Complaint poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of complaint poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on complaint are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
A brown cloud descends on charcoal sketch. Moonstruck, a blast begins. Marigold, beware: sun is going to hide behind the stings. The fang penetrates deep, in the breast of sleeping pride. A golden god melts in the arms of mercy.
I don’t remember What it was in that moment, That it all began. As if all that started Was on a sabbatical! And now that I know ‘now’, denouement is denied. Lurching and limping, from love to half-love. Scrounging for
A cold deserted alleyway, dark as a desolate grave, away off in the distance dogs howling their dismay. A winter wind is gathering, blowing old papers away, with tired forgotten faces and news of yesterday. Discarded cans and bottles clatter
Part 1 – Us A connection, telepathy sometimes. Cup of tea, cup of coffee. Helping hand, kind assurance. Pat on the back, kiss on the lips. You and me and complete loss of words. There’s something between us. A touch
I’ve lived in your heart for three years. My payments were always before time. If I made too much noise I assure you I didn’t know. My foot steps are often loud, the neighbor beside me keeps his music up.
My heart ached as his stopped. As if he didn’t know, His loss would cause me sorrow. Like rain melting drops of snow, He slipped from me. I will never forget his laughter, Precious memory that remained But gone is
It’s been almost a lifetime in gyrating spiraling flow Defying constant onslaught of getting pulled far below Each time tried resurfacing in a new vortex got caught Adding on presented misery to existing scene distraught Tired of repetitive challenges testing
Trees toss their canopies horses shaking their manes all the manmade arbor street signs, power lines each motion exaggerated in woeful orange glow we’re smashing pumpkins torching porches huffing spraypaint and praying for violent excitement cops chase blue flashers and
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
Messengers of God came To reform men All toiled hard to spread goodness and upbraid vices Generally they suffered and were agonized Noble minds believed and weak minds not So happened with the wit of every learned or enlightened person
Moon stepped gingerly on clouds. Apples were painless. Yes, centrifugal goes the truth on a ploy, unveiling the sky. Pain of the dreaded times, was visible through the invisible. Tremors in the mountain range were palpable passing through the spine
When the storm strikes, when the cold bites, when thirst is unquenched, when survival is at stake. deep in the world of loneliness, far away from love & happiness The mind a wild nomad, wandering here, there & everywhere. No
Weighed by the weight of emptiness lost in the loss of music withering rhythm plagued sunshine silenced voice feverish moonlight shivering chirp moaning rain crushed smell smokey eyes creaking breath coughing air wailing heart choked feeling burning soul join mourn
It’s like a bird limited by movements brooding later on love, feed, and flight, flight, flight. It’s like a fish swimming in a sea of habits forgetting self for few minutes of relishing self. It’s like the lord of forest
Do not take a vow of silence. Death will find its home. The circus has taken over the needles.Who will stitch the wounds of earth. A man walks into sunset carrying a bowl of tears. The sit-in was going to
For honour killing twilight adulates an abstract faith. Tainted? Now that mouth was shut and butterfly was pinned, will you grow the marigolds? The empty book was not breathing in a crowd of words. The bitter meaning had flown away.
She descends from en-suite and the balcony-shops, sways down the stairway, leather-mini concealing, sometimes revealing, lace stocking-tops; carries her bruises where nobody sees. In the hub of the foyer the faces are probing, sharp as the glare of the night-patrol’s
The problems she has are real soft fronds of fruiting vines lick up the tears from her forehead each wonders which is upside right earlier she was harried into the rental car wishing only to idle but parents have a
Making promises is his habit Violating is his nature Traits make one like him Why then the feelings capture. Recoiling of impatient intestines Swings of heart, jumps of spirits Chest throbbing with impatience Is the specific poser that hurts? For
Imagine Israeli and Palestinian children given flowers, roses, and peace signs To take home to their parents as gifts of love and freedom. Imagine smiling at them and learning of The future they have in store for more Balanced communities
”I sojourn in your vibrant world, Mr. Ahmed Of dulcet melodies and wafting aromas The paintings adorning your house forlorn Are as soothing as the breezes of the morn I met your mates, your benevolent friends Savoured their enchanted, beguiling
Past, past and gone past Do they ever anything cast? They do. They mould. They shape, they truly cast The actions of present And advent future To be or not to be To abide or glide. Comers will be coming
When silence chides, When loneliness deserts, When faith betrays, When failures succeed, When smiles shed tears, When dreams turn nightmares, When shadow is bodiless, When speech is wordless When pride becomes a shame When voids of heart become hollow When
We clear up lands of forest primeval Only to plant new ones for survival; Leaders scheme to modernize their nation Others hold back, crying conservation; Settlers would get land appropriations While natives move into reservations; We dig canals, but cover
With luggage full of dreams, The journey seems to start. A vivid map to a destination, Engraved in the traveller’s heart. It takes a part of the journey To realize that the map is fake; Deceived by his own thoughts
The whistle blows to sound the charge and over the top they bustle and barge, covered from head to toe in mud and soon tainted with flesh and blood. Up the ladder with slippery rungs, a scream of rage from
the pillows sleep on me like cats every night this room contains a brand new constellation pinpricks of technology winking as if blocked by orbiting children regular visitors and on the wall a creamy veil where the curtains don’t reach
I am afraid of my incompleteness! The part of me, which is still human, Is afraid of the dark loneliness. Is afraid of the lofty dilemmas Of life, love and death. Relationships, lust and their worth. I am the Hamlet
It started with us the two of us, involving everyone around us, We dream to share the love within We dare to become one, keeping in mind each others priorities first, We wish to live with the spirit and guide
We drowned ourselves in endless g&ts The glorious bounty of Wednesday happy hour Bathed in the light of hipster patio lighting And the faint smell of last night’s campfire So smoky I couldn’t feel your hand holding mine Our intention