Consume poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of consume poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on consume are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Find something you’re passionate about and let it consume you. Do not run from it. Let it keep you awake for 48 hours at a time. And while you’re running on zero sleep, create the next wonder of the world.
As the darkness descends, We find, Ourselves failing. Reminiscence Always reminds Of days , Long gone, Of cataclysms, Barely survived. This tale of Our doom Swears, We never relinquished, Yet this conte Foretells the promises, Of woes Yet unseen. These
Oh, you. You with your eyes. A golden brown. A deep forest green. They’re an abyss that I become lost in…repeatedly. You’re my panacea. A serendipity that is beyond lovely. Your presence sends a ripple effect of warmth throughout me.
Never forget that life is a fleeting thing, we seep our souls in hate, and forget that it suffocates what little time exists Cliches aren’t corny, they are tragically obvious, and tragically sad For they are lessons that are never
The cloak of night is on me Comforting in its envelope. The gloom helps me mask, for a while, The pain I nurse within. Dark purple skies And faint silhouettes of clouds. Lightning heralds the distant thunder The macabre outline
Sublime spirits trapped in a bottle The fallen son rises to do battle A hero of the lord risen from sin The walls of resolve grow ever thin Break the bond, release the spirit The will prays, but the heart’s
5am, the vending machine rattles, groans, collapses Violently, I kick it, yell at it, shake it The green tea can is grinning at me, mocking me. A passerby opens his fresh can of beer he sees me desperate for a
Tumbling over One after another The waves crash left and right Crossing each other Coming together, cancelling out Rippling white ridges of white violent foam And yet This is not where the real power lies The outward grey-green breakers fall
Like a rumbling thunder let loose upon a recalcitrant world by the fury of nature, the sound of heavy gun shots could be heard ominously in the distance from this remote settlement where the inhabitants lurks away in the gloomy
I sleep to your sweet lullaby Composing songs of intoxicated love. And I look at our reflections on roads left wet from thirsting rain; Our love – laced between twisted bodies and entwined fingers that smell of the musky clouds
They seem to overwhelm me, Consume me, Devour me… Like gruelling waves crashing against the shore Creating a torment impossible to pacify. Drowning me in their depth- Deep and dark, Vague and uncertain… Like an uncontrollable vicious whirlpool Salvaging what’s
In three forms Two thirds; Still, Not to drink a drop, or two pots for bath. One-third in Coco cola bottle, One-third is in the Cleavage water, Then, we are throwing stones at the well, Waiting for the crow bath;
Living in and roaming through a rugged domain east of Princeton, above the Old Hedley Road, this elusive cougar’s domain is to be admired. In the solitude of Nature. Elisa, with her three kits precariously strolling across a rocky precipice
Multi-colored Orbs before my eyes… what’s going on here, are my eyes just playing tricks on me…well I rub my eyes but they do not disappear I wonder if it’s spirits in despair or the guardians of mine trying to
THE WHIRLING STORM OF EVIL From the dark recluse in my thatched mud hut I barricaded myself; with the palm of my hands pressing tightly against my ears, vainly trying to shut out the mournful tune of the dirge playing
I’m sorry, but, ghosts are not scary. They live inside me. They live inside you. And without realizing, they consume us whole Of course, they are here to destroy But the destruction..? It’s so silent And silence, so to say,
Fill out the CAPTCHA. Prove you’re not a human. There are so many stupid humans spamming the site It’s gibberish – you can tell it’s a human because they can’t write. When bots do it there is soul and calculation
and I can almost sense that something bad is going to happen soon everything for some people just seem to be falling apart people well one person in particular he is such an amazing person and he seems to be
Sitting in silence surreptitiously meditating on the everyday turmoils and confusion that repulses even the most hard-core reality driven populists Thoughts come and go within the realm of preposterous assumptions that convey nothing of importance Just pass the time as
If I were to throw you into the deepest Parts of the sea, my lovely, You’d drown: Not because the water runs deep Or because the waves consume you; Not because you don’t know where the shore is or Because
Pain, why must you stay? I thought you would leave, In a mere day. Pain, I despise you, You consume my emotions, As stubborn as glue. Pain, we have known each other, For quite sometime, If I was a dim-lit
The sky is sobbing and will not stop Drenching me with cold big drops. Dashing back indoors Dripping all over my clean floors. I shouted up to the sky “What’s wrong, why do you cry” A loud crash and burst
Craving though strong but unable to discern Await relevant pointer a call for what I yearn Inconceivable as of now with time guess resolve A purpose to existence and culpability absolve Bestowed while ample still something’s amiss Nagging at the
They fill my stomach, block its sky lIke reams of paper hasserai acid shades of autumn leaves sent aloft without a breeze they cloud my brain they rain, un-rain and rain again. and stall each lane of acumen thrashing, crashing,
The sea claims, here you are at my door. Leave behind the bustling streets. Walk up to me, pardon my storminess. Bury your feet in my sand and close your eyes. I shall salve you of endless perplexity and unrest.
Same rise, Regular routine Boring set, Ending with gym That’s what I imagined for today I never knew this typical day would turn a Lucky Tuesday! Still wondering why did you come up and said “Hi”? Just then you stole
Epochs// (1) Sometimes, time does interchange. But my grandma, who’d moved from her poor house to live inside my skull, is still throwing seven stones at the cellular phone, wakes me up each time a light emerges from the end