Cracking Poems - Poems about Cracking

Cracking Glass Your mind fills like a glass Always taking never ask Never asking questions and never drawing lines Never turning forwards, just staring far behind You crack and break and bend and press You chase and burn and scratch but yet Walls crumble and never stand They’re built of rubble and pure clear sand You’re pushing and you’re turning Clear as shiny day You’re shoving...

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password to open the heart forgotten we wandered earth like a deluded ghost then one day we became a child again meaning innocence was then soul’s outpost cleansed of stain, we broke free from ego’s chain reclaiming light by God’s love begotten...

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Sometimes life can be peaceful And Sometimes it can be quite You can even hear the needle drop What is so funny? Sometimes life can be full of drama And Sometimes it can be stressful When is this pot getting hot? The bomb has exploded, As the seas collide And the tree bears its fruit The world is watching As the...

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it had been a miserable place in his heart disconnected the body mind and soul wandered in a straightjacket of bedlam insanity depression and misgivings firmly rooted in a lonely Self abandoned by madness and despair a crack is where the light gets in once the solar eclipse fissures its own crevice down to the core separated and broken he prayed for a shift in...

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RUNNING RACES CRACKING CODES No disgruntled dissonance between dimensions sliding down sigils galaxies of glories listening to lilies lyricing to Lilith flow of filaments consenting to classify eyes like echoes running races cracking codes so that Source can claim His-Her crystals into 5D carols ©GhairoDanielsPoetry& Song2024 ...

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Accepting omnipresence of boundless space and fixating our attention upon it, we notice that from its pores in-pours God’s grace, recalibrating consciousness bit by bit, as our steps to heaven we slowly retrace, requiring lamp of love in heart to be lit. Silence, stillness and total thought cessation, pierces the veil of space in meditation....

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Twirled about by desire and fear, saw thought apparitions appear, with the aim to drive us insane, binding us in attachment’s chain, blocking God’s light from drawing near....

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Here she is Her smile as if painted on Shining, eye catching Her shell cracking Breaking, snapping Slowly revealing the true little clown Oh, my silly little fool No amount of pain or porcelain could hide something as hideous as you Oh, now don’t weep Don’t fret After all, the show isn’t over yet....

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You tell me to stop How can I When the porcelain play never stops It has to keep going For the crowd Yet, the cracks... They are slowly taking over Slowly breaking my so carefully built play my life my happiness The cracks get bigger, can they see? no amount of joy can seal them now. The crowd, it laughs. I'm glad. They don't...

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cracking the quiet space, toddler with seeds feeds ostrich through car’s window, giggles with jocund joy 8/20/2022...

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The poets talk of love. Do you think they know What it means? A shimmering dream Of sunlit grassy fields? (So they say) Or an endless stream Of wet dreams? Holding hands in a cinema You watch translucent transcendent lovers Kissing by a fountain in the park. You caress in the dark The sweaty, stubby fingers of another, Of your lover (So you say). Still, I am no poet I cannot...

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She’d pull her hair, mean as a rhinoceros. But I do care, though she skipped school on that fateful final day of her life on earth. Funny how I did not know about it. Until yesterday I’d have thought she lived, waiting to die like the rest of us, one day. I cracked open the box to grab the handful of group’d...

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We always keep the windows cracked To get a little air. Of course, we may then be attacked By winter’s frigid fare. But that’s okay – some extra clothes Provide a counter point So we will never, I suppose, Be very out of joint. Apartments get a lot of heat Which often seems extreme, Though window-cracking helps us beat The dominance of steam....

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Clatter claws cascade downward into listening drums. Pigeons are the worst. Rose bushes sit quietly all summer then only after they have lost their heads do they scratch and squark nightly. Toilets that are not in your home haunt and taunt. Dry joints crunch down - listening synovial cartilages stick shift and slip out of gear. There is the jack-hammer...

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I hear Oregon banned smoking ~ though I'm a little hazy on that...

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