Artificial poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of artificial poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on artificial are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Full of ooh! Full of pain. There’s much from life, we can gain. But pouring water to the drought There’s everyone, even a team gets out, Falling short of the crease to breathe into the jive-life-breeze. There’s weak, there’s sick,
Remember that fairy tale we read together? The prince and princess wearing crowns stellar studded with the rarest of gems! I got similar ones made by my jeweler. But he said he’d have to use artificial colored stones I Compromised!
Stranger, why should I not smile at you? Why should we be entrapped under false separations of race, color, caste, creed or any duality? Are not we beings cast in the image of God? Is not all – one! We
Modern human took billion of years to evolve The Homo Sapiens that we are called We were the last of apes standing would we be standing for long We took pride in inventions We took pride in our artificial creations
Born second amidst six siblings She was the quietest of all Her short stature was in no way deterrent to her extra ordinary skills She was the nightingale par excellence who could put the naughty kid to sleep, disturbed mind
Will stand alone, challenging time. In the world, which never seems to be mine- Fake people, shallow souls, Sometimes, even my shadow was not mine. Betrayal and breaking trust, Was a routine and was absolutely fine. Playing with people’s emotions-
World of maze ? Fuzzy is the world about mess in the cosmos where the mass amasses gross income that almost abates the flux in values fore grounded in the spinals of mortals. Crazy is the youth on the online
During the full charge of the afternoon words or figures tumbling out of you something the size and scent of work remember that it is unimportant vow to come to yourself pull back from those artificial languages feel your heart
Cereus was in bloom in nightwashed desert, sand was cool, it tipped off the contour drain, a river sent its compliments. If the death was at home, like an estranged lover, will you open the door in dusky stripes of
Global revolution is in the air. Not militarily, but technologically. It will be no less disruptive to world order, in fact it will be many magnitudes more. Technology tsunamis will churn across the globe and back again,washing away the old
Absent deliberate intervention vis a vis suicide, supposed “natural” longevity of generic human primate ride ding bareback across avast broke back mountain minus pride defies accurate prediction, though hypothetical projections can override unknown factors, whereby excluding misfortune nationwide (and/or globally
We were marbles in a concave pan different sizes different trajectories congregating in clumps and caravans until the formation shattered we slid to the edge or the center almost unable to control ourselves but certainly in a hurry motivations and
Are we ready for what’s to come? Will we know how to behave? Never before in human history has there been such disruption. It was once a much simpler place. No more. The future is arriving faster than ever before.
And so ’tis done – drench is gone Salted spray no longer flies the wild air That grim Tempest, that did wax and surge deep, now makes only whispered remembrance of its fury and troubles not the delicate house of
in hired spring and naked thighs the eternal sorrow did not go, it was living in our memory under the gun of an unknown soldier. The mania had brought the overwhelming jeopardy of artificial smiles, the swords, and ropes and
Cold fingers, glowing face Head down, thumbs up Red eyes, watery and strained Our heads ache from the new emperor’s reign. There’s buzzing pockets A reminder that it’s always there and the people on the other side demand our attention
Judgements of deception plagued my mind, Following an artificial shadow with no hope. Having problems from cognitive growth, Learning was considered a form of witchcraft. No intentions of committing remorseful acts, Yet sinned horribly with clouded viewpoints. Jinxed by the
Billions of billboards and floods of commercials Bombard and pollute young minds and our values Where social vices overwhelm visual material So, what are standards of beauty and virtue? Is beauty really only skin deep, let the young ones judge.
What they told us about Capitalism: We were told capitalism creates wealth, we were told capitalism brings the best in man, and with it, individual’s potentials are certainly attainable; we were told individual dreams and aspirations easily come to fruition
Observe not to hold anything your own Struggle and playing in the midst of heart Never feed them any Let them nourish themselves They take the time they need and perish or vanish Instead, fill it with a fruitful thought
Hey, why are you so afraid? To hide, mask your face, to go undercover Scurrying in the piercing golden arrow rain of the sunrays Finding for a fool proof shelter So that nobody will know who you are inside. A
We are not mere sepals, petals, and pollen-grains As scientists view us under their microscopes, But a flower, with all faculties of beauty and life, A full bloomed blossom, the expectations and fulfillment, The long cherished dreams of a plant
Gripped in the smell of sweat, cat food, and ruin, handing out sandwiches under an overpass each hand-off like a shark strike, the homeless shuffle a variegated line discharging a sullen murmur, attention flitting everywhere, avoiding contact dull eyes, wide
Earth is becoming something different, something more. For millions of years proto-humans strode its bounties until Homo sapiens arrived. Once here, humans took millennia incrementally building improving its lot in life. Step by step, developing new ways of improving, one
Sleepless nights Arms melting in a void Words refuse to shape up A poem wide awake by my side Charming solitude Around me… Nothingness Surround me… Darkness breathes in slow trance A constant sermon of silence Invisible moments dissolve quietly
I, the most perfect syllable in the world. It encapsulates me and all that is mine And all that I perceive or have perceived, All that I encountered or experienced, the Totality of my existence and its meaning To me
Under the vast canopy Of spotless blue sky With snow-capped hills as neighbours Rests the cute cottage blissfully In the midst of blooming flowers Far from the madding crowd Far from din and bustle Far from smoggy air space And
I went for a walk at Monson Village today. A place in the woods where people lived in the 1700’s. Rock foundations were all that was left in each spot. Small signs marked the holes in the ground and describes
It’s the shitty line he used Making you feel like garbage Like the trash you leave Wrapped tightly in a black bag On the side of the road Waiting to be picked up by someone else Recycled and recycled While
One was just a little shy the other just smiling wide hand in hand they go their way singing songs as they played Neither noticed all the glares they ran about without a care climbing ladders, and swinging on swings