Asia poems bring the best collection of short and long asia poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great asia rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these asia poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on asia are here for you.
I wished a solitary temptation, to write off karma and become responsible for the spattered blood. You were generating hatred, Asia, in the land of Buddha. I can hear the glaciers receding. Answerable to belonging, the change of generations, makes
A darling princess named puzzle-o-pia Of puzzles, she had a cornucopia When she solved them, she was in utopia The Queen worried her daughter, would get myopia! Losing her most precious puzzle, this was the little girl’s phobia So she
The sunset blazes upon the vault This afternoon dies slowly forever The world is overfilled with weariness and fatigue Another episode of this life’s masquerade Comes to an end… The curtain falls… And beauteous Agnes Adoma The prima donna of
From nose tip to tail end, is the eleven-foot-cat, the Tiger-the largest among big cats in the wild. A cat of extra-ordinary beauty- whose second double name is: power and strength; Tiger-identify by dark-vertical stripes- usually individualized pattern on a-white-brown-tawny
Ascent of mankind. From the deep forest of Europe, to the Serengeti in Africa. Man evolved. From the great cities of Europe through the deep cultures of Asia. Good vs Evil. Rocket fuel propelling things along. One without the other
The sunset blazes ‘pon the vault, This afternoon dies slowly forever, The world is overfilled with weariness and fatigue, Another episode of this life’s masquerade Comes to an end… The curtain falls… And beauteous Agnes Adoma, The prima donna of
My heart bleeds, just as my tear-soaked eyes, and anguish-filled-mouth keep asking: why Syria – the Levant – the rising land Why Damascus – the City of Jasmine of shrubs and vines, now turn to vineyard of locoweed and poison
(1) My grandmother, may God have his mercy on her, still keeps the role of the hero; her face wrinkles are a leather book open to all interpretations; the falling of her teeth are the lost evidence on present time;
His stony rampant presence swamps my gut with frozen fear, rearing embittered bones. Forsaken by my angel, away she flew when my favourite shadows died now I am alone with quarrelsome bladder and skittish quivering bowel. The wicked ogre proclaims
My notebook is ultimate power; My pen is my sword as I write the names of Earth’s human scum. Their faces flash through my mind. And soon they will meet their “maker.” God had told Abraham: “Thou shalt not kill.”
I am Lucifer the Prince of daemons which I command like a bunch of minions, for with them I annex realms and subjects who are no more than heavenly rejects, distinct from Saints; the apples of God’s eye. In Eden’s
We’ll settle by the bar and watch the women dance, then split a likely pair when we think we stand a chance. I’ve one eye on the bridesmaid with the skirt that’s riding high, showing off the daisy, tattooed upon
After the pain, some wrath, and more tears Woke up from the trance, which seemed like years The volatile love vaporized to steam Was pinched by reality, out of the pipe dream My heart’d stopped beating and broken apart Residing
The whole truth was porus, a hard punch on my face. We stood on the edge of lies. Body twisted at several places, mutually hating, yet telling sweet nothings, bored umpteen times like eroded hisses. The shrieks belie the red
One day we all are going to die, but without women the world can’t multiply. Don’t you know us women are so delicate, in our own way we’re all exquisite. Although there’s no such thing as a perfect couple, us
Let’s paint these walls red, With the blood of our dead. Of the lost and wounded, the sad and depressed. Let’s paint that chair green, With the leaves of the trees. The trees cut down, every day, week, month, year.
The Layman (Or: When History Repeats Itself)// By: Fareed Ghanem **** He is a layman, just like a gulp of water from a brook passing here by chance. His features are gratis, his eye-brows a bush of terebinth, furze, chicories
I watch, it shines, golden in its reflections. It rises, bathing all in its splendor. I see it all clearly now. Years of accumulated knowledge. A gift beyond understanding. Days flip over, one after another. Speeding up days seem to
When just a little boy inured to bodily harm I stuck a bean inside my button nose which caused parental fright and alarm yielded putrid odor like weeks old black pearl jam stuck between toes Foul fumes a nauseating offal
Revolting inwardly the fountain chokes. New year amputates the fingers of a whole man. History repeats a parallel. He sets the house on fire. Sky withdraws the light till the queen of darkness sleeps before the future unfolds. Smell of
Oh, mosquitoes, children of lust, you hover all over the world, to suck blood for own cause and multiply. Helpless society and frustrated victims are your brooding ground. You’ve outnumbered leeches and vampires only through a strategy of invading indoors.
Dear Sylvia, Autumn weeps in perennial loss for you. Shedding its’ veined dry tears, falling on cracked dry soil. The live oak runs around the front yard, screaming her hair is lost… in bald cries. I want it to rain
One physical world has as many manifestations as there are minds, for each mind sees the world and infers its own interpretations. We both live in this One world but your world seems entirely different from mine. My world is
Paradoxical Shakedown Escape On Planet Earth The Monkeys That You Left Here Have Bled And Given Birth Inter-species Mating Has Fashioned Them With Wings And Now There Flying High Above This Haunted Gallery The Oceans Are Now Rising California’s Gone
The north wind blows cold and dreary, Shrouding trees like snow-white bridal gowns. Streams once murmuring and gurgling, Now mute in deep ice till spring’s meltdown. The night sky shimmers in the steely glints of distant stars. Below an owl
Walking in mental fog, you become a swaying tree. In mistiness one becomes lonely like a blackbird. Hollyhocks would wait, till the sun comes out. December rain brings the gift― of sleet on lips. ————————————– Walking in mental fog, you
From the blank book can I lift some questions for the lofty hopes when I lost myself near the home? The fear was darting inside the white sores. Keys were lost for the answers and truth fell castrated. The magic
Like a pause in pain I ring the bell of homecoming. I was ready to meet the hurricane. The alien neighbor of white fires. After the rains the slush will overwhelm the abducted silence. The celestial peace will be shattered.
Love is super, love is supreme, love is an ever flowing captivating stream. Love is forgiving, love is so kind, love can be sweeter than the finest of wines. True love will stand the test of time. Love is Divine.
The Asperger syndrome: you will not speak, you will not tell me about fertilizer bomb. In a farmhouse blackwater becomes a death chamber. A toddler falls in a borewell, you can still measure hypothermia, the tilting of meteor saves the
Suddenly I hit upon a question, But where to find the answer? In the Wikipedia or to be Googled, Totally was I bamboozled. To relieve myself I took to Facebook, But my Dad showed me the text book. Next then,a
There was a soul-searching after a negative assassination tearing my past, my future. Beneath the burden lies the mountain of bail-outs. You don’t feel whole in shadows of countings. The borders were breached for lavish darkness alive under the full