Recreate Poems - Poems about Recreate

A hand untouched by destiny A journey uncharted, no lines to trace No fate impacted, poised for its take A narrative of choices awaiting to prevail. Fingers quiver, wrist dance As the unknown calls in a whimsical trance Lacking direction, no routes defined A quest of self-discovery, uniquely designed. A hand untamed, an enigmatic find A life unanchored, free from the bind Weight...

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Gaia will recreate By Michelle Morris 20/10/2020 It's raining outside, Showing tears Gaia's trying to hide... Nature is hurting by our hands, And we were given promised lands... To protect land and beast, Make heaven on earth complete... We have constantly failed in our task, But nature is strong and built to last... Despite the species we eradicate, Gaia will have the...

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One calm evening on a leisure drive with my wife along the Inphal-Dimapur National Highway I remembered my overnight road journeys to Guwahati for office work, sometimes together with her before retirement a decade ago. Tedious journeys riding through the winding hilly roads of Manipur and Nagaland yet exciting the beautiful scenary. Intermittent short stops, taking tea and snack at...

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If I shave with Occam’s razor I will only grow a gross beard; And all my scientific friends Will think that I am truly weird. If I want a small feline pet, Should I adopt Schrodinger’s cat? Will its fur be real, soft, and smooth; Or will I only think it so? If life, Darwin wrote, rose random, And that is how I...

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From Edward de Bono's Lateral Thinking: Creativity Step by [NonHierarchical] Step Summary The emphasis in education has always been on logical sequential thinking which is by [deductively analytical academic] tradition the only proper [true, good, and pretty] use of information. Creativity [like regenerativity] is vaguely encouraged as some [healthy yet] mysterious[ly beautiful empathic] talent. This book has been...

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Just kept running, From men so cunning, Just kept leaving, All those who were deceiving, Just kept packing, Then, lost it all for a price, Realized I no longer had to be the sacrifice. Seen so many faces, Been in strange places, Cried with the sinners, Rejoiced with the saints, Yet, I’m still in need of fresh paint, You’re never finished and you never arrive, Yet so much...

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Boredom, disgust, hearing lies Political debates wait One is good as the other guys Great government recreate Contest: Chastushka Form/Russian Poetry Sponsor: Gwendolen Rix Click on "About This Poem"...

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365 days later. The air still feels thick. My mind is still crowded. Yet, my eyes still play tricks. The people, still careless. She still doesn't know who she is. The author can't decide when the story begins. Maybe they're already at the end. But will the day turn to darkness? Will their eyes regain...

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