Begs poems bring the best collection of short and long begs poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great begs rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these begs poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on begs are here for you.
The pain slowly spreads through my body. While my mind begs it all to stop (to stop the pain, to stop the tears…), My heart refuses to let him go. The mind screams out: “Let him go! Save yourself!” But
Beggar begs for alms with folded hands Corrupt demands bribe stretching his hands Beggar begs to fill his tummy Corrupt take bribe to blow up his tummy People cursing the beggar throw coin at him People fearing the corrupt give
Up there, the mind of saints is telegnostic And thought is superluminally telepathic; Via sensorial communications anomalous Gnosis and mind are venially synonymous. All is public fare; the personal life is dead And every thought you surfed in your head
Blood moon, O, sun-halogenated bulb! Sublunary loons swear and swoon Your red blushes flood The late twilit noon In hot menstrual flushes of blood! But blood moon! In your earth-orbited race I think you run out of skied space Much
Gaze into a persons eyes, far beyond the mask and wonder at the questions that you’re too afraid to ask. Gloriously gazing into depths of deep emotion, currents running deep within a cool and placid ocean. Dive into the loving
It was burning again like goldenrods in drift valley of ethnic hate. You start climbing down deeper in fear holding tight your identity. The anguish of ruined home under the shadows of bribed hands, runs on the bodies of pilgrims
Winter has the taste of melancholy; my window puts on a cloak of glass, wraps its face with a shawl of lead and drops cold tears, each time universe shrinks. (2) Migrant birds have a travelling homeland in sky and
A spoonful of sugar melts into his tea And how perfectly made they are My nurturing soul is utterly satisfied While his lungs let go of the tar “If that balloon pops, I shall cry I already feel just like
Emerald irises up in Parallel rarely meet But now two pairs sprawl and bloom Neon hugs the sides While shades of green begin to colour the night Before long, you’re here Room one-one-seventeen Covered, stretched black divinity As calling, calm
Chizzie, Your magical kiss electrifies my poor Soul, it soothes my dry tongue with your salivary honey, it satisfies my innate needs like money earnestly sought for to meet every set goal listed in a schedule of a lifetime’s needs.
Birds levitate and are airborne, Flapping wings soaring to the highest stratosphere, Flying into the blue yonder, Over snowcapped mountains, abutting the clouds, Flying, gliding, landing, so sublime Perching themselves in the tiny gap between other birds on a cable
Joy Slim, beautiful and humble Daughter of Felix & Angela, Sister to Tony She loves to sing, dance and play chess She feels Joyous, full of life & enthusiastic about life She is happy when helping the needy, in their
I saw her sitting at a table for one, her hands were slender as she grabbed a sesame bun, which was stuffed with three inches of smoked turkey, onion, tomato, lettuce and swiss cheese, opening her red-lipsticked mouth with ease,
The black beads set amidst the gold beads A jewellery, to be adorned eternally. Reminding us the promises we had made To keep the hearts, happy and hale… Amidst the feast, glitter, and flowers On a hustling, happening and upbeat
Tomorrow will the sun shine bright Its warm finger-like breath streaming through my windows Awakening into song birds nestled ‘neath the rafters Tonight will the moon glow as before Sharing its beauty and radiance A shy princess amidst starry glittering
Feeding me heroic tales I call drunken fiction, he is still pouring zinfandel down my throat gawking at me the same way he does gazing into the mirror Inching forward with lingering fingers, he pleads. Indifferent, I acknowledge. It’s a
I love thou not, o land of high hypocrisy, My country of the totalitarian democracy! I’d rather not hear thy people’s speech Or behold thy men’s disgraceful binge! I love thou not! If thou be a chariot, Old steeds are
It is full dark before 2:00 PM every day. temple bells ring in the streets for the dead the high chimes disturb the windless fall of ash. the planet had bellowed now it crouches still expecting another lash. we are
In the cobbled sunlight Cast by the filtered leaves She gazed fondly at him, Love apparent in her gaze He played with bushes, the grass Her watchful eye took in, ready For a loving pat, a reminding tap, To guide,
awake and lonely someone said Just look at me somewhere someone, is looking right at you, turned around wonder, who are you? he replied, its me moon awake Sad, alone for centuries, awe Sun leave, cerise. while afar. . .
A myriad of treasure wealth and pleasure Snagged by the Achille’s tendon Rounded up and Slaughtered for The Golden Apple of his eye Not the divine fruits of Her labor Trust the toss of bones Fall down ashes fall down
Searing in sunlight and dense in humid breath that uncomfortable nether-ground we ancesterally dashed across to escape the swift and sharp toothed now is a show of umbrellas and baking skin joy of wading into the delicious cool feeling sand
This fathomless free fall of hollowness This unceasing relentless devouring of happiness May it cut so meaningfully deep…. as deep as my heart once sang. For the wounds reflect an unyielding hope, untouchable memories, cherished moments. Ascent and descent ..
I have no hi-fi desire, To overcome the mountains. I have no hi-fi desire, To bring draught to the water filled oceans. I have no hi-fi desire, To tread beyond the dark clustered clouds. I have no hi-fi desire, To
Sore soul seeking for help, Thus before him, confess Bridges badly broken to carry on Oppressed mind through criticism Weaknesses to hinder positivity But, hope on Majority accounts no space for worthy Behind one’s back, they swear Fallen and rose
Rose for my love, the best that heaven owns, The fairest Earth could bloom beneath the skies, As tucked upon her hair instead of crowns, Bestows well what the lack of crowns denies; That wisp of cloudiness above her head,