RANKED 2ND
Nature's grand language
Speaks of harmony and love
Ignoramus Man!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
30 May 2018
Shaft of a white plume
Lying dormant on the ground....
Who was the coward
Penned 13 July 2015
Dream given form
Miracles able to perform
Life is often like a storm
This transcends any storm
Genesis of the soul and mind
Able to leave all strife behind
To which all will bind
Yet it is unique to any other find
Existential equation is in control
Through abyss projecting the soul
Genesis is its goal
Combines divine earthly and transcends it all
i am a Close relative of the goose and duck.
You’ll find me protected, respected like royalty,
halos ripple around me, Gently gliding wings outstretched in a breeze,
loyal, I mate for life - no two Necks here, just us whoopers forever,
atop feathers for a pillow our clutches nestle, Envelope, warmed by us,
whether svan or schwan, we’re pen and cob To our cygnets and swanlings.
Being unable to speak,
even though all your head is fulfilled with are words,
is really painful.
The moment you try to give birth
to all the sentences that you have created,
but you cannot since they stuck in your throat
and refuse to go any further.
Pen. Paper.
The only way to make your words obey you,
the only way to let them free and avoid chocking.
Yet, who are you to be read ?
Your poems will not speak your mind,
they will barely murmur them.
So you start to behave like a pathetic beggar,
showing somebody else’s words
on the screen, on the radio, in books.
Humbly hoping that they will see you,
hear your silent whisper
-that is me, that is what I am.
So naive and illusive.
They are as blind and deaf as you are mute.
Flowers are pretty,beautiful but witty some are one-of-a-kind yet some are here every day and we don't even know their names.
We judge their appearances but don't really know them when will be break free from the curse of pain.
Things are so unpredictable that we should cherish what we have. Feeling the pain of the past hurts but the present pain should be motivation he's even though it hurts.
Pushing through cause there is something,someone out there for you.
Politics is like an abstract painting
Difficult to understand
A lot of symbols
A lot of representatives
A lot of metaphors
A lot of hidden meanings
A lot of colours
Attracting but blinding the eyes
Too simple to the eyes
But too complex to the minds
What's seen by the eyes
What's heard by the ears
During canvassing may not be true
We may be cheated and tricked
Like dogs
As some people rear dogs
Some people eat dogs
How do you write so fast he asked her
Meaning why do you think you’re smart?
Foreseeing a mini-disaster
She asked him about his own perceived art
A poem where each line starts with care,
Crafting words with purpose, rare.
Revealing truths or hidden lore,
On every line, there's something more.
Stories told with letters bold,
Tangled thoughts in form unfold.
In every phrase, a secret's found,
Carefully woven, letter-bound.
Lost in the mist, isle of the empty
Thoughtless abyss styled under six feet
Reminiscing below the dark palm trees
The moonlight over the horizon fog
Unseeable, a thousand eyes abroad
Repeatable mistakes inside the smog
A longship drops anchor swords drawn in hand
The sands quake with danger, fear intwine with man
Death is a painter, and life weaves it's plans
Poetic justice, for those trapped in lies
Rehabilitate, prisoners of mind
What do angels taste when faced with divine?
Finding acceptance within heart and soul
All embellished to let go of control