Pages Poems - Poems about Pages

R-eading E-very B-ook's E-ducational C-ontent C-learly A-dds B-rilliant U-nderstanding, E-nhancing R-eason A-nd N-ew O-utlook ©bfa060125 Monocrostic (Birthday of Rebecca Buerano)...

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Before midnight ticks, I turn to my interior world , One that cradles myrhh of reminisces and sagas, Allowing breaths to inhale the agony and radiance of loved ones' trails now beyond my physical reach-- Watching the decrepit portraits on the foyer, July air greets the dew on blossoms, monarchs flitting in my...

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As my words "cascade" off my tongue, onto the "myriad" of blank pages. Each letter will slowly "slither," slither into a "serpentine" of sentences. As I stop to read, will the pages "lilt" to me? With tired eyes I see a "nebula" bright night, as I look out my huge window at the "lunar" light....

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Pages turn, as new cycles start, Agree with our Maker, hear His heart. In our daily solitary space, Step beyond and hear the sound of the race. See anew, learn to relate afresh, If doubt remains, do not rush! Press in prayer, let persistent faith arise, And watch the impossible vaporize. Reposition our hearts, stride onwards ahead, Claim the inheritance for which we were...

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tuesday morning, pages 78 and 79 pulled back on the book i was reading as if its yawn was bigger than the one i had borrowed from you only an hour earlier we both laughed remembering the days when you touched one elbow to the other behind your back and challenged me knowing it would never happen it was raining when you left then looked...

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If you knew the weight I bear, You'd hear the screams beneath my stare. I light the dark yet feel so cold, Like a silent tale that's never told. Of shining silver and glittering gold, Of a burning past in letters bold. It has been long, it has been ages, since a soul has touched these unread pages....

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the pages of my diary hold the memories- memories of you being cold and warm, memories of that mysterious smirk, and the day you deserted me i unfurled the white flag and surrendered on my knees you started this war and kept on stabbing me this war is our love affair illicit from the moment it began yet, i believed in you and 'this love' still...

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i stitched my heart into quiet lines, shared them here one post at a time but this isn’t just a page it’s a place i begin a dream once whispered now asking for wings Friends! I've created an Instagram page and it's - almost.thirty.barely.grown I also have a GoFundMe going for my debut book which I will need help funding! I will share the link here,...

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I never reached out for your hand— Fingers interlacing, hearts intertwining. My words blistered on my tongue, And I tucked the unanswered glances Back into silence, Like love letters never sent. What do I do with the love I couldn't give? I'll bleed it onto blank white pages, Ink running from my arteries. My stanzas will contain The glory of my memories, And my metaphors...

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it must be so hard to be perfectly at peace but clear skins still scarred and perfect pages become creased...

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I slowly detach, like ink seeping onto pages of lost memories, like a song slowly fading from the mind that once swore it eternal, everything begins gently—your name on my lips becomes a foreign echo, your messages remain unread, not out of anger, but from fear of the unknown. You place silence where questions once were, perhaps you don't...

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I don't leave all at once, but slip away like ink running off old pages, Like a song you swore you'd never forget, until you do. It starts small—your name becomes foreign on my lips, Your messages remain unread, not out of anger, but from a strange helplessness. You don't ask why, maybe you don't notice, or maybe you...

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Frozen flames hide between the pages of every forgotten memory, I leaf through them like a treasure seeker through silent sands, censoring events of the past like falling stars, I dive deep into the painting on the wall, a portal to another world, each blink feels like an eternal echo of unwritten love, yet on that mysterious night, I found...

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I do not search in the written pages of love, nor in the films dancing on screens, not that I bear any hidden burden against the longing that illuminates souls, even I, a traveler through the world's dreams, know that love is life's most beautiful gift. But perhaps I was not meant to be the hero of my...

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Christ said Judge and condemn not But people do too much For us to remain silent The truth is hard to say It's also hard to swallow. Now ponder You might wonder Your perception A reflection of you Do you know the meaning of life? Everyone with different story or meaning I guess none knows the meaning of life. What are...

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