Alienation poems bring the best collection of short and long alienation poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great alienation rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these alienation poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on alienation are here for you.
Before we knew it we were on another planet Twelve thousand light years from home Where the hours spun backwards subtracting days Then weeks, then whole months from our lives We stuffed what was left into our rucksacks And with
There we met, at street seventy seventh; my friend who’d bowed down with altering features, and me with my clothes getting narrower. We could not find, in this chilly present, a tale to help us recline on the pavement’s stone.
Those verities of secular graft consent to travel, to banish. Snow departs to light; to adorn with pristine bloom the trees rapt and oozing dramatic spoils for the provident birds, with yawning sloughs and water-snakes churning the dead in hotbeds,
Before we knew it we were on another planet Twelve thousand light years from home The hours spun backwards subtracting days Then weeks, then whole months from our lives We stuffed what was left into our rucksacks And with the
I recognized the vitriol. There was blood on your hands. The invisible was burning in dark. This was the black moon and this was the alienation. An animal climbs on your shoulders. It goes on and on. Was it the
When hope returns, will you be in alternative mind? Like a praying mantis brooding for a prey in a bowl of momentum while I have a sense of alienation collecting a cloud of Memories ripping open the gates of tears
Let no gust of wind, Seize the passion from your heart. Let no whirlpool, Sink the rowing boat of your moving life. Let no draught, Dwindle the endeavouring hands of your to work. Let no burning flames, Instigate you to
Though I clearly see Paralleling traits, Corresponding facets Astonishingly quaint This complex, albeit moving, Prominent connection Holds a minute blemish Worthy of reflection. Contrast, yes there’s one, A distinction can be drawn, For you’re rarely right, While I’m never wrong!
The Joy of Bing Skits zoid When just a whippersnapper of a little boy Me late mum and octogenarian pop agreed For doctor removal of my adenoid Less to prevent their only son from being coy Than fear of said
Again I wake in this wretched place Where the devil glares with grimaced face Reading my heart, stripping it bare Savoring the scent of the secrets there I’m slipping and sliding, the ice too thin Carefully creeping, lest I fall
Sleep peacefully in the lap of mother nature, Breathe fresh air and walk carefree, Hear the sound of leaves beneath my feet, Feel the raindrops on my face – And smell the wet earth, Fly with the birds, spread my
Well and in the season of El Nino the grey ones came I felt the earth shake violently and winds of a hurricane he whispered an ancient gypsy curse and drove her insane they made the headlines underneath the one
As if words of love could stand alone, Give shelter and feed me. Days when I was hungry, he fed, Provided for another family, But wrote and boasted about me. Cold nights caused me to shiver. No furious fire could
The sky was sunny, the temperature was mild, and the wind was calm and mild Tornadoes are known to rarely occur here, but the winds can get rather gusty. There is no hurricane season here, but the summers can often
April 9th 1929, my father gasped his first breath of air Head populated with black curly locks No pediatrician at his home birth, when he uttered that initial blare Nor preschool instructors extant to teach him building blocks Inherent in
It starts with a smile, Makes your world freeze for a while. It gives butterflies in your stomach, Makes your dictionary void of IFs and BUTs. It converts days into night and nights into day, Makes you dream cold in
The idiosyncrasies of life, Are not difficult to survive. It does seem entangled like a cobweb But to a spider, cobwebs are their shed. Life sometimes has a bovine enthusiasm, Sometimes its fast pace gives me spasms. The idiosyncrasies of
You said to me “Thanks for loving me” Oh my love! I don’t know what to say Don’t know how to reciprocate Your very thought, your very name Makes my heart beat reverberate Our love is so unconditional Both of
People fascinate me With their colourful qualities. People frighten me With their capacity for cruelty. People inspire me Indicating a world of beauty. People make me feel love. Some make me bow; For their know how. People enrich my life,
Truth is I’m just another woman forced to face The crime of a close friend Truth is where I come from everything is allowed except peace From hookers and hoes to junkies and crack babies From victims turned murderers To
Time zone had become acidic. Wear the chador softly. Moon is coming out. Down rushing stillness croons. Someone is going to outwit the night. A night bird weighs the wind. Why do you stand alone? Desires will come relentlessly. The
I lay in bed Listening to the hammering rain Pit pat pit pat Beating on the window pane I gaze at these racing drops Hitting a different note each fall Spreading the fragrance in the air Of their rendezvous with
It was midnight moon cruising in the bedroom. I step aside in the depressed window, watch the overwhelming spillover. I listen, then do not listen to alien voices of bipolar beings, speaking Aryan, artfully in cryptic signs crunching the bones.
Love sometimes never arrives us Looking for someone in total loss Yet it would cross a desert When it is real and honest It is every minute giving it your all And forgiving everything big or small It is forgetting
A solid belief of karmic influence becomes fluidus but life was questioning again. You take to wars with thousand of nukes: still the daffodils were dancing. Float me on the bodies of bullet ridden moons and clouds: the red river,
As I ponder upon thee, The future to foresee, Nigh that shore, was meant to be Since days of yore, mine destiny, Waiting to embark, for many before, Hating, dropped and left each oar. And what would be this living