Barbaric poems bring the best collection of short and long barbaric poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great barbaric rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these barbaric poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on barbaric are here for you.
Blood dripping from the pages of history books, wartime pictures, dried bones, graveyard stones, torture weapons, memorial sites, echoing the atrocities which occurred at Auschwitz. Any poems that capture the glimmers and whispers of a rainbow in another season may
It goes without saying; soon the cow barn will be full & men quite drunk, Women busy preparing to feed stomachs and give one of their own away, To who, doesn’t it matter? Old, too old or extremely old, a
There‘s no power strong enough to halt this motion Thus, the universe, hinged upon a transient axis in her cosmos plane, spin and revolves in an infinite motion But not moving forward, thus days and years were born All substances
Brain Born Perverts : The denial of earthly existence ! Does The Existence sustain? Beguile compels to distort , And infuses the fickle fake plots . The dignity of faith and the formidable stature Are plundered by time winged lockouts.
The sprawling mangrove forest shifted away from the giant concrete thoroughfare that has come to traverse through their murky habitation. Their host of wild mammals and their uncut barbaric lifestyle have retreated farther to their dense recluse of primitivity. New
When pinch of godly emotions diluted Into optical fusion of matted commotions And the whole concealed constellation Beguiled its proclaim in dismal dismay, Gurgling upsurges fused with a shy smile Amidst the mute chambers of heavy heads. Nothing like bleak
Take care, my dear, of the spoken word, Bridging gaps is our guide word. A word once spoken razes mountains beyond repair, And craters of tears with endless despair. Leaves scars does a scathing word, The poisonous dagger doth stab
Freedom, a word you can truly embrace, a lot don’t have freedom and wish they could have a taste. Everyone wants freedom, and want it with a passion, while freedom can come in every shape, form and fashion. Like the
She watches him, every move sucks in his atmosphere, she fakes petty unconcern listless, restless encircling the prey spinning her web.. He sees all, walks away still faking it, she retreats smudging the smug hibernating until the next one lands.
Go beyond the past. Go beyond the present.. Will you love me when night Falls and nordic winds blow All those drunken eyes out? When those cleansed people Wandering through other times And places, look around aimlessly In search of
A lovely feeling, surprisingly drenched in passion, an emotion that’s fleeting, but stronger each time, spilling from my soul, with ink on paper. I wonder at my own predicament, in a fearless emotion, that isn’t tangible, the sculptures of a
Slipped from the tree fell into the beautiful bushes Tickling the hell out of me Cold Cold water touch my feet to comfort Wasteful thoughts sieved out Let’s call upon the sunlight and complete this Portrait that consists of me
You don’t need a time machine, only your memories, they can take you back in time, connected more than any rhyme, you don’t need a time machine, only your memories, they can take you any where, into hope or in
Nobody ever saw her break She carried around an awful ache A smile that could warm your heart Slowly frowned at she fell apart Nobody knew of her silent struggles Not one person knew of her troubles Her inner demons
I feel jealous to cast a glance on it On my deprivation, brooding, I sit I feel something lacks somewhere in me What made her simply a devotee? My rival she dotes upon Mainly from dusk to dawn Lonely I
Sometimes I wonder what’s it gonna be like without the one you once loved, yeah it’s gonna be hard your gonna experience the most pain probably in your life.. and your gonna think your not gonna find someone else.. and
The wind blows, but I feel not the breeze The moon and stars on parade above Have lost their glow and magic The campfire crackles with its wavering flames But I feel not its warmth Friends singing, a blur of
The art of winning is not in Who’s holding you, your talent, But view. See yours as valuable, deserving, praise worthy, better. Whatever it is be proud of it. Speak and protect your children as priceless jewels, your mate as
Deluge of criminality in the moral night; sun was taking a plunge on the falls, in the name of cobbled up front, for our rise and fall in the primary casuality. Sacred contusion, on the floor of the mausoleum, when
About The Bottomless Pitcher One that never fills but still overflows…. A barrel of water for some A bucketful of tears for the other A pocketful of love for one A volcano of fears for the other How do I
The man he stands in burning ashes, A volcano flows into the sea it masses. The world will drown tsunami trashes, A black day dawns, for 20’000 years it passes. No life on earth except cockroaches, A symbol foretold by
That was it. Everything he said made sense to me. Not the content of the presentation, The nature of the delivery. Outside of jealousies, Around common practices, Ground breaking, no less, A salesman beyond confidence. It wasn’t about town and
In last journey he wanted to have a free run without rumors of reconciliation. From years back he watched – friends, disappeared one by one. He became his own enemy. The ravines were waiting for the sacrificial throw of a
Listen that delicate one at the stream With the touches of rays at the shimmering cheeks That rhythming heart with troughs and the peaks With the waters of eyes and the emotions, cream Quiet is the drop and the orangish
The mind wanders, To that happy place, Still making me smile, Although it has been a while. The mind wanders in between pleasant moments, wondering how would it be right here, right now? It requites then, nodding ‘YES’! It would
My heart longs for your consoling words. My ears longs to hear your footstep. My nose longs for your smell.. My skin longs for your touch. My head longs to lie in solace of your arms. My eyes are weary
Circles abound Clouds unbroken in high sky Sun pounds down Patterns quilted to my eyes Legs quaking Muscle sinews shaking Metal missiles passing Broken glass refracting The bloody image drowns my mind My foot gone numb steps the edge and
As I ponder upon thee, The future to foresee, Nigh that shore, was meant to be Since days of yore, mine destiny, Waiting to embark, for many before, Hating, dropped and left each oar. And what would be this living
I. If all lives mattered, then Black lives would matter. And blood on a street in Ferguson, MO would not have been splattered; And a body would not have lay there unattended for four and a half hours after. II.