Pouring Poems - Poems about Pouring

Life was gentle, there was beauty everywhere, in every moment, Yet my heart was unfulfilled. In a world of vast contrasts between good and bad, I pondered on the notion of love. My beloved, where are you? I often thought, I would sit under the canopy of a beautiful tree. Looking at the night sky…. I wondered if you were also looking...

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Life was gentle, there was beauty everywhere, in every moment, Yet my heart was unfulfilled. In a world of vast contrasts between good and bad, I pondered on the notion of love. My beloved, where are you? I often thought, I would sit under the canopy of a beautiful tree. Looking at the night sky…. I wondered if you were also looking...

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I swallowed my pride and looked at my ego and told myself I could make it work and love you in ways I did not think I could because I do that for myself every day....

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"It’s Raining, It’s Pouring" It’s raining, it’s pouring The old man is snoring He bumped his head And went to bed And didn’t get up till morning. Shivers 'me Timbers truth be told tune's like old day had grew night he knew possibles here unfolds. I'm Popeye the sailor man fought Brutus a former friend was sent up the Big House and fought with a Big Mouth he ate...

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Drizzling webs, wanderer’s shelter Asylum to the nocturnal, Warring, nomadic spirits, rambling On gossamer threads, strands so silken Trembling with soundless lessons…. Sprinkling buds, costly shadows Silhouettes of bruised flowers, eclipsed, By the plethora of rain, flowing, Gentle like the voice of mourning sun, Pledging to erase the silence of stardust moon… Showering oaks, walnuts and pine trees In affectionate kisses, wet like a river, Risking each...

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Under the pouring rain, I no longer have thoughts of you Or of your lingering presence And your condemning silence. To live another day without you Feels easier as I stand drenched. Under the pouring rain, I could look back at history And not feel the wrenching pain in my chest Or the knot in my throat. I could think of you with tenderness And not...

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'Love Story' Poetry Contest. Sponsor: Regina Mcintosh 1st Place. “I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.” ...

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Cigar but no cigar extinguished by the elders Gaslighting commissioners held in tweed The night people slide in between Pouring light velvet dolls play with their own discord electric spears happenstance pale Harlequins of the night scratch their gilded fears outstretched hands that jabs the line of ghost trains Stacked chips sequined starlets shinge Rhinestone streakers parade paying homage to pipers never paid who snort energy in spoons...

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You leave me bruised Sputtering around with no life I gave you everything and You took everything from me Leaving me distorted Twisted in this disfunctional world I watch you live your glorious life Hoping mine will come soon Crawling out of the hole you buried me in And living my best life Would show you how determined I am That through...

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In the splendorous sky of my ardent heart, you sparkled like the sequins of the moon. As I suffused your sapphire sheen to attune, my heart turned into shimmering indigo art. It became the horizon of the nascent dawn, from its chromatic palette a new day arose. All its colors the dream brush fervently chose for my heart’s canvas with sunburst...

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Pouring out my heart, it’s devoid of all blood Perhaps more knotted, resembling of redwood Splinters and shavings, fall away with each thud Can’t escape this logjam, only wish I could Pouring out my heart, but it’s failing to bleed I’m losing my grip, roots won’t let me proceed Failing right now, to try express what I need...

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white wine beer mixer sunrise awaits, raindrops spritz~ ...

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This frigid weather is getting me down Was planning to sunbathe today Perhaps I won't with temps in the minus Skin freezes in 30 seconds they say Maybe it's better if I wait 3 or 4 months Sunburn is better than freezer burn Besides my bikini would go all the way up To my nipples as to purple they'd turn I'm Canadian eh!...

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in the evening full rain in heaven sans any stella no one hides his umbrella...

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He is not THE mad hatter, but rather the tea pouring mad hatter. What is the difference? I asked. The ghosts made a clatter. He’s crazy like the other, but he does not incessantly chatter. And he pours tea into soups, sandwiches, and raw chocolate batter....

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