Poem Poems - Poems about Poem

Like a work of art, Formed from thought, Detailed with steez, Classic in taste, elegant in style A design by The Architect. In the eighth month, Infinity ?? stands Not just to mark the month, But to align with the day: 8/8 - Eight, Zero, Eight. The hands of the Maker Reflect His image On the mold He shaped with passion. Not merely a symbol, But a living entity...

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it’s still brick ...

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If I were a poem metaphoric words would dance in synchronicity, similes would waltz the frown from off my face. If I were a poem I'd wrap sonnets around you, Like tourniquet stanzas healing chapters in verse. If I were a poem cliches would clash with unwritten rules, words would not rhyme and dear diary would not exist. If I were a poem gone would be the...

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in the foundry ...

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Praise Jesus Christ! Who died on the Cross; Without Thy great Sacrifice We would all be lost. From birth until death You lived on this earth; Enduring our suffering To prove Love's worth Though the sinners were many, And the darkness was great; You died to forgive us, To open Heaven's Gates. Not three days passed And You continued Your Plan. Freed the souls of...

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Two diverse paths lay, The rough path tell the tales Tales of what lays ahead The smooth path tells no tales Both lead to same destination Our choice stared at us The heart seeks honour Rough path they thread Their desire, they must not faint The cheers of their leader, Echoes through the lonely path The smooth path, leader thread, In honor, loyalty stand. “Aye, my enemy...

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… do you love me, woman it is cloudy in this street as that sandalwood perfume stretching between our arms here everything of it is gone with the floods and good you are the only tree left behind and love is the...

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It’s a place I feel off— not wedded to anything. Truculent. I think in riddles and answer in metaphors. I dance on my tiptoes— an adagio of agony. Passion pirouettes out of sight. Tethered. Bound by grief. Temptation forgotten, tempered. It no longer exists. It was a pas de deux, now it’s just a deuce— a petulant penitent, an unwanted pardon. The dancer stirs. The pulse quickens to a tango. Recalcitrant and longing. Unable to follow the...

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A Distant Shore Beached upon a distant shore I wondered about my life Beseeched by solitude all I could pour out was sadness & strife I reached for something in the distance that looked like it was a knife It taught me to be indifferent as I knew my thoughts were running rife Extending out with a...

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I want a lived-in face— a body that curves and stretches, each line a crease carved by laughter, grief, survival. I love life etched into skin. We are the narrators of our days, our bodies the pages, our faces the margins, annotated by time. We are art— life’s sculptures— one arm or two, too thin, too wide. What old lies we’ve swallowed about beauty’s mould. Perfection? That polished cage— stitched with...

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Target via advertising Stupid firms and stupid brands Because such generalizing Does require intercept For the influence of moron For the psyches thus offense Does perform defense the function Very real thus defense Maxwell color wheel invention Wasn't meant for purpose this Any act will have redemption Suck it activism for peace Hex my wheel is much more nicer Isn't purposed for the firms Neither chips or...

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I walked a quiet road at dusk, Where frost lay silver on the grass, And in the stillness, words I sought Some startled birds would rise and pass. They brushed my cheek, they touched my hair, Then vanished into fading blue; I thought of you, old friend of snow, Who spoke to silence, stern and true. Your lines were fences in the mist, Your...

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To write a poem is to commune with oneself To share it is to let go ...

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A student who hailed from Bombay Eats curry for breakfast each day On pakora he’d munch As a snack or for lunch The toilet is where he must stay He suffers from dire 'Dheli belly' Shared bathroom got terribly smelly So he leased a commode Where he’ll unleash his load No studies, he poops watching telly! His flatmate said, “Listen up Josh” Your ling’ring stench means...

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The poem below mirrors the tribute featured in the video (click the YouTube tab above to view). It was created by a dear friend — a poet, musician, and video artist — who walked through a very dark time and, through grace, found his way back. The video is more than just a song —...

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