Airport poems bring the best collection of short and long airport poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great airport rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these airport poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on airport are here for you.
The hustle and bustle at the airport Some rushing, frantically searching for passport Mothers’ tearful goodbyes, Trying their best not to cry Sudden announcements from overhead speakers A crowd starts moving like follow the leader Pilot with crew in tow
i get tired of the people red yellow black white you are precious but not mine i dont know the people you’re young are you married you’re old is there passion what is your preferred toothpaste rich or poor, can
She dashes just in time for the final boarding call Because airport book shops should never be missed She adores browsing second-hand book stores They smell of memories… like a long-forgotten kiss Bookmarks are more than mere page pointers They
In winter of 2010, January 12 at 6:00 in the afternoon- an earthquake devastated the country in just six little seconds. Soon after, a smoke rose from the horizon covering the whole country, in every cloud of smoke, I could
loggerhead turtles drawn to the moon become distracted, lured by airport beacons to die in strange terrain here in day’s dry whiteness lizards endlessly pause, and bats caper through clustering dusks of vines and lemons drawn from solar cells water
The crunching of gravel beneath my feet A sound I associate with a country retreat Manicured gardens tended with care The scent of rose blossoms filling the air A quiet calm away from the throng The silence disturbed with birds
Whenever you’d ask me how much farther I’d always tell you we’re closer Than the last time you asked And this seemed to satisfy you You’d say, “ We’re closer?” “That’s right,” I’d say “Then how much longer?” you’d want
The Asperger syndrome: you will not speak, you will not tell me about fertilizer bomb. In a farmhouse blackwater becomes a death chamber. A toddler falls in a borewell, you can still measure hypothermia, the tilting of meteor saves the
Urn was carring the snow unmelted like the soul of night. It was a very strange winter like araucaria puzzle. Who was dragging the evergreens over the chaste cliff? All the incogerent roots have broken the placenta for new gods.
A pretty damsel clad in her White Wedding Gown, As if a heavenly Hoori from paradise is coming, With her jewelled crown. The white transparent veil can’t conceal her beauty, The moon-faced bride is looking extremely pretty. Her midnight eyes
A silent whisper, I continue to be. A shadow missed, on the deserted street. A speck of dust, that nobody sees. In ancient trunks, and cobwebbed locks. I lie inside, a forgotten sigh. Through dirty nights, and foreseen dawns. I’m
Heated argument insults flying, blaming denying openly crying, perfectly constructed a natural born lair you are! Knowing just how to twist that knife this tale has become your life with shutters you walk with rehearsals you talk unjustified lies you
Once on Easter, I wished lord Jesus: Oh Christ, I want a beautiful land and lots of goodness with glorious sand let the sand be of any brand but there should be no discrimination in your land for several lever
Listen, listen to my beating heart It has learnt the expression art Hear, hear my bold manly voice It has learnt the speech to rejoice Look, look at my confident eyes They have learnt adjustment to rise Yes I have
You don’t need a time machine, only your memories, they can take you back in time, connected more than any rhyme, you don’t need a time machine, only your memories, they can take you any where, into hope or in
No love on this earth, can define in words our Love and Respect for you, it’s the Unconditional Love that you keep bestowing on us, that keeps us alive and kicking! You are the epitome of discipline and strictness, and,
“Madame Tussaud’s” Initially I was scared to enter that semi dark hall, The hall of statues- An eerie atmosphere, The smell of ancient dresses worn by statues, Oh my God–those wax sculptures, Had brainwashed my mind like a jaundiced fellow,
Trees are planted by the wise, Idiots examine a tree to be just a source of beauty, But an intelligent knows it’s price, Trees are not human who shout at their good, But are like gods who have importance in
Orange tree, Orange tree, beautiful to me A Field full of Oranges on, orange clayish earth I see Sapphire blue sky with the odd sea bird floating on the slight breeze so free The odour of the ripening skin sends
A nebula rises unfazed after fission: after a fractured debate, greed crouching on the wrinkled noses of rugged bouncers. In remote history someone was burning itself out. A black eye surges forward, sings an ode to championship. Ankles swell up.
You the red soft roses, The queen of the bushes, Oh the wooing princess, How shall thy beauty be praised! Millions of unknown thoughts you say, But in a quite silent way, All the world, across tha bay! Behind the
Grief is a house, where the chairs have forgotten how to hold us. the mirrors how to reflect us, the walls how to contain us. Grief is a house that disappears, each time someone knocks at the door or rings
The fathers are all crying there is no more beer so they drank the river water now they weep like children and the wives wring their hands talk about amoebas, bacteria the children tend the campfire no one asks them
All I could hear were the deafening roars of the crowd at the show stopping moment, when everything got silent. The smell of something burning reached my nose, but I decided to ignore it. “Fire!” a voice screeched. Get up!
To get my dues I come to your door talking to myself Today I will present you my theme song in a live shooting belt. A confined thought had the influence fading away It was a stark, frightful journey to
As The River flows – my life completes itself.. An enlightened tryst with the almighty, Created by destiny, I was born To flow like a never ending river A tough undefined journey, quintessentially alone The Himalayas promised me the purity
What should you do when people bother you? not react? not notice? not speak? just endure????? It is easier said than done When they stare in your face When their auras are dark and they eat up your space When
Holi Special… A special day, a special week, Neither I say nor do they weep, A period of celebration, a feeling of getting affection, Making good relations, in form of Benediction, Colours make pleasure in life, without it we can’t
My memories have become nomads, And they come back all at once. Like strangers from myriad surreal lands, Or a thousand prodigal sons. How far from home, we have strayed mother! From that sunny dreaming hearth, So my memories seem