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
I’ll just stay here, Looking at the clock… Watching as it ticks, Its way second by second, To wherever we are… Because you hurt me then, And you hurt me often… But I will just smile today, Because everything is
The minute that you meet her she will tell you she is ill She keeps all her medication upon her windowsill And I have to say It makes a fine display Her grandchildren are fascinated by their colours, shapes and
There is no moon. The quite surrounds us. The sound of a footstep Floats across the wire. We hear noises when dark. Nothing to fear, need to relax. Frank want’s to know, Did I hear a noise? Knock it off
t Happiness descends on me Seeing floating clouds in the sky Flying birds fascinate me Seems with them as if I fly. Flapping wings of butterfly Are soporifically gratifying Seems with them As if I am merrily gliding. Bubble-bees humming
Night, oh playwright, to the soul’s loneliness I quest every line, beneath your cover One to recite, for heart’s harmonious So my part may be played — with another But stages, — life — dropped her encore curtain How heavied
blemish of the needle in eye spreads: do you still see the moon in the hills, outstripping the aura of midnight? resilient, waiting for a renaissance, for a finger on the lips in dark, to read the symptoms, feeling floral
The Fermi Paradox: Where is everyone? The Universe is nearly 14 billion years old say those in the know. Enough time to populate our galaxy they say! But is this really so? The elements in our bodies where created in
A seven gun salute for CHINUA A star among stars The big tree has fallen But nature I blame For such a blunder. I know you look down Up there Your footprint still draws breath Yesterday your legacy I saw
As light raindrops pat mildly on my hair, Reminding of the April drizzles felt; A heavier pour could drench in disrepair, Romantic strolls to fizzle or to melt; We watched torrents pelt our favorite tree, To gush off the boughs,
Now nearly at the cusp of finding logic to the dare With expended all vigor and resources in despair Past forte banked upon has since proven wrong Head though persistent heart tells to move along Most of earlier envisaged is
He’s wearing his zippered sweatshirt backwards, his blanket looks like carpet padding and if he didn’t have legs it wouldn’t surprise or if he suddenly melted and flowed into the gap between bus and sidewalk leaving behind the whisper he
Transient is the word am neither here nor there don’t feel this nor that neither cold nor warm. Traversing through the spectrum and yet not latching on, bygones are bygones learning to look forward. Nothing to look back at caught
‘I’ve lived through this horrible hell with you’ he yelled, as he accused her, once again, of not trusting him. Trstu, she thought, Was subjective. Trstu, she believed, worked both ways. Watching him in anguish, she realized – her version
Brush strokes like living sun Windows as high as creation Gray blue walls reflect the light Cafes of art on the Riviera St Tropez, Nice, Monaco Renoir moves to South of France Chagall sees flower angels Rainbow Mediterranean Sea Rouen
I saw a mocking bird upon a tree, alone, chirping a tune the skill of imitation bore he as it sang amid the gloom. Children played in the fields adults conversed freely, but of the bird in the broken still
Life is all about trust, And using the right path to fulfill your lust. Life is all about giving your best, And training yourself so that you don’t rust. Life is all about setting your own principles and rules, And
You start abbreviating the pretention, caring for the end of a perennial revenge – of slain truth, finding depth in arguments which will spawn more violence. Come my friend, come. Sit with me. Let us search together the solitary death
Dark cloud looming. Moving slowly. But it’s there. Creeping in front of the sun’s path, dimming the light, inch by inch. Will it settle? Will it stay? Will it slide on by and keep on it’s way? Is there rain
(Allegro) Wedding bells. Ringing outside the parish. On top of a lonely hill Introduced by a small decent white-sand path Surrounded by neat green grass, Overlooking a deep silent river With waters reflecting the sky Just as my heart reflects
As fast as the night approaches, Some strings within me, Are cruelly stretched.. Making it difficult for me, To survive the night.. Like the night is drowning me, And I’m suffocating.. In this, Muddy, dirty, stinky water, In air.. Absurd,
The sky is aglow with last rays On altitudes twilight lingers late And saffron clouds hang like lanterns In the vast dusky firmament So deep and gloomy are my thoughts But not in the net of melancholy caught I might
At point highest clouds appear and glide along Locks to climb mouths to bathe in beckon a broken soul Asses astride caution in mind the journey of bumps bundles along Excited at first exhausted at last mile First source of
In a school of murder a hub of terror survives. An acid attack on face captures the contradictions of first nervous countdown. Step aside my truth, my tears are under siege. The schizophrenic will draw a landscape of falling earth.
Walking along this isolated path again, Treading heavily on those pavements once more; The Eternal Stream has had it slain. The rocks and pebbles have withered away along this shore. In ruins,are those hamlets far away. Desolated are those fields
Give me some time to live, with the possibility of oscillating between temporal and spiritual feel. I have already exhausted my age behind the spiked doors. I was longing to meet myself today, to find the throw back. Which of