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
An icy hand controlled my heart And kept it weak and lame Preventing it from beating strong With cords of guilt and shame Each day its poison filtered round Encouraging decay To suppurate potential sores That leaked a grim dismay
Democracy Is no longer What it used to be… Democracy was Government Of the people; By the people; And, for the people! But, Today, Democracy is… Government Of the people; By politicians— For capitalists!
Consider yourself blessed, when in your life, You find a very special friend. Someone special, who touches your heart, Being there as your life’s invisible part. Someone who makes you believe, Life is to be lived against all odds. Life
Sinuous roots stretch scrawny limbs, Seeking security in a forbidding terrain. Tentative fingers probing for purchase, Momentarily anchor, creep and grasp again. Mindless ambition, an instinctive will, Drives a path to solar sustenance. Revitalising rays multiply cells, Promoting uninvited regeneration.
MEMORIES ….. I love your sweet voice , Handling your craziness is my choice . Playing games all day long , and all those stupid questions from nowhere they belong. Sharing every joy or pain , Partners in crime ,
Don’t let the night’s darkness show you those vague dreams again perspicuously. Don’t let the night’s silence guide you to that one voice you always desired for. Don’t let the night shove you back to that soul with whom you
like ether, permeating all space mesmerizing, he walked away, head of his enemy in his hand, like a trophy? frighteningly orangish a decapitated body shudders. The holy war demands its price of a joke. The face of red and blue.
Sound dances on the wind The scarlet life that runs through our body Bitter to the smell Sweet to the taste The lifeline that doesn’t make any of us humans much different A beauty that’s capable of sending chills down
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!
So colorless and filled with multiple colors So weak and venerable; but powerful and strong Harmless and friendly; yet dangerous in adversity It comes in drops but falls in torrent It rolls in drips; yet like an avalanche it rushes
Love is easily excited. It plays your heart like an instrument, the beat hard and fast like a Spanish guitar. Love is colorful. It shows, everywhere. Between two, and inside one. But love is impatient. It doesn’t realize That it
Roses have colours with global appeal; some are pink, blue, red, white and they reveal glamour and beauty for all to cherish. Roses have in them the power of love, so do they, the ability to heal a heart
I’m a twisted echo In a suicidal prayer, Toxic, dark, and damp Empty thoughts, a musical despair. Demon’s start to whisper softly In an eerie yet, enchanted lullaby, A need to numb the pain within me I dance with the
Happy happy happy happy new year Welcome to the New year Goodbye to the present year The first Cheers of the new year is dedicated to you my dear The faces looks unfamiliar who is who none do know what
Ephemeral landscapes Anything for an ethereal escape. Through trodden lands come fatuous perceptions. As though materials fade behind the shadowy hem of night, Hasty winds succumb through numerous violations. Empty space here, concrete expressions of plight Downward facing valleys may
Occupied prior to my existence, did not know my state of trance, inside the mother’s womb, the seedling was like a pulp, in just nine months it grew in shape, to be delivered to the world outside, floating inside the
A mad resurgence of fake locks paralyzes the arched doors of the hidden walls, where the roses squirm under the false kisses of a red moon; they came again to police the blinds. The mother digs up the charred body
The day comes to an end, And the dusk takes the light away. Everything feels so drowsy And we face the Sunset. The flying wings of time, Changes everything in the life of mine. The things are never same; As
Picture a diamond spinning against the dark, flinging back the brilliance of a sun. Move a little closer – you’ll be stunned how lakes and oceans flash, how ice-caps spark. Zoom in lower still and see the forests, so vibrant,
May there be mercy this day of mourning. Fly flags half-mast for human rights’ regress. The “forgotten” poor, white male minority are distressed by their societal mortality. Clinging to obsolete “common” privilege: sexism, lying, and xenophobic “wisdom”. They are what
Cold morning, eleven it was before the Christmas Eve, I picked my bag and wallet, To buy some Christmas gifts, Checklist, bucket list, lists in hand I had, Smile in heart that reflected in my eyes. Warm I was feeling
Memories of old, flooding fast through my mind, some tinged with sadness and some, sweet sublime. A fireside reverie shared with eyes so bright, an audience of innocence and excited delight. The crackling logs on the fires of time, little