Ceremonial poems bring the best collection of short and long ceremonial poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great ceremonial rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these ceremonial poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on ceremonial are here for you.
Ceremonial Rituals in Hindu Religion smacks the logic Daughters and Sons though born in the same womb are differentiated Son’s carry the paternal ancestral legacy while Daughters are abandoned midway to assume In laws legacy Sons may not look after
I write from the soul Yeah I am the corner stone They disowned A lion with an elephant’s heart, so misunderstood Whatever pain life brought I withstood So I am dressed up looking real photogenic It’s not schizophrenic I am authentic
For human face of death umbilical cord need not extend. The darkness takes care of unblemished ghost of sun. Intergalactic scan remains unseared, trench warfare continues unabashedly. Between brothers, the greed calls for incendiary attacks, for total annihilation. To achieve
Arrest this lament this false flag of endeavor star eyes at elsewhere parachute of the midnight aplomb splendor soils christened by an exorama defouled by a parasite cancel who are you in the liturgy of night? nameless index of heathen
There once was a pink pig named Horton Who decided it was time to go courtin’ He surveyed the pen, and picked a sweetie named Gwen Snorted Horton let the mating begin Horton bellied on up to his quarry Twixt
I could see him leave, leaving me alone. I weep and cry, not showing it at all. I think about him, every minute, every second, every moment. Where is he now? I wonder… Has he found someone better, than me?
You are a lovely girl, Someone as beautiful as a pearl. Hidden behind that timid, shy and reserved attitude, Is someone so opposite to her solitude. You wait for that one chance, Where you can take your life’s better glance.
My room was the old garage attached to the house festooned with posters and dirty underpants my father’s Mercedes was a sacred relic with a flavor of old leather upholstery. It rested in its own building. there must have been
I want to be free like music. Free like soft tones, melodies, voices, and patterns pulsating together. I want to wake up freed by music in mornings when the mind is slowly, steadily, waking up. I want to be free
I am a man with an Unreservedly positive frame of mind. Knowing that frames are fatefully important As matter and metaphor. I wear shirts chiefly made of roomy pockets Trope for optimism And space for the melange of likelihoods, On
Lying in the dark, Waiting for the light. The sun never rose, And the days intertwine. The void that grows, Gets wider all the time, And I’m lying here, Waiting, waiting for you. You, You are my light, You are
A fat island burns under a looming sun. Bleeding rays will enter your eyes to see the blundering world. The gods were melting down looking at the corpses of faltering orchids, spread out at the feet of a white blaze.
A felled tear reflects the rainbow. I wait for the night. Moon had promised an audience. Yes, I will sit beside the moon, will tell the woes of earth, uncomplaining: the heat, the dust, the life needles and expressionless faces
Sunshine haze over milky blue Ocean reflects white horses rolling wave Sea gulls squawk as they glide on warm winds effortlessly, above the port were boatmen slave Splendour azure skies trapping the contours of forests, behind cliffs tallest and brave
On a hollow path you had failed carrying the loaves of bread in biting cold of politics scaring the lips. I was standing near the dawn in praise of dark. The sharks were coming. Here goes the marble floor for
The longer I listen the longer it intrigues The very sound of my voice never disagrees The longer I walk the better my knees The very movement and vigour keeps me physically pleased The longer I concentrate the longer my
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
I was but a soldier in a trench in Northern France It sat upon a meadow where the lovely poppies danced. The skies above were cloudless clear a perfect colour blue And cornflowers on the meadow danced beside the poppies
(1) At ‘Bab Al-nairab gate’,(1)on a pile of wet smoke, I meet a sackcloth, a muddy bear fur and two women; one holds by her amputated palm the tail of ‘Sayf Aldawla’s(2) robe, the other sings a rocky song. The
You know that sickening stench that comes from a corpse girdled to a steel gurney as, slowly the morbid form degrades and still waits for that last living cell to give in, to wear out or may be just dissected
Sometimes you cry. And that’s okay. It doesn’t make you weak. It never means you’re frail. It means you’re strong… Stronger than they know. Sometimes you have to let some bad out to make room for more strength. And, my
The lost soldier; He used to be a family’s shoulder Things happened that made him colder And act like a boulder Looking older Than his age Caused by rage And the many phases And stages Of his life The many
She knows how I feel, She know that its real..! But fate knows it better, Of what it has to cater..!! Chaos reigns in this love, Circumstances written from above..! We hope to change it, But dare not disrupt it..!!
Friends They pretend Few Remains a true When glad Celebrates! In mourn Fakes the concern Deep inside They call a toast Cheers if she grin Grin if she’s sick They mourn and tell It’s okay, all is well In their
Feathery snow on tree bough gently shades, the closing dark, wind through silent oak, shadow’s stretch reaching o’er the twilight glades an ever constant curdling chill evoke! Frozen cheek, bitter cold and deadly still lest fear betray the haven of
When I started to open my eyes in wonder I could see nothing but my mother fair For me feeding, bathing, sleeping ,and loving Like a goddess who is blissful in tending Me ,a tender plant to grow into a
When man mortal with a title Becomes vile and self righteous He walks around with the Bible Holy acts and all sacrilegious Carrying LBGQT rainbow banners Hailing the devil’s temporal empire Accomplished false pretenders Adorned in bright priestly attire Those
May Time and Love as One Wait upon You! Hoard neither love nor time! Stashed away, A year of love, night or day, Ain’t worth a dime! Nor fritter either as ceremonies But as memories Lived of former moons and
Otherworldly, tactile retraction of rainbows, from the eyes of believers. Detachment of restless mind at twilight, pot starts boiling. Sundowning, a paranoia takes over, you suffer a childhood near the pyre. Thing is not a thing exclusive of an extremist,
you enter the lair again dun – colored shrapnel was on your lips to hear your truth I lay down the book and look beyond the acid rain falling after the explosion the yellow flames still lapping against the crater
As I walk this road Down campus life In perpetual mode Will I be a wife? Bitter roads ahead Made of highs and lows’ Hanging out with friends Throwing little blasted blows Dare I write a book Or graduate Give
Might the legends be true? Or merely an imagined ado? Could it be more than a myth? Might it actually exist? Encased in glass, Perfectly preserved From decades past, Rarely observed. Black as the night, Lined with gray, Quantum technology
Worship and glorify Jesus With Praises and songs Praises to raise our voices To worship and sing songs To honor the Lord Awesome and glorious Beautiful and always the King Of our Salvation who watches Protecting the ones who look
In the silence of the blue ocean tides, As the water sweeps on the sea rides I feel you are with me; holding my hands, Walking slowly along the cold wet sands, Knowing that one fine dawn we shall meet.