Anchor poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of anchor poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on anchor are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
You lingered in a deep and restless sea, Ostensibly, a man content to be Untethered by the bonds of wedded bliss; Resistant to the charms of every Miss. Simplistic in your chosen way of life, Hard-fast, you vowed to never
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
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.
The street lamp validated it. I’m single, sui generis, without partner, lost entirely in self. East, up the street, no shadow cast. Turning this way and that a black specter, once sewn to my heel, deserted me. Under the lamp,
I built a dream-castle A castle for my dreams Filled with myriad possibilities Each one I showcased On the shelf of my capabilities A glass-house built on stormy seas Under the blue umbrella of hope I padlocked it with my
You are not a season but a presence, An imagined whisper in someone’s ear. And with your hollow footsteps of silence, Perhaps a traveler who is not here. A Phantom that haunts the city, That we inhabit while we are
Listening to the Sea – Series of poems Blushing the tides around the boat Living and Non Living both I encompass Some bathe within me and some live within me I spread myself so vast to see the horizons of
Tides starts to rise, ripped up by the currents; The birth, snuggled to keep up, tenacious children; Ripples fretted the body, filling, reaching; Stream of water, lowly creeps, lulls to the hollow bed, Trust forth and flow in the rivers
Hi Elim, Your parents gave you a very special name when you were born. Your name is a place in a Middle Eastern Desert meaning “Oak”. Yes, it’s a strong tree, which is how they envisioned you to be. But
why walk when you can ride, she said the bus on fire the upper deck peeled back and dragging the asphalt laughing with the driver, trying to steal his hat then searching in her seal-skin purse for half a roll
From early youth the boy wished his father dead the way he touched his mother and all the things in the house he claimed ownership his stench left behind overwhelming hallways and the breakfast nook pomade and flatulence his inevitable
It was a lingering goodbye for anchor moon after a religious embrace. I bid farewell in the chilling night for a song of separation. Where the beginning ends into a house of distillation. Blasphemy, where did you find the anatomy
A Newly born infant was ruthlessly abandoned on the street to face the vagaries of nature and fend for itself by its ruthless parents A good Samaritan took sympathy on the abandoned toddler and adopted the child and nourished the
Gulls swarm above the lake, clockwise and counter hundreds of miles from the sea, just a step below the unclothed mountain shoulders, they churn swerve near each other like some game, my brother tells me he wouldn’t be surprised if
The Night seems to be so ‘Haunted’. He scares us with his ‘Beauty’ and makes us so comfort with his ‘Darkness’. He is someone who doesn’t talk but listens to everything. When Night is awake every life is dead. But
Lines on forehead are deepening. No signs of abatement of fire in our bellies. The hunger we inherited is only comforting the mouthless. Broken laughs. Strange bedfellows chopping off the murals from the lips. A body rots, stinks. Maggots fly.
The man that created me is old and defeated His paralyzed and tired body fights not to get discouraged Yet, with his inability to do any activity constantly is reminded That life is not so kind when you are disabled
If someone says good days will come I welcome But feel that mine is in-depth a shy welcome For that great concept all have to be in everything good Peruse individually elements of goodness we should Everyone must decide to
You’re so good. “your imperfections make you perfect.” you said that to me. is this how family trees begin? I can’t say something that I don’t know I want to know to know everything I want to know if you’ll
There is a eerie silence before the storm, then the gods of wrath descend and tear apart the fabric of life, continuity, saneness, that binds us together and then there is eerie silence once more.. It feels that the storm
When you wake up. Is it worth it. Facing another day. Feeling nothing but psychological pain. Feeling like no one cares about you. Thinking that your life is worthless. Feeling that your insignificant. Knowing you have freinds but feeling alone.
The movement of the water that surrounds me The slowing down of the force between us The balance of the water holding me like a mother holding its child The character of our bodies reflect its simple gestures The openness
Whatever possesses one to feel liberation A handshake with the mock devil For in ones head is but a thought And others that fight to be heard To create an act of kindness An essence of the flimsy kind For
The heartbeat of millions I am sorry! BILLIONS His name is Lionel Andreas Messi The messiah of football I am sure that he is known to you all And the ‘MESSI ERA’ shall never fall His 360 is unbeatable His
Love letters from L.A. so sweet Every line makes my heart skip A beat, I know someday we will Be together because I believe The heart can bridge any distance No matter the miles that separate Us today, no and
Confused , lost , bloodshot eyes , A wanderer insomniac driven premise , Supreme anxiety , thumping palpitations, Pointless life dictated inhibitions , I Came at your doorstep, A depressed human being , A lifeless soul, Devoid of objectives ,
Half-buried in a mud pit, a polluter bares all, body and soul. Hands bound, ready to be stoned to death. A god was going to kill a god. A dense judgement of planet green of an unreliable sun scribbling a
Death: the most natural And common event in the universe, Yet forsakes us all perplexed. To begin means to end, And to end means to begin— To whatever comes next. I know not, and will not Know of what is
you are not my gleaming sun you are not the soft, rhythmic beating of my heart you are not constant, sweet music to my ears, nor are you beauty and grace and personified you are not my winged golden seraph,
And while I walk, I can hear those words, Being echoed time and again, “From this moment, Here shall I declare that we are free, From those colonial chains”. He was a good speaker, he moved the nation, On his