Anthem poems bring the best collection of short and long anthem poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great anthem rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these anthem poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on anthem are here for you.
My adorable academic sanctuary, my big citadel of intellectual prowess. Where ignorance is consigned to an ossuary for the once inherent and nagging backwardness. Any who treads your academic trajectory is numbered with the doyen of enlightened ones. Your young
Atlantis reborn we are the ancient ones who have returned Generation X timeline 69 to 79 and we will raise our young To be genius of mind and care for the baby boomers until Their spirits are rapture on down
Love, I ache to hear your voice, sit spell bound in your presence. Be cradled by your embrace, comforted by your arms, Treasured, I await your coming. Will not turn you away, let you down. From that moment on, our
There is no moon. The quite surrounds us. The sound of a footstep Floats across the wire. We hear noises when dark. Nothing to fear, need to relax. Frank want’s to know, Did I hear a noise? Knock it off
It was coming up, the politics like dirty sex in tall Parthenium grass. The panther was hiding on a steppingstone watching the hot, field hockey played with skulls of peers. Mauled, the peach skin was entertaining sunlight in the metaphoric
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
Besieged by dreams that never end Or rebel, because they were forgotten, The despair takes me under her wing. Everything I learned until evening Becomes the seed of the regret that it’s in vain, That I should know it even
S- Sorry people were screaming cries. C- Calling out their loved ones in havoc. R- Rising atmosphere was getting worse, as in better. E- Evening goes by in fast time. A- As the high notes of help cannot be heard
After a soot rain the grey fear moved centripetally, seeking centrum; thoughts, saffron colored, in the words went mute. You were still searching the head, of a nameless torso, in a heap of your failures. The river had run dry.
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
As if words of love could stand alone, Give shelter and feed me. Days when I was hungry, he fed, Provided for another family, But wrote and boasted about me. Cold nights caused me to shiver. No furious fire could
A golden cave was afraid Of a blue thrust. Hands were not able to console the mirror. Let us step back for a last laugh. You were talking to yourself when the canary was set free from the house arrest.
Watching the externalism I was playing a squid in deep waters to save the raging sears of life. Was it a soft intellect to believe in goodness, when rains had ceased to come and seeds were covered with mildew? The
Take it to the doors of heart: features are same, of whores and nuns. Small steps, big hands move towards the blood-gates of ropes to pluck the thorns from books. Tomorrow was yet to come. Today it is bloodbath in
A blossom plant From distant yard Whispered in grief To the flies around : Would you love With same delight When I grow Gray from green? A Sparrow, chirps With perplexed gaze, From profound pride To none but air In
Used stamp collecting of childhood days didn’t cost much. The knowledge revealed lasted for the lifetime. What happened to the electric car? Its picture was on a stamp postmarked 1917. Pictures on stamps reveal what and where. Much geography is
That old pair of socks, lying in the drawer, Reminds me of mom, winters and A long lost lover… Those fresh white textures Look worn out and grey And yet there’s so much they’re waiting to say… I touch them
Spitting the blood, he said, every winter for few days – he would feel outcast and there was pain in the idea of pain, but he wanted to live without a painkiller. Sometimes he will singe his hands on a
It’s not gonna be long before we realize again that we must return to the quiet of wakefulness, the jump to belated scenery that undulates like time, like minutes in your head after the greensward sank weakly beneath the ground
Flowers in the garden, Smiles on their faces. Daisies in her hair, People filling the empty spaces. The wondrous silence that ensues when she walks down the aisle. Not believing the day has finally come, she looks up to him
Even when the night air is calm and still you can hear the wailing of women from the past that flung themselves off of WIDOW’S HILL to the cold, cold ocean below and legend has it at Collinwood they’re waiting
My mind is flooded and his brain is blooded. schooled to just Google the truth about the youth and the proof about the loot. The crimes of the times but we were not schooled for the crimes of the heart.
Among the herd, In the bustling city, Voices here Voices there. I’m unheard. With all my heart with all my strength comes a shout resonating through the glasses. I’m unheard. The voice within cutting across the wind scattered everywhere Oh
Words Stick to my hands, cling to my fingers, hide under my elbow. A trembling poem loses its grip and drops on the sheet. Petrified! Alphabets behave funny these days. Like a mute child with an unbearable stomach-ache. Baffled phrases
The air whirled around in circles. Dried leaves whistled beneath my feet. Something was trying to delay me. Something strange was afoot. Rain started to drip, drip, drip. Then torrents down on my face. I was surely getting the message.
Through all the rank smells of the city’s shore The ocean’s breath says ages of being. Dark blue depths, salty finned life, and much more, Shifting of arm hair aids my eyes seeing My ancestors rising out of the vast
I walk through the halls and streets like a zombie empty and alone Wandering aimlessly around curious if she knows I exist. “The past is the past,” they say but the pain is still pain, They also say, “The heart
A poem writes my name. I am trembling on paper like salt. Flowing like moon on the black wound. The lamb and the skull. I know the saint invented by masses. You need a fresh awakening. A vastness from nothing
My mind a blank canvas, numb from endless travels The road ahead a dwindling silver thread Arriving and leaving, my life unravels Through thunderstorms and bright sunshine Across quiet villages and noisy cities My urge to roam away from my
Sadness mostly breaks upon the horizon it slips into its coma unless you awaken it with a light you carry it like a dead weight a burden inside you. push it all you might but sadness comes again. Let me
When man mortal with a title Becomes vile and self righteous He walks around with the Bible Holy acts and all sacrilegious Carrying LBGQT rainbow banners Hailing the devil’s temporal empire Accomplished false pretenders Adorned in bright priestly attire Those
That day was exhilarating, My heart was already drenching, Split Second I saw, in awe, Gathered my courage to jaw, Time was too good to be true, No thought to subdue, A Kiss, full of bliss, was hard to miss,