Beginnings poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of beginnings poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on beginnings are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
The day I realised that I’m just like everyone else. Clarity. I spent all my time thinking that I was different, unusual. [Apparently] I thought differently to everyone else. [I] Wanted, needed different things. Craved isolation. Solitude. Peace. Contentment. Simplicity
Beloved houses die in essence, Beloved people in mass. These treasures seem to balance. Upon infinitesimal hours. For houses die subtle silent deaths, Like furtive fading seasons. Like shadows of dimming lengths, As the fugitive sun hastens. They die –
I dived into empty space, exhilarated, arms outstretched mimicking wings, I flew like a bird. Embracing the thrash and lash of the wind, which flapped the flesh on my cheeks, and froze the tip of my nose. The echo of
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
My friend My lifetime friend You are now at peace. You’ve stumbled through dark tunnels. You’ve travelled, long, and hard. Now time has passed your journey’s at its end. Your pain still edged on my heart and soul and friendship,
I would like to play music again Without recalling events attached to them I would like to visit places again Without remembering what happened there I would like to see the faces that I fell for again Without panicking at
He faked a letter to god and slept whole night. (Fallen in a creek from a moving train.) Indeed, he saddled himself with luxury of oblivion. The success around him was most obstinate. Pretending to condone the arthritis of social
(A Versification of the Evoluted Past in the Convoluted Present Tense) Once upon a billion aeons ago, When mucks are gene pools of protozoa; Long before Ape is the forebear of Abraham And amoeba the forebear of ape-man, I am…
I play by ear, the concord appears The phoenix labours like a tired flame, Wings inward, My ashes have risen to make an onerous claim; In a nutshell, By the ocean, In a clamshell, The pearl sparkles; Should I Be
She had lived in her lonely illusions Since she first came to know of life’s lies When she first watched the sun set in silence Beneath crowded vermilion skies, Where the rain fell in multi clad colours Just like rainbows
Written on the wind the words came one day, shivering, and tired, and confused. Lost was their meaning, wand’ring all the way. They fell on my lips deadly mused. I’ve buried them kindly in my mind’s willing ear, and I
Voltage charges power lines’ high wires All honest men die liers Her electric current runs tight by pliers My fires burn, they breathe, ash, and smoke Held so tightly I couldn’t help it my hand broke Shattered into a million
I am the shore and the sea luring myself in a ritual dance, quenching my earthen thirst with the liquid peace of my soul’s meat- the tumultuous clay’s restlessness numb in ephemeral, soothed by the penetrating rhythm of the immutable
I witnessed the death of the universe… Tumbling, crushing, spinning in the maddening chaos of the spiral Time! Eternity… ceased to exist, Time… was no more, my soul ripped asunder the stars… show no more! Pleading internally I succumb my
Hear the sound of bees with a buzzing sting, Of new beginnings and of what’s to bring. Such vibrant species Arise from this season we call spring. Watch the beauty of flowers as they bloom And you rid yourself from
Time provides what the heartbeat hides; measurement and release for its subjects. Time provides us with existence, a temporary installation of measured quantities encapsulated by one quantum. Time will provide insistence of a contract between living things, a state of
Ends did not meet, like beginnings, fact was insulted by fiction: the newborn stuns the God. Drop by drop life drips from ankles. Desolation takes advantage, forgets the path, becomes self-centered. Dialect changes, to taste the foul heritage, cadaver breaks
One, Too many firsts, Two, We got sand in our shoes, Three, You wanted to keep seeing me. One, trigger word for gay beginnings, Two, times with denim jackets and black bottoms, Three, Popcorn, jelly tots and prawn tempura sushi.
New beginnings and cries, The hatred and unbound lies, Incandescent retorts that menace, And preys on my existence. Who would say, this creature, Once exuded exuberance? Will you ever give, Perhaps a second glance? This heart will ache, Tears will
The restless weather curses me, Why not fly back to your nest thee; There where you always belonged, Where thy heart longed. The Lady waiting on the streets in those eager evenings, Those roads are lost in the new beginnings.
Family. That’s what we’ve grown to be. From once not knowing each other’s names, To all being able to take the blame. The past 3 years, We’ve grown to become who we are, From the people that surround us. Our
Poems are reveries that call you by name. Like all true loves they arrive in spite of who you are, at your doorstep. Nothing needs to be done except to stay with your longing. They are miracles of compassion; they
The graceful dance of butterfly wings, The budding romance attending Spring — The morning melody of birds who sing, The opportunities each new day brings — The serene swaying of porch swings, The relaxing splashing of gentle rain — Wedding
* September is a city of copper; It is the shape of ashes in the tale of the fire-bird. September is a waiting-hall between the bareness of ends and the beginnings of fig berries. So, my beloved substitutes her hair,
As things material have to start somewhere, Like Big Bang or debris in empty space, Might we then ask if space began from where, The same with thoughts, and all, in every case? A god primordial would appall more minds,
High in the Cascade Mountain Range, camped in a wilderness cathedral. Overlooking a vast expanse of wilderness, only meters back from the edge of a sheer precipice. Admiring the shear beauty of a brilliant double rainbow, bridging this vast void.
I always feel I have deceived my conscience My conscience pricks me for what I did I try to convince my conscience for all the wrong I did My conscience accepts my decision but rejects my action I get into
When I gaze at her eyes A softness fills my heart When my lips touch hers A sense of wonderment We have kissed before Through many lifetimes Her hands in mine Exquisite, so femininely divine Her cheeks blushed rosily Her
What kind of God would treat us this way? In mankind the wide spectrum between evil to good can be found. In some, such kindness, while in others a wickedness not to be believed is in play. The ancients believed
The fragrance of Spring sweetly scents the air, And creeks are running full of melted snow, My eyes could not keep foolishly from glare, Of early morning sun’s radiating glow; More buds have opened up, aroused from sleep, To greet
Oneness of creation Simple observation A disease is there Herbs will care Are you feeling ill? Is your face dull? A medicine plant Flourishes to grant Healing To ease your painful feeling A perfect nature Surrounding you With balance and
I know not whether it was of ginger, berry or bergamot _it was fabric and she wore it instantly like a shimmer_ voluptuous almond ‘vollmond’ of gothic ‘purpur’, voice creature telling glow-in-the-dark lies _beautiful. Entering. Barrel organ unravelled and chimes