Celebrations poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of celebrations poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on celebrations are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Once my husband brought a pair of white pigeons, Very beautiful with red eyes and lush red beaks. Extremely gorgeous with glorious visions, In our mother tongue we call it Laqa-kabootar. A special species of sweet white pigeons, In golden
It is that time again for all we have lost to be regained and our weaknesses to be strengthened and bent choices to be straightened. Come join me, let us rejoice make your choice because life is what we make
“A young, bubbly lass once I saw, Tall, dusky and a charming smile she wore. Like all little girls, she waited in anticipation, Of a handsome young man, Who’d love her like no one. Her little follies he would overlook,
Trying to follow truth his journey was nightmarish. Alchemic fusion with past and future failed – his bowl was still empty. In the inner space a largesse, free of present, becomes the pain of perfection! Now what to do next?
A queer experience it is A feeling that defies description An emotion beyond expression Giving a daughter away , you don’t know how to name it . Is it a sense of self appreciation at having performed a parental duty
On birth, crying makes our entry On death, silence marks our exit In between our birth and death turmoils all the while exist We celebrate Birthday with pomp and excitement Trauma of life preceding the birth day are kept in
There is a woman I love, I call her my sister We spent only two years, little time together Yet, as the time passed we grew closer On the first day in hostel, a late night conversation Soon turned into
Smudged on the horizon, Beneath the uncaring gray clouds, Farewell of the year Fireworks set out, And the ink drips down to nothingness. Life goes on. But pain has the gift of rekindling, And heart is it’s faithful torchbearer –
Friend, not a companion but one who understands. Years, distance and time does not come between us. How pleasant are our sparse reunions. You’ve comforted, have always been there for me. Not only in my hour of need but also
Life appears routine during normal times routine changes to celebrations on festivals routine may turn into agony on death routine may suddenly appear monstrous on set backs routine may feel soothing on day of disturbances routine may look un harmful
The crowd buzzed like a hornet’s nest The cacophony too loud The girl on stage was all alone Staring beyond the crowd The colours around All red and yellow meant to reflect The bridal glow Spectators sitting Speculations were rife
Are angelic neurons fleshing inside a trans-Inquisition tavern? Another kind of speaking, pontificating globe? Can we feel the burning and sexing of the four seasons with the four elements, recycling earth, water, air, fire, to produce the quintessence of your
Let us go then, you and I… Let us go then… Tired? Surprisingly, we have been saying this a hundred years. It haunts. The hallucination continues. No, it leap-frogs. Eliot was dead before I was born, before we were born.
Gazing through the swirling fog; the cloying mists of time, hoping to see the ones I love, before the clock’s cold chime. Beyond the final curtain; the call of a tolling bell, what destiny awaits me as shadows fall over
I have figured what is eternity, In longing, and boring hours of a day, Eternity could be anxiety, In half-second before a kiss would lay; Could love be measured in eternities? Does love subtract from life for lack of it?
In love I learned a thousand ways to comfort this world, smiled and hugged blew kisses so warm , built inn and held caravan so long , brew tea, wrote words alive played music as every fibre of my being
Effervescent is the youth Making a merry recall Innocent is the child Seeking treasure in all Placid is the thought When I stare in oblivious Wind whispers tenderly Wet sand my feet caress Waves lash to and fro Making
pick me up i drag my corpse once again back to the ground gravity, why are you greedy? hay and lilac grass i want to sleep peacefully to put it bluntly i crash and sleep momentum shifts and careless lips
A piece of glass shattered distorted on the floor A form no longer but pieces of what was once before A person would be dead if he broke but you wouldn’t be sure A slow process of gathering information to
My life was a bit of a calamity, I was on a loosing spree, nothing I could foresee, thinking, is this it for me? Then flash a glimpse of Infinity. Still, I wad walking a tightrope, head hanging down, I
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
Familiar looks, manners in sync, A slight acquaintance, a familiar hello, A warm smile and the mischievous wink, In you I see my good old fellow. Late nites and Long chats, Discussing life as it passed through, Somewhere amid those
There are no crows by that side of the road just dust and debris from the long-fallow field and that legless marionette hanging from a frame it never seems to age, its expression unchanging a glint of oversized eyes, vicious
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
Been climbing every mountain And crossing every stream Been dreaming of this pleasant land And of things I’ve never seen Been hanging onto cliff tops Been wobbling on the bridge Been stuck in every canyon And jammed in every ridge
Being Alive is to feel the breath…that cannot be felt after the death… Being Alive is to feel yourself beyond the senses…that capture your spirit in all the instances… Being Alive is to feel the real you…feeling the consciousness, pruning
The dazzling star went through me. I was undemanding from dusk to dusk hurting myself, not anybody. Time to meet my twin, to set the black on orange. My guilt, my fear, my foreboding. Let go off, my sap in
It isn’t easy living on the nose of a moose. Especially, if the big brute is charging Through the spruce. You must think quick,when Mr. Moose decides to Drink. “Mr Moose,” tries to drown me each time. “Mr Moose”Forces his
I cherished and cherished and cherished you Every moment dreaming of you As they say in the ad; Eat, drink and sleep you Every waking moment You stalked me Every living moment Day and night and evening I tried hard
I don’t just reside under your bed. Don’t you dare escape me, I’m inside your head. My eyes are on you, I crave your blood. My soul is burning, My greed may flood. Trick or treat? I’m impossible to beat
There goes a blazing trail of lightning across the deep indigo, starless, Australian night sky. I am momentarily startled by the dissonance of the rumbling thunder, playing drums in my ears. Driving past the long, steep road lined with bottlebrush