Complexity poems bring the best collection of short and long complexity poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great complexity rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these complexity poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on complexity are here for you.
Some say less is really more, or is it more is really less. I believe both to be true. The future screams towards us faster every day. The pace and complexity of life quickens. Technology more pervasive. The human psyche
” If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.” —Carl Sagan It’s all in there, waiting, just waiting in the time before time, the universe, our universe, packed unimaginably tight, indistinguishably tight,
A man’s choice for imperfect specialty Devoid a woman’s continued quest for security Likewise the two waters in diversity. He believes compromise leads to serenity To the long-haired nothing but a fallacy Then why do the waters co-exist in harmony?
I, the most perfect syllable in the world. It encapsulates me and all that is mine And all that I perceive or have perceived, All that I encountered or experienced, the Totality of my existence and its meaning To me
Will the Twenty First Century be the end for Homo Sapiens? Can human minds and psyches stand up to the speed of change being metered out? Today, we make more decisions in a day than were made one hundred years
How I chose to live my life. I’m wired at birth, my personality in place. I’m sculpted as a youth my environment had its say. The combination of both molded me as artists molds clay. With all this in place
We live in a universe of subatomic particles, the building blocks of everything else. All we can see and touch is made up of the stuff. Even in the seemingly empty void of space science tells us virtual particles pop
I watch the world go by, From my position at its periphery, I ask each day, For a sign, a message, Something to turn the senseless into the meaningful. My thoughts turn inward, My being aches with the pain of
Where do they come from? The brain is complex, of that there’s no doubt. Neurons, synapses, dendrites and axions, all woven together to make up our brain Somehow, from this complex mess we emerge, our consciousness our mind, all this
What does it look like? What does it sound like? How does it read? Is there beauty in mathematics? Are physics formulations beautiful? Is artistic beauty in all its forms discovered or created? Did Newton invent his mathematics or did
The clouds compete, the sky gate The sun shouts, the moon waits! Tasted a bit of sweet success Gleaned through eyes, like a bird that left its nest! An aroma never sniffed, billowing from up top The trees stand stiff,
Glistening and glimmering, the stars do shine Scattering forth their beams divine Their light, not bright, yet a mystical sight Blessing the earth on this cool breezy night A prelude to a bright new day Slowly and silently comes a
When honeycomb started dripping, he stopped eating and climbed a sand dune for the last journey.Pall-bearers were ready for blunt futurism ceding to a deliberate defeat. Hunger was his turbulent empire, resting his hands on the shoulders of rocked time
Amongst these thriving shadows, Those shades cimmerian, My aspirations turn to ashes. Multitudes of darkness, Ascend. My hope dying in it’s wake, This darkness assumes itself. In this perpetual mourning, This anguish, This butcher of souls, Slays. Unassailable ordeals, Absolve.
Curled up in the blanket of dim-light hours, Shadows overreach, closing the gap of every enclosing hour. The gentle waft that had me swoon , Drew me into a cup of steaming brew, Lips damp with the brush of froth,
I am a nomad of thousand unsettled dreams. a leaning tower of tortoises approaching to my shore to lay their eggs of pain and prickles. a seagull fetched her paranoiac food from my bleeding liver . let me sleep on
A hesitant day for fat men and old women moving cautious but still slamming out the door and like infidels calling down a brace of ice spears exposed necks and those rounded shoulders so tender overloaded bodies knocked down stunned
I recognized the vitriol. There was blood on your hands. The invisible was burning in dark. This was the black moon and this was the alienation. An animal climbs on your shoulders. It goes on and on. Was it the
Someone dropped a gun in the crowd – it clattered like candy garish glare of night-time marquees scent of every onion in the world sautéing adults walking on, a mobile forest of legs intent on getting somewhere doing something a
Lessons and learnings exist in stories and tales ; in trees and flowers ; in oceans and whales ; But to no avail, Till we realise life does not move from milestone to milestone, But crawls through challenges and daily
Trying to keep myself sane; lost in choosing between two lovers Just like someone telling me to choose an easier death; suicide or murder I’m unconscious trying to figure out my right piece Lost in between two characters I am
Dear Pain, Thank You……………….. For holding me in your soft hands when the mundane world ditched me, For caressing my untouched soul when the crooked world shot poison leaded arrows at me, For standing with me and facing the brunt
Who closes the curtain? Sometimes a crazy wind. Who is paths washes? Rain is often. Sometimes tears,my darling. Why extended the night? Why want to sleep? Tired hearts. Sometimes dreams brings our desire Questions ends when? Who knows? You don’t
Photo by The Cleveland Kid I must admit, I have a good life. I go to a good college, I have pretty good grades, And every day I can look forward To socialising with my many friends, Talking about whatever
“I am pure blue-blood”, said he, “as pure as it can get.” of the tall, fair, handsome varieties. Twice over I despised him but managed but a smile, as he deviously managed to convey his derision for us darker-skinned commoners.
Midnight in the Rose Garden, in the shadow of the moon’s Shadow well, I retrace the paths we used to walk back to That moon-flower covered two storey gazebo…I climb the Stairs again to the top that overlooks the deep
Come Naga, come: from the scented tree and spread out your hood. I will pull you down on my lips One day. Classical porn, Neanderthal. In your stark nakedness I wanted an asylum. A place guiltless, hands blackened, moony face,
When I flew into a storm my words collided with thunder and stars fell on ashes of dead. I wanted to scream. Seeking a freeze on past.Future was stretching its arms. A calling.Erratic explosions? The ruins were becoming worthy of
I see a future of war And evil dissent Of poverty and famine And dark discontent A world descended Into desolate gloom All joy and laughter Chased out of the room I see helpless children Lining wasted streets Tattered, just
Something was not polite in signs. The smell of incarcerated bed of gods was floating down. A subdued shadow of the black moon was climbing on the window. And each house had offered a son, to rage a war of