Beliefs poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of beliefs poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on beliefs are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
…are as varied as they are inconsequential. All struck on a speck of a place, in a speck of time. Our very evolution built on infinitesemly small terrain. All that we think, all of the great contributions like so many
Part I Has the spring of poetry faded away? In a deluge of falling leaves, When the shadows and lights are at play, Like transient doubts and beliefs. Have words become faceless apparitions, Gazing into the boundless night, At ancient
I believed I was free, Then I learned of norms, Of perceptions about me. Traditions held me back, Where my spirits soared, Turning my soul so black. Love came with shackles, An inheritance of beliefs, Trapped in social tentacles. They
“So finally, he got talking, As if his patience had succumbed. The one who’s closest to me, Well, on a physical level, for sure; against whom I press my cheek. Who I’ve spent innumerable nights with. Sometimes, he brings along
I refuse to follow you. I refuse to borrow your words, your ideas, your beliefs. Limiting preachings of fragmented minds. I refuse to follow you. I refuse to adopt your meanings, interpretations, definitions. Confining parameters, conditioning. I refuse to follow
Did wise men from the Buddhist east Worship the child Jesus as messiah? If so, may not fungible god or fungi yeast Raise dough over the same fire? Was it reincarnated lama or messiah The Magi come thus far to
As my days feel longer and my brittle bones begin to weaken, I drift like the sea, a spark dampened, my mind a dimming beacon. My legs are shaken and my fingers start to tremble, My thoughts are twisted influenced
It all seems important until someone doesn’t remember the squabbling plans of a coven of third grade girls to torment a classmate each with a thick red pencil sharpened for poking each put together as glossy as a nine-year old
Open the door and usher in some light watch the dismal darkness fade away. Question your sorrow, your beliefs, ponder what was good, forget the bad. Bury the visions that haunt you, they are but ghosts of time gone by.
On your face the shadow of a transparent wound bungles the capricious climate of the death of a thought which you could not carry very far. And that was all when I asked you some questions about life. You started
Much of withstanding endurance reflects strain Practically on outer edge for challenge to sustain Intricate arduous trudge sans time out for recess Blend though near perfect but outcome can’t assess Peaks few, abyss aplenty and many a shifty bend None
People fascinate me With their colourful qualities. People frighten me With their capacity for cruelty. People inspire me Indicating a world of beauty. People make me feel love. Some make me bow; For their know how. People enrich my life,
We live amongst a sea of façades, Of faces gone faceless and drowning In beliefs that we, the fallen angels Have somehow, some way become Gods. We live in a world where on city streets Litter becomes its own kind
Zimbabwean by birth, Zimbabwean by color, Zimbabwean by beliefs, Zimbabwean by culture, Bred a Zimbabwean, I love Zimbabwe! I love peace! I love unity! Ishe Chibvunza If Zimbabwe could recall that eventful day in 1980 at Lancaster House, I bet
Nothing was beholden. Colony counts were perfect. You were never guaranteed and exit. I am stalked by lips of a black tulip holding a moonbeam. The world moves wearing a shell of emptiness in a cosmos, inviolable. Aggrandizement beyond the
She was too smart to be herself Too feeble to live for her own She kept her dreams locked in her closet They kept sulking and dying Dejected, in their own cocoon. In every ruin, she found her castle Each
It’s been 20 Years since I first picked up my plume to pen a few poems. It’s gone by extremely fast Like a spaceship off to Mars It’s been an interesting journey, a loving joyful one Unexpected extravangances belied purest
What is truth? We live our lives being told what is true. Truths in science fall by the wayside when new “truths” are discovered. But, how true are they? Religions will tell you their truths. Problem is few agree. So
I’m a prisoner -A prisoner of my mind. I can’t be free. I can’t be me. Locked in by anxiety, interrogated by insecurity, and depression is barricading the door. With no room to breathe, I can feel my lungs collapse
In the cavernous mind a thought becomes redundant. You go straight for a snakeroot. A flat cluster of white flowers spurs a stigma at the white moon for floating rumors. This was my native pain of brilliant tapestry. The threads
This was a raw thing. A paranoid template for AK-47 rifles. The homemade bombs were planted on the roadside. A very explosive blend of a fedayeen. You cannot take it anymore this jihad. In everyday life inside comes out in
One sunny afternoon, I coiled in the grass, and later wriggled my way through the woods. Though scaly and limbless I am, yet uniquely created and outstanding amongst beasts. My charming rhythmic movement caught the attention of the hunter, who
Movement spurts the truth- an endless journey. The constant search for beliefs creates confusion. Craving and wanting generates more conflicts. The meaningless life drifts. Can you go beyond your dreams, beyond your yearnings? I wanted to disagree with death the
We are born into an unknown world. Slowly we learn as we go. Taught by those who came before. Who in turn we’re taught By those who came before. Generation after generation passing knowledge forward. Knowledge differed region by region.
People never trusted On my potential, I had none but myself Who had a conviction That someday such a poetry would come Through me That will just reverse the thought process Of the world. People have forced me To change
What do you believe and why do you believe it? Our world has shaped who we are physically and spiritually. We are different colors, speak different languages and have different gods based on where we were born. The accident of
Dare to question madness, valiant, ever courageous, interrogate absurdity, what you find vexatious. Never refuse to face unyielding resistance, stay true to your beliefs, remain ever consistent. If there is a price to pay for the right of knowledge, and
This poem is dedicated to the twenty one Egyptian martyrs who were kidnapped by the (ISIS) in Libya and slaughtered in cold blood. Their mothers were waiting , their families were crying their souls were sighing they were worried about
You’re lingering when the rain falls after a spell of dry that calls Give me the sweet scents when you hit the ground just like those scenes tied me around You’re the only memory that I can remember when my
Sorrow & comfort, Opposite extremes. Wisdom invites each soul to those scenes. Terms of life are never all kind, riddled with strife, leave achieves behind. Highest expressions Can make one so tall, But unbridled grief will cause one to fall.