Conspiracy poems bring the best collection of short and long conspiracy poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great conspiracy rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these conspiracy poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on conspiracy are here for you.
The fear is creeping inside with every single step I take Seems like everyone is going to hurt and their sympathies are fake With broken dreams and a heavy heart, I still hope to find solace Though in the past,
She builds booby traps from paper clips And ration cans while her GI lover Blows smoke rings But around here a confession constitutes A conviction even if your mouth is full of gold And yet she admits to nothing But
Far away in a world of my own, lost and can’t be found Gone in a moment with the wind,top speed, heading for a brick wall A war in my mind as I try to unwind with a bottle of
Winter has the taste of melancholy; my window puts on a cloak of glass, wraps its face with a shawl of lead and drops cold tears, each time universe shrinks. (2) Migrant birds have a travelling homeland in sky and
After a peek into the world news, I will start asking many questions to myself in the dialect of hurling petrol bombs that, how many names of a god are valid in my poor dictionary of past truths? I start
(1) In old time, Before the sun stopped circling around us; Before it started to work as a painter of our shadows and the shadow of time over place; Before it adopted the hobby to boil sand inside a vessel
When given a deep thought a certain realization hovered over my head. …truly everything happens for a reason, a reason that sometimes may be an unknown illusion, sometimes the things we curse and at times something that overwhelms us to
We see good and evil in our world. To make sense of it great myths of the light and the dark have been born. Great stories down through the eons have flowed, great battles fought, forever being told. Gods in
My nails chowed down and raw from the fear of a life that I have not really lived, a life without purpose. A cigarette sits between my lips, holding it between my fingers as if every drag I take will
Singing about twinkle of the stars, Asking the black sheep for wool, Reading about spider making webs, I wish those days could come back again. In middle school had the first crush, When she would come around I would blush,
Walking in, the bedroom smelled earthy and human a fog of earwax hovering over the thin, crumpled pillow gray-green unwashed sheets. there were no posters taped to the dark paneling that ate the light and hung like poisoned chocolate. there
Can anybody say Who is he or she? Son or daughter of someone, Brother or sister of someone, Friend or enemy of someone, Spouse of someone, Father or mother of someone, Servant or master of someone. Is it the real
I feel so lost today amidst the people I know should I give up now or should I strive to grow? Again caught I am in this never ending dilemma put my papers today or concede to the official dogma
The days are given , The nights are spent , Things changed and went . The blind mind , Finds no wind , As never it anchored on God , But sense -pleasure and wealth to hoard . How the
Under the gaze of bald beliefs a warped dialect becomes a squeezer. Helplessly I watch the slashing of my wrists. Darkness burns, without light only intense heat. The expected miracle digs in around, in trenches of my knees. I become
In this blood-watered land forms flow fluid as serpent becomes lizard, lizard becomes turtle, turtle become cicada, cicada becomes sea urchin, becomes sacred owl with onyx eyes In this soul-fed land fugitive figures fuse into each other, my breath becomes
I am taking part in a race-the rat race Where all that matters are marks and grades And all I gain is unnecessary tension. I am clueless when you ask me to apply my knowledge For what I have learned
They say words are powerful, Coz they are both helpful and harmful. Kind words are inspirational, But unkind are no motivational. Words have power to inspire you, They light a spark that no one can do. Words make you cry
I keep my eyes searching for the light under the shade. Hear that? It bellows like the clock. “Come to me,” “It is time.” Please understand that I can’t enter this grotto alone. My experiences seem so few. You can’t
Twilight town A black gown Gray eyes with a blue sky but a slight frown Brown hair. Greasy as if colored by a crayon The crown fell down. It can’t be found. A loss of hope A tree with a
Mother always called me the devil child She said I was loud, destructive and wild Parents told sister I was bad and she didn’t ever have to play with me Much time alone was no fun, however for friends I
Haven’t I told you my eyes, To refrain yourself from searching for her everyday? You captured every laugh and every smiles with each blink, Still strive to have a glimpse! Haven’t you heard me my ears, When I told you
The box clatters with every sway of the automobile, My tummy feels like metals crushing together, freezing my teeth, The glasses shaking nonstop, feels like hell, Everywhere we step is a death trap, dodging several holes, The chauffeur, all red
They’re playing jazz in Leavenworth, ersatz Bavarian tourist trap of Washington State, a brittle-fingered quartet sentenced to the cellar of a failed Bierpalast fake snow sweating down the cinder block walls. the musicians don’t care; music coats their stomachs extra
Hoping for more good days. Wishing that everyday was like today. Filled with joy and excitement. But containing the sorrow and sadness. Good days come and go. Containing both the joy and sorrow. Some containing more than the other. But
Moving from one green pasture to another a lost ignorant soul not absorbed by anything around when he feels hungry he steals when he feels scared he ravages when he is happy, he sings and dances to the tune tune
Well and it’s once in a lifetime reinvention magic kinda like a secret superstition miracle of a the souls great salvation love found me just in time, the kind I thought I’d never find the kind that only happens once
Scary monster with big specs, A bald head and long legs. Same two shirts at alternate days, A dirty nose and an unwashed face. Not introduced himself with his true name, Teaching in class which is untamed. He speaks English
Unrepenting you start from a sore point to ask an explanation from an eclipse of the sun. unreviving, a corpse, the moon carries the burden of light, on its bloodied shoulder for burial in dew. Half the century we were
In some cases you think you know Every little secret info. Of all those you see everyday, Nothing’s there to keep you at bay. Well, then, you should know the person Whom all calls your better portion. All the world
The art of winning is not in Who’s holding you, your talent, But view. See yours as valuable, deserving, praise worthy, better. Whatever it is be proud of it. Speak and protect your children as priceless jewels, your mate as
In a far away land I met a man he spoke of things I never before had seen and places I never before had been sometimes I feel like I wish I could escape just me and my dreams in
The HinduKush mountains of the moon and the valleys where we lived, with the fairies and the spirits of the wood.. We bred the shen – the bravest of the horse tribe – and grew the scented root – the
As things material have to start somewhere, Like Big Bang or debris in empty space, Might we then ask if space began from where, The same with thoughts, and all, in every case? A god primordial would appall more minds,
I’m sitting and looking at a door A simple door, that is closed I contemplate opening the door but I don’t think I can “Stop second guessing yourself” I say I stand up and take a step towards the door
You whisper sweet words while you sharpen your thorns, By a spell I am called, and I pass through the doors. And they slowly close behind me in a squeaky little cry, As the sun begins to fade in the
It was dark and scary, it was so weird to have the thing so close, so near. I see it all the time, but it’s never this close, it stole all my hope. It’s dark and scary, it’s big and
Touched by moon, I pick up a black rose, to return the debt. Very high the fire, returns in my eyes. I start burning in your arms. The parting, crawls in the bed I cannot speak nor cry. Why it
Open the curtains of your eternal eyes, Ties your waist and ready for the journey of highs, It’s your time to stand up and rise, It’s your time to do or die, To become the self edify, To explore the
This life has snubbed the bloom like a thick brown sac thrown on the sod. An octogenarian tries to slice the hope indulgingly to achieve immortality! Was it a virile snarl? A rose bud wrenched open in a fatherless home.