Numerously Poems - Poems about Numerously

... "Motherland" The “Removed”, Charlestons across the keyboard, fingers have a personality and a mind of their own, don’t you agree? the stalwart mind converses wit......

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...Your soul is a song, Chorusing numerously. Your many lives but a melody, Resounding in your mind. Your soul, a channeling Of the sound of eternity. Your soul is music, So finely tuned. ......

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...Acknowledging the essence of near-death experience realistically through reading about its characteristics mindfully as regards presented historical reports numerously and research of its ......

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...I am a land called, “America”. I am called, “Educated”; a “Super Power”, but, I don’t feel “Super” or “Powerful”… I am drained. I wear the scars of human nature; ignorance and greed......

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...And there are not enough cubicles and grey paneling that sugar rock candy lights won’t cut the sapling eye from its still decline into Abyss. And there are not enough sad thoughts wars rapes t......

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...Apply the theory that god cease to exist. You as an unbeliever may resist in the belief that there is someone who is more intelligent than your comprehension of life itself. Let's imagine for a whi......

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...Death Horrible to think loss of life Once taking birth in beautiful earth Why think of lose gift of life! Studied being one sided and Trying to forget project of terrible death Why so h......

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...The time has come today where the lost sheep make their way Stuck amongst the decay not even knowing, there in it they lay That time has come today as you follow amongst that lost herd The time ha......

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...It began with a single flake of snow That fell upon my brow so gently down. Almost imperceptible, ever so Subtle and never making any sound. I love these silent tiny crystalline Flakes that no......

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...Where are your upstairs friends? The coffee break girls; Credit card tight, Newly coifed, Numerously heeled And Playing a little material bridge. Where are the elevator girls? Those check ......

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..."The Parnassian Hand" - A Poem by David Hart Five fingers hover over black print Apposed on a white sheet. Tan flesh, short cropped nails and Overlapping cuticles--an old hand-- A buxom hand--......

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...You not interested in knowing my mind, But your only keen attraction is on my external being. My interior is nothing you concern to know, So you gaze at physicality, And not at the comprehension ......

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