Flow Out Poems - Poems about Flow Out

Whispering sweet desires in tears that flow like honey through the shattered soul

Whispering sweet desires in tears that flow like honey through the shattered soul,
Giggling, we forget if we laugh or cry in this dance of sacred madness,
The sweet navel of the world tastes so good when the tongue of memories touches it,
How do these fragile and eternal moments lead us directly into the heart of this

OF LIFE AND DEATH TODAY: A 5-7-5-7-7-7-5-7-5-7 FLOW

OF LIFE AND DEATH TODAY: A 5-7-5-7-7-7-5-7-5-7 FLOW
(Apropos Of An Ironic Juxtaposed Reality)

Ironically,
it’s cheaper to live than die:
Save, self-cremation:-
Even then, you must pay for
The ashes to be cleaned up:-
And don’t forget, the family
Is charged to pay off all debts
That you may have left behind:-
Ironically,
We are born to live and die,
Life, being cheaper:
Funerals are expensive!

In the depths of silence, thoughts flow like underground rivers

In the depths of silence, thoughts flow like underground rivers,
where the moonlight stops to rest its weary wings,
and time seems an illusion, a grain of sand lost in the hourglass of eternity,
here, in the heart of silence, the thoughtful man crafts his own universe.
There is no rest for the thinker, only endless journeys,
among the shadows

Rhythm of a River

Smooth moves
rivers perform
with intuitive flow.
Even when storms cause them to churn,
their God bequeathed responses are right on.
Not so, emotions in my heart,
besieging my faith's hold.
My needs pursue
smooth flows.

Going With The Flow

Some thoughts on the subject of going with the flow.
Some different viewpoints that you may want to know.
Don’t fight against the current it knows where it should go.
It avoids the obstacles dashing to and fro.

How should we see a person going with the flow?
They may be seen as lazy or even just slow.
Pitching the oars

In the mystery of the unknown, where thoughts flow like a river

In the mystery of the unknown, where thoughts flow like a river,
my being seeks innocence, unknown even to myself,
I am free, at last, to be silent, to bathe
in the quiet of your promise of promises,
like the pear tree in the garden, which feels beauty,
but never asks why such splendor is here.
On monsoon days, full of

In the silence of the night, words flow like a river of deep longing

In the silence of the night, words flow like a river of deep longing,
She said it's just a poem, left on the windowsill to tremble in the wind,
The ink is wet, uncried tears, a silent call,
Her vulnerability, like a secret that cannot be told.
I felt the chill when the sun set behind her,
Her silhouette bare

In the infinite cosmic silence, rivers of boundless thoughts flow

In the infinite cosmic silence, rivers of boundless thoughts flow,
We lose ourselves in waves of illusions, calling forth the shadows of past time,
We are but a dream floating on the eternal ocean of pure being,
In the depths of the soul, there is no separation, only eternal flow,
Everything is now and here, a dance of the

Flow Casual

A swirl of color,
that spoon's stirring casual.
Tidal rotation,
moon drunk on a tie-dyed sky.
Easygoing, just flow slow.

On the edge of time, I stand and watch how the shadows of dreams flow

On the edge of time, I stand and watch how the shadows of dreams flow,
people carry their burdens like stars fallen from the heavens,
unraveling into the sea of endless, unanswered questions,
and I wonder if hope is just an illusion woven from broken desires.
What is life, if not a dance of contrasts, a play of shadows

Follow the flow of the Tees

Follow the flow of the Tees
Meet the folk whose sweat
and tears shaped the land,
brought in the bounty,
shifted the steel to build
Better places.

Follow the flow of the Tees.
Meet the people who fish
in peace.  Look for a seal or two.
See them bobbing, watching you
watching them.  Observe them catching the 
rays of the sun on the

In the depths of the evening, where thoughts flow like rivers of trembling light

In the depths of the evening, where thoughts flow like rivers of trembling light,
the sky stretches its amber arms, embracing silence in cloaks of dreams,
and my steps are echoes of falling stars, dancing on carpets of time,
for to be deciphered means to scatter your essence into unknown winds.
I prefer to be a floating illusion on

Wordless Peace

The river moves but never dies,
It carries all it cannot keep.
Beneath its glass, the silence lies,
A cradle where the old dreams sleep.

I watch it wind through stone and silt,
A silver ribbon pulled by time.
It bears the weight of love and guilt,
And every joy we failed to climb.

I see my face in trembling glass,
A thousand selves

Let the Streets Flow with Blood

     Advocate of rent control and $30 minimum wage
     Free public transportation! Zohran Mamdani’s a media-appointed Sage

         For all illegal immigrants, full privileges and rights
         Defund the police, let NYC’s streets

A CAPITALISTIC PERSPECTIVE ON WAR: A TANKA QUINTET FLOW

Bombs begetting bombs, 
War mongers are safe and sound;
Others being bombed:
The bombing of others reaps
Bloody power over them

No matter who dies,
Nuclear war bombing pays off;
Bombs begetting bombs:
Millions spent creating bombs;
Trillions reaped from their bombings:-

War is a business,
Nuclear bombs produced and sold;
Low cost drones offered:-
War is for power;
So is capitalism:-

Just do the homework:
Democracy is one thing;
Power

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