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.
The mindless monsters of darkness have bared their faces in naked daylight; With the poison of wasps in their bleeding lips, they have concealed their hate under the tattered veils of empty religion. These ravenous wolves have thumped through a
His soft smile a spike testing the blind ledge of her as-yet unlined forehead. she saw it in every stranger’s face even in the reflection of her wide brown eyes as they considered the amber lens at the bottom of
Today, go undivine with me and remain untouched, in dwindling love of faith. A forerunner of nothingness in a theological mess, breaking the mirrors in a slaughter house, finding a god. Collecting ruins of sounds, veils, traversing the fecundity of
The Storm was fierce with deadly winds that pointed to a farmland, that once was filled with life, and love, a farmer’s precious homeland; but droughts had hit and done their deeds, and things began to die, and all the
Like a stingray it stung me tonight the new moon. A live flame lobbing the sparks. The seduction had bypassed the sleezy love of white egrets. When are you going to make a history by failing to fall? Can I
first I woke the birds clumsy steps on crumbling asphalt it was the antidepressants an undiagnosed chemical stroke my mood uplifted my right foot dragging on occasion tripping over carpet or in this case turd-black pebbles clattering waking hidden birds
Birth is possible only on union of couple Fossils grow only in mother’s womb An infant sucks only the mother’s milk Boats can sail only on water Vehicles can move only on land Living beings can walk only on breathing
I never know my children, once delivered they’re yours. Nurture and protect them, absolve them of all flaws. I am just a donor, casting seeds upon the leaves. Your perception filters any growers from the weeds. I present these gifts
Hail New Year ! The guest most honoured And welcomed with utmost cheer Around the world, everywhere ! With houses and homes all lit up And vibrant floral decors Sweet music floating in the air Mingling with laughter and cheer
The grey-haired die of hunger, the children’s’ store full of food, While still breasting, death snatches her mom, She faces the wrath of her step-mother, what crime is she paying for? While still nurturing her infant, the shadow snatches her
Modern calculations Life complications Are not real Illusions, no facts There is no deal Nature wisely reacts. Created equal Within a cycle Inferior, no one is Superiority is a fake mental buzz Sharing, freedom and respect Of individuality is my
True love knows no pain…love Is a rare and precious thing and Has no chains…true love is the Dream of dreams and love to me Means never having to be lonely Doing whatever it takes to make That one special
Open twenty four seven proclaims the sign across the front door A warm refuge for the bergies dossing on the linoleum floor Fluorescent tube lights hum and flicker The homeless beg for food and hustle for cheap liquor The air
Something is hurting inside me Ripping my soul in two Its never right. Never wrong Its the way of things. Why? Why does this have to happen? I feel something. Breaking apart. Falling apart. It’s hurtful. Its not going away.
Last night the long stretch dream seemed so real I felt stranger in the morn’ going through the ordeal Those wood, those mountains, those valleys so steep All looked so near for the touch, feel and my keep And now
Through out time he dreamed of becoming a king Who would have all of the finer Things in this realm as he progressed And developed he would Finally close his palm to Realize his dreams And visions had finally evolved
There was existence, without space. I was afraid of my unborn child. Inheriting the stammer of history I could not think of any brand abuse. On the contrary, fumes throw you off the road. Full moon rising on the cleft.
Perhaps a word of encouragement, for you is overdue Perhaps it’s not my job, to try to comfort you Just know that in this moment, my intentions are for good But my intentions rarely work out, the way that I
Indeed a wondrous joy of having come to face With other two of trio and past again retrace Been nearly a lifetime since last we ever met Earlier amity still active with old bonding beset Was all about curiosity of
Fearing the haze of ending this body does not behave now. Puppet show was over. Punch – drunk we move amidst the psychopaths, who were foraging the aroma from armpits. Loincloths hanging on the strings to strangle the pigeons. Everything
One aqueous night I dream We are pure water in a rill; Sashaying down a frilly hill We sinuate in one stream. In a lowly bed of translucent Sand, the moon’s up crescent Runneth over; we fill her up That