Amsterdam poems bring the best collection of short and long amsterdam poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great amsterdam rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these amsterdam poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on amsterdam are here for you.
there is no single shade forget the actual texture the topographical contours of the bone and muscles it’s the mottling that fascinates where the painter might strain to be photographically precise or the photographer to zoom in to obscure the
A Colored Moon// By: Fareed Ghanem (1) A moon is red in three moods: When the ladies of high society kiss windows and walk out without lipstick, or; When white color is called red, or; When roses bloom in your
Night after night, watching your face shimmer with tears, night after night, watching your face burrow into my breast, I have wondered, my love, full of misery and mystery, I have wondered. This being, so incredibly sad, this being, so
It slithers, the tongue trying to find the rage on cold words. A window shuts on fire for a deliberate withdrawl from conflicts. The virgin iron becomes a corpse under the golden amnesia of hot greens. The colors are changing
Literary Lessons #1: A poet should above all be devoted not to being copyrighted, but quoted. #2: Divine inspiration is no excuse for bad poetry. #3: In literary style, I endeavor to follow in the footsteps of Dickens, Poe, Dickinson
Pain intrigues a mystery The endurance of perseverance Tingling through every cell With a vengeance to conquer The mind and heart. Sweet is the pain That makes you feel alive Crimson red with scars Like a zipped pouch Oozing with
Our rooftops were connected, you remember? And those rooftops had all those long strings Tied from corner to corner for hanging laundry, remember? And when summer’s first hail showers Came beating down all of a sudden, How it had to
Something impossible would happen. Truth was too much to operate, life was easy with fakes. Neither mortal pain, nor needles would mend the wounds. The chasm was deepening. And I stitch the orange lights with the kisses of green tears.
Someone stood a mannequin on a rural highway away from the nearest town, just past a bridge in a gap in the safety lights. It did not wait, just remained an immobile figure, dressed up in black clothing, until a
Years ago it was nice to see the flurry outside, We played there with gusto But now we have mauled nature, Because of our non-altruism attitude, We have grown natty in our culture, But we are ninny in our thoughts
Distance was increasing in spewing rage. I yearned for a solitude of desert sand and rocks away from musty tongues and eros. Counting my failed attempts to reconcile with exits and slant hopes. Like an eclipsed moon plying over the
Mask is a object worn on face People use ‘coz they want themselves to be efface Mask is used for protection and disguise It usually give mortals a surprise A masked face is what people see And it is who
Just unbound, the death rate. Red roses had no qualms. Numbers, unapologetic, they die or commit suicide. Death had no tombs. One by one they cross the stream, sinking half, floating half in a cynic system, heedless, emaciated, eyes looking
I searched in vain for the perfect word to explain to ensure it’s heard I searched and searched in the dictionary I ransacked all the vocabulary I dissected each word’s etymology But it seems it’s an impossibility some feelings can’t
Awakened with memories I’ve managed to keep quite a while So wonderful to be here just now, “I’m dressed with a smile!” Marvels are about to happen yet again, “I don’t know what?” Imagining lucky horseshoes on my good old
He led the struggle, candidly active That had become a national mass drive He led the country, by being self-example To quote Mahatma Gandhi, incidents are ample Truth and non-violence were two sides of same coin Such pragmatic stand, led
A scent of fresh glowing flowers graced the room Noting an expression of optimism on one’s face Swifted the day with an agile grace Having motioned by a thought Engulfed by confidence Incredible imagination running rampant Ideas tendered by success
The will to create and the wish to destroy, it is time you acknowledge, has never been yours to own, Because, in your vengeance, in your unmindful impatience, in your immaculate madness, when your soul turns to stone – You
I stand here alone. Afraid. Why did you ever lie to me? Dragging me further and further down with this temporary love, You had me paralysed, mesmerised with your very essence. Why couldn’t I break free..? Weak, so weak I
“And this, for the most beautiful lady in the world” taking the flower out, he said. Her eyes kept staring at him in amusement, and those eyes of hers already left him rapt. “Will you be my valentine?” kneeling down
coming out of the frame, in evening without a sun, unflinchingly, he said, he was talking to his father daily, in his mind, who was in grave, (when he was on ventilator) about a lesson of deception, about the things
It was a failed attempt to employ the eternity for breathing. Iris, I cannot find the moon behind the rainbow, when I was throwing petals at your feet. O, white truce of anemone, why phosphrous was given up at the
Let us not cry for the fallen statue. he is still alive and writing his own epitaph. Eagles sitting on tall branches will wait for the prey. Why did he fake for a genius running the lives of millions toward
That’s not a dagger which stabbed me down That’s your betrayal which hunted me down An enemy, a hunter doesn’t bother me Its you and you, which really hurts me Surfing the waves, you landed on the lonely island Wasn’t
I saw a hope, hope rising up in the air or was it a wish wish following someone’s prayer? I traced it to the point point till it disappeared pondered there for a while then another one appeared. I also
when life pulls as the flood, you are a rooted plant, resisting and growing by yourself! when life tempts as the apple, you are a curious eve, sinning and learning by yourself! when life turns into a battle, you are
The space shrinks when moon breaks the black night. An aching flotilla does not reach home. The wait ends in your poems. Clutching at floating truths you help to save the words of predicament. Ultimately a temple walks free without
I saw you walking down the road Into the mundane Could I hold you back a little into a diversion a moment of indulgence unpredictably startling smile on your face and a sweet memory that will make the mundane extraordinary..
I. If all lives mattered, then Black lives would matter. And blood on a street in Ferguson, MO would not have been splattered; And a body would not have lay there unattended for four and a half hours after. II.
Divide & rule is a common act in our nations, They say politics is a dirt game, though every day we experience politics, Allocation of resources been major politics, It’s a horrifying reality but we have politicians & voters, Lisa
Why do we suffer? What’s the point? People are born with terrible conditions, live lives of torment and pain. Die painful horrible deaths. Why? Why would a God created such conditions? To teach us lessons? Seems cruel I think. Wouldn’t