Short Handing Over Poems
Short Handing Over Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Handing Over by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Handing Over by length and keyword.
mind inquires
but needs to stop
handing over the baton
to intelligence of our heart
that the light of true Self
illuminates our path
All the things you've ever done
To everything you have become
Can be undone
By handing over
All the things you've ever done
Everything you've now become
Awaking, pre-energised and in tranquil calm, vibrant inner stillness gently handing over the baton of awareness to externalised senses, transition eternity of is-ness in being-ness, we abide therein.
Void of no-thingness
Throb of dynamic stillness
Purring blissfulness
17-August-2020
we thought the thought about transcending thought
which required choosing shift from head to heart
handing over baton of awareness
to higher mind by adding love to cart
abiding thus in thought rested stillness
ego unfed too changed its direction
unified presence entwined with oneness
paving way for our soul’s resurrection
As long as we continue to accept
the screaming of ‘allahu akbar’
in praise of those who gleefully
remove the heads of men,
whilst at the same time choosing to ignore
the fact that the name of Jesus Christ
is heard most often in the context of a curse;
then we are gradually, but inexorably,
handing over our future to the enemy.
lets break the ice
melting sitting
upon the knee
standing tall
love the tower
of strength
with unity of mind
could hear
a thousand voices
singing this moment
handing over
a token
undying love
scarlet red
holding in the hands
a crimson delight
from the deepest
red dripping raw
opening in the chest
a treasure
freshly bloomed
mine heart
within you
a rose
i give
you my all
A drop of blood trickled from a vein
Cut up for being vane
Gazing at the reflection in the pane
Ignoring the emerging pain
Shoes lined up in pretty rows
On the bed a single rose
The blood oozes fast and fills a pail
The face slowly starts to pale
Heavy does the depression weigh
No longer going the right way
The killer collects his earn
After handing over a pretty urn
There is this sinking abyss
It's down inside
It's empty and longing
Moaning with an unsure agony
It shakes in terror
The emptiness cries out
No, It screams daily
"Give me what I want"
It's demands mean
Life or death
Sounding pathetically addicted
The question is
Do I give It what It craves
Handing over all my knowledge
Or do I suffer in silence
And in return gain
Great wisdom and health
M. Lyn Church
May 3, 2013
To be freed from one’s mind,
Walk the woods, behind mankind.
Yet another day bleeds into night,
If not for the morn, who’d see the light?
With no reprieve, I cannot escape,
As I stay hidden under death’s cape.
Doth the laws we abide keep us in line?
Those who speaketh and make this design.
Should our faith in them never wane?
Shall we overlook this world in pain?
As we perish in the way they intend,
Handing over our gems for them to spend.
Parking fine
Parking fine
Where hast thou cometh?
Placed were thou, on my carriage
Disgraced by thy sight
Brightest yellow and black colours
Emotions of regret flood thy soul
Ye knew to put a greater amount in
The monetary mechanism
Parking fine
Parking fine
A mistaken identity
Be gone, get thee behind me
Thou shalt not forget this day
Pain of handing over
50 sterling coins
Parking fine, no more
Parking fine
Parking fine
Why did thy come?
It's the special season of giving and joy
not felt in months of warmth and heat;
TV programs with beaming faces
tell us we are happy;
hassled clerks and confused shoppers
all swept up by the seasonal depression,
what is enough and when do you stop
handing over the plastic?
The season seems to be measured by
materialism and its pseudo happiness;
but it comes to an end when it's
back to work with budget and taxes
during the in-between months of everyday living.
Rolling back
the curtains
A grand opening
in the deepest stage
Handing over
on a silver platter
I give to you
A chapter of life
In the spotlight
The heart smiling
Glowing with desire
With a thundering applause
Lifting the soul
to the highest
Before the eyes
standing
the cup of beauty
Holding inner space
Would you Juliet
If I were Romeo
Take the heart
Each beat
the applause
Smiling in glory
In dreams
Calling to
Come
true
The job is to lit in night,
From Sun,leased out the light,
Edison is the master,
Taught Lincoln,not history but how to become a history?
A philanthropist,
Giving all light free like smile,
A camera fixture along the road to capture pictures,
A wayside police always straight and alert,
Vanishing,handing over the night to the next in shift,dawning,
Rolling down the blankets mist and snow in armpits,
When the big way to open to the big boss,Sun to come on Sky!
Handing over the reins is, of course,
Very rarely involving a horse.
It’s about the tradition
Of easing transition
Of power, with no show of force.
The expression is mostly applied
When a leader is stepping aside
And helps he who comes next
Not feel lacking or vexed
With all negative feelings denied.
Yet today, those same reins are held tight,
While the whole world is watching this plight.
It’s an ugly impasse
Lacking candor and class
Led by one who is driven by spite.
Respected mad
Title : Retiring officer
You are my principal
With principles
You are my teacher
Who never let me deter
You were my peer
Who wanted me to cheer.
I appreciate your honesty
Worthy is your amity.
The aura you carry
Made me very crazy
People like you are rare
As you retire i cannot bare.
Every begin has an end.
Handing over is the trend.
Let us part to meet
Memories will remain sweet.
With love
From
Ketaki
Patankar