Analysis Poems

It is a foregone conclusion that the writer uses all five senses to create their work. However, I have found ( at least in my experience) that each sense exercised provides it’s own individual inspiration. Not to be over analytical

Self-realisation does not come when you expect it. It is beyond being aware or understanding your situation. It involves radical thinking Awakening happens when you’re fed up And you want to break the vicious cycle Unchain yourself from what society

I had always wondered If fiction is wrought Only in books and on celluloid. I know now, that fiction is when one by one the layers are pulled off. and the shadows that remain Is fiction. So when the boundary

Mind has different roles in realizing life’s goals. It claims to be rational in self-concerned decisions, creates different logics to win over pricking situations may be logics and decisions damage self and social control. Rationality in logics for all results

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

My fellow Americans, The hour is dark. Hence I stand before you With a heavy heart. Something is coming, Something man has never seen – An attack lacking precedent Within the pages of history. As you all well know, We

The voices, unheard The image, unseen. The crevasse that separates The analysis from my mind. It can’t reach me, as I cannot reach it myself. But still I am told to reach For the goal that I cannot see. Before,

Cold spots and disembodied voices echo in the ancient castle as shadows come from out of nowhere, soldiers in armor, ladies in waiting well and but then they disappear almost as they appear oh don’t you know living in EDINBURGH

When u came I wondered why When u spoke I wondered for what When u smiled I wondered with a WOW When u got angry I wondered what happened When u wrote I sat and read When u said I

Sitting in silence surreptitiously meditating on the everyday turmoils and confusion that repulses even the most hard-core reality driven populists Thoughts come and go within the realm of preposterous assumptions that convey nothing of importance Just pass the time as

Dear father, Have you seen your daughter lately? You are missing a lot. You have missed a gamut of Her cuteness. I see her daily in my classroom, And she is growing into A wonderful young lady. She is smart.

Our father left us while we were young We could not clean our own stable And we did not know how to But we knew how to protect our color. Our mother separated us for the reason You had to

During the talk on love and life My friend, he ended the conversation With a conclusion ‘One who want to be a real poet Should have a pure heart But one who needs to be a committed lover Should have

I’m sitting over here and you’re sitting over there, I always know my “allocated” chair, I have to admit I am sceptical though, I do my best to never let it show. I cringe when I remember the things I’ve

She pressed her ears to the ground- to feel the vibratos of his words. They tiptoed into her senses- barefoot bleeding tact on facts. Flustered with assumptions- they trampled a mockingbird! It raised its head unafraid- gasping for its last

The shyness in me makes me decide not to speak I climbed the mountains and have seen the peaks The words I write cannot explain emotions that I reach Destiny lied to me in my mind and never again should

Today is a special day, it is not my birthday, nor any so-called day! Today is a special day, where loves blossoms steadily, where Cupid lead me to a beautiful lady! Today is a special day, when love flies not

Is that fair? Waiting to say all that when am gone Is this how friends be? ‘’He was an intelligent person Full of wisdom only he was careless’’ You say. Why saying that when am gone? Why? Why? Why? You

Round and round, I turn around. People blink at me, I never unwound. The world revolves with my feeble sound. When people follow me, they are time-bound. The sun travels on my arms. The moon follows my norms. I am

His last breath….. from within a white Portland ward, beneath white linen sheets. Were silent endearing sounds. They were not born of pain… but of peace. His loyal wife…his bonded sons… at his side. The oldest son softly whispering, “Go

Oh my love, my soul-mate You are so beautiful and delicate Curve of eyebrows are so great Come on with me on a date Your presence with me on ground Will make me more happy and sound To your bounty

Getting into the room of a poet is like entering the cell of a prison unknowingly the prisoner… but you must keep quiet… because, such is the freedom of being kept behind bars, myriads of butterflies of freedom sleep there

I lived in a sweet world ! Full of love, care & beauty. It had bestowed a sweet dream upon me. They were beautiful flowers of happiness.! I had flown with the dream ! Held its arms tight. But, I

Warm eyes look at the blue sea I am the clouds of idealism Waiting for the green spring Flowers in the wind A widow cries Age is the myth of denial I am younger than time Your hand is snow

One last drop of sorrow just whispered to me When all this time I have been so hollow I smelled a poison,that you could never see And the clouds just blurred my way to follow Still I could not find

Brought over in physical chains, treated like insects. The belief that one’s background, determines who he is and will be. Though times have passed, the chains remain. Not only for those who were brought in it, but all those who

I have tried to love you so many times but you cannot see clearly- why are you so blind how can it be that you don’t understand couldn’t you feel it when I was holding your hand I tell you

Dark surrounding me, encompassing me, suffocating me blackness filling my lungs with sorrow, pain, while hope deserts me leaving me weak, fragile, forlorn. Dank, musty air reminiscent of decaying ancient tombs echo the horror I feel as my breath becomes

I looked back and caught the ocean, stealing my footprints from the shore. The sun, blushed red, sank hurriedly and gulls in raucous haste of homeward flight, did not bear witness.

Kites , high they fly On their distinct path Wandering, discovering, redefining … With burning desire They fly… Red, green, white, gray and golden All belonged to me Or do they?? Red , is my first favourite It flies forever,

The mysterious rival: suffering of resignation. I am reading myself for the surrealism of life, juxtaposition of love and hate. Another blast went off. White rose and black rose in the same garland; ruins of truth were older than lies.

You cradle me in your arms, Kiss me on my forehead, Say the word I love you in my ears, Then hug me while we’re both lying in bed. You never left me alone, Instead, you lead me on my

Standing alone here, As a porcelain doll On me have taken a toll All those years Of shed tears In being what they wanted me to I hid my identity true And now I stand here bemused Finding it tough

You run into my mind When We just thought it was all over, & Then It is pensive more than ever! You run into my mind, Kindling a sense of desire. But again, The thought of adrift Leaves me green

Will I ever experience love? True love that is pure? How long must I wait? how much must I endure? I really need that someone I can think of all day long when will you arrive, to sing to me

He has half a mind to say nothing The other half won’t keep quiet Muttering to itself half listening Neither seems aware of the other But both handle the wheel with care Concentrating like a hawker hefting Objects to sell,

‘The mist of love That flows in the air Is felt in the heart That truly cares And though only A fleeting chance Still it was a great And fine romance Our love was fragile Like the wind that blows

Well we were over years ago I just wish somebody would tell my heart…you’ve moved on with your life and I know our love will never come again so why can’t I learn to let you go and get on

Only God’s love can find us Only the love we have in Jesus Is all the mercy to heal us From heartbreak and sorrow Fear of tomorrow The longing we carry inside Of our broken hearts Only God’s power and

A girl walks through in the dark, Cumulonimbus suddenly blow with a big spark. Beings in the house, and animals under the tree. Others take their shelter in the busy road for free. Clouds roar and crowd of the rain

The South Americas Everyone in the South Americas make theft games Minus those who are truly poor Yes, my friend, life is so The most skillful keep from life all its fruits And the most naïve always end up with