Pocketful Poems - Poems about Pocketful

They come with pockets full of sunshine, yellow pills like dying stars, scattered along Kensington’s broken spine— this avenue of hollow breaths and burnt-out dreams. Neon signs flicker in the fog of dusk, their glow mocking the dim light in glassy eyes sunk deep into faces carved by hunger and haze. Skin stretched thin over bones like plastic bags snagged on rusted fences. The streets...

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If you come to my occasion Maybe birthday or dedication You'll be to me like a red rag to a bull Asking for rice knowing the price of a bagful Our common and daily food Is becoming an august food Either our leaders aren't aware Or they just don't care This continuous bulging in the price of rice Coming from a government thought will...

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I have a pocket full of stardust, I am sprinkling all over you. My simple wish, so lovely, that all your dreams come true! When Sunday comes, I wish health and happiness,do a dance with you. Where the Light is sunny, bright and the sky is lapis blue! It really doesn't matter, what other folks think of you. You know who are...

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When I think of what to write often the ocean comes to mind Endless sea of pretty blue and stretched out horizon lines, impossibly flat Yet when I actually arrive it isn't the sea that my eyes take a liking too Rather it's just below the waves my mind does go... ...to the little trinkets beside my toes Fossils of sea creatures, alive one - and now, even...

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I’ve got a pocketful of dreams And very little else What I have I give to others And keep nothing to myself I spread myself too thin And tire myself out Many times I’ve been taken for granted Of that there is no doubt Polonius in Hamlet said “To thine own self be true” Why live all your life to please others When they don’t...

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I have a pocket Full of dreams that, I carry wherever I go I wonder what dreams I'll dream tonight for I never seem to know I closed my eyes to drift asleep as I reached in for a dream I grabbed one tight within my hand then, flying became the theme Now, I'm in a dream and flying and, this feeling of flight...

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Time seems an insidious beast, deceptive by nature, appears to promise so much by giving least. So, I got old, almost as if in an instant flash of lightening, one day I looked away, then looked back, so fast it was frightening. The future had arrived. Life is a gift that keeps on giving, but as time moves on you know...

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