Anarchy poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of anarchy poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on anarchy are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Wind prowled. You had a hornet’s sting buried half in your hand. Anaphylactic shock. Translates into night of terror. You hesitate to smile. Midnight blues. You cannot count the stars. Pesky. Stories spread about moon’s pink thighs. An ode to
it bleeds in thin sunset strands filters through within sunlight congealing in layers every day a fat ripeness that makes old folks sob for the urges their bodies no longer answer the pig died like prejudice you can learn about
Don’t let your heart become a paper boat sailing towards childhood, Towards the harbor of its never returning fragrances, Don’t float towards its crescent moons if you could, or the enchanting crooning of its past tenses. Don’t become an interpreter
Don’t let you heart become a paper boat sailing Towards childhood, Towards the harbour of its never returning fragrances. Don’t float towards its crescent moons if you could, Or the enchanting crooning of its past tenses. Don’t become an interpreter
Holding the ladder I was hungry looking at the waiting dawn. Raw landscape: narcissism forages the belly. Picking up the figs from passion flowers. Is that right? Can you sow the seeds on a cloud? Unclothed words? Stealthily a guerilla
Today, streets shamelessly bathe, after they were piled by east winds, which were imported from West, North and South, since that news bulletin to which nobody gives mind. At the hall there is a red coat, a pink boot filled
I see it coming the end before the beginning. Of dawn. The midnight call. Impeachment was fragile. A satanic cult overwhelms the freedom of negation. Do yoy think we can move the tree of wisdom from the altar of ethics
I feel, A strange hunger A hunger for freedom… Though I have, Yet I desire… A deep unfulfilling kind of starvation… Can never get too much of freedom, The thought lingers, To play on my mind… Freedom… Intangible yet priceless,
The Argument The first canto proposes the entire subject matter through the first few lines, where is stated the tragic plight of those English people that went against Hades, the then wicked monarch of England, who, for the proclamation of
It’s time to wake up world, read between the lines and start paying attention to the Warning Signs. Why are there so many disasters coming back to back, it seems Mother Earth is on the attack And it’s a shame
Heavenly Father, I focus my thoughts on You. In the palm of Your hand, how can I lose? Your grace is sufficient for every need. All things are possible if I will only believe. Divine power through me is flowing.
Everyday my past comes back to haunt me Making me relive what I couldn’t give up, an unpayable fee Friends, family Love, but not me So quick to steal their breath And fill my world with death With no chance
The day is white bright winter sunshine coats on, scarves many coloured, the zenith is the warmest The night is black dark moonless cloud duvet tight, pillows many and soft, the nadir is the coldest Between the lark and the
” The ancient sages solicited from Almighty to be born again ‘here’, The Buddha got ‘Buddhahood’ Only in serene landscape of ‘here’, The ‘world-conqueror’ ‘for all the world’ Returned as ‘Self-conqueror’ only from ‘here’, Many ‘Sufis’ find their ‘Khanqah’ Seeking
It was set on fire, the market place: from a distance I was watching, the hieroglyphic climate of the cutouts; some shoes with yellow human feet embedded in them, were thrown on the images of gods, lying on the steps
The bright red sun blisters my dreams When I wake softly like a fragile flower unfolding for water to take to grow Learn as my memories of flying high into the sky above the deep blue sea Rivers rapid flowing
It’s one of those mornings that welcomes whiskey and soda with open arms. The Sun and I, more or less, feel the same way about getting out and conquering the world. ‘Well, it’s not our turn today’, we tell ourselves.
On the hay stack lies my body brought from the shooting range. Brain dead, I exit, to watch the blood drenched earth. Foot prints of eternity. Window is shut. No light enters. In tiers, the cadavers are lying in a
Come take out your bible Let us start a revival Unification is the plan Grab your bothers hand We shall all live to understand The drunkard in the gutter is still are brother This nation is drifting further apart Blown
I tell you, there was something amazingly different about the way I felt. I’m no dreamer, psychic or seer, but there was imagination everywhere I paced the floor, wondering about the strong winds on a night so clear I could
Nomadic moon was roaming in the maddened fear of night. A wordless journey in silent dark. Betonica for a painless being, sustains the blues of separation. An inverted green puts the roots upward to send a message. Fear breaks the
We are all equal. Placed here for one purpose. Created by one almighty. No one is superior from their neighbor. All equal but very unique at the same time. Together we are one great nation. We are all equal. May
THE GIRL WHOSE NAME IS DEATH / BEYOND THE BARRIER OF SPACE, TIME, AND LEEDS In the Shopping Mall beneath enclosed skies I sit with my girl of the night-dark eyes, while half a world, and a culture away is
There are brightened screens on lazy afternoons, Queue up for a weekend getaway from our dull bedrooms, What’s your age, sex and location? Are you here for rendezvous or recreation? Thirty Sally whose a housewife, is looking for illusions, to
Thinking, contemplating my current situation. Scared. The lights of the city are turning down. From this view I can see everything. I’m watching her come down for the night. Helping me to not come down alone. Slowly, dying together. From
The kids wanted a piñata, so we got them one; but I must stress that it had no religious significance. It did not have seven points representing the seven deadly sins, and it was not an allegory of man’s temptation
Moon stepped gingerly on clouds. Apples were painless. Yes, centrifugal goes the truth on a ploy, unveiling the sky. Pain of the dreaded times, was visible through the invisible. Tremors in the mountain range were palpable passing through the spine
They swim like tadpoles. Thoughts! I was waiting at the far end of pond. Heartburn increases at dusk, fierce battle of blazing stripes on blankets. On the scarlet face a bridge was burning in wide open eyes. Somebody takes an
I went to see the Louvre Thousand paintings but a good few Hundreds of people roaming here and there But not a single friend like you.. Happy,sad,blessed moments We had the pictures framed upon these walls Each picture saying something
Music and words are the places that I hide, the solace of their sanctuary with walls, behind which to hide. But now when I sing those melodious old songs, tears are all I can find where the words should belong.
You never touch the ground neither go round and round hung up for a very different use your job now to make them amuse after retirement a change of fate now into swinging than erstwhile rotate sure I’m for this
Sumptuousness of the cafe, Sitting at the corner… Softly Decorated with glasses comforts of Air-Conditioner.. Silent faces unknown held down on phone-screen… Headphones and Ringtones like sounds of guillotine Inside the head-Rage and fire against the politics-bullshit of generation of