Criticism poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of criticism poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on criticism are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
”You live in a queer world of dreams, Mr. Ahmed Turning odd imaginations to mere fancy words Bejeweled by baffling metaphors and similes That one mightn’t get the hang of with ease Why don’t you eschew the pesky rhyme rule,
This was my book of pain with no ending. Life had two meanings- Anticipation of today, and fear of tomorrow. Time was running out like sand from fists, mists were rising, commentaries on setting sun had begun. Mind was calculating,
I was floating in ethereal sphere When I met my Shakespeare dear, He saw my downcast aspect And said with all respect; “What ails thee, my dear? Thy countenance showeth deep fear, Unburden thy heart to me That I may
In this world of possession, Where, criticism creates frustration. Sufferings and pain have easy flow, Negativity and jealousy are in full glow. Where emptiness is all around, Pessimism can easily be found. Intolerance growing day by day, Depression is like
Something to believe is miles away Searching for reason,one reason,desperately, to give up; Hope I can pretend I am dreaming Tough whirling pain inside, want it to die; Days turned out cloudy and foggy Not a moment to live in..
I was always overwhelmed at the thought of learning yoga….. Not that there is a possibility of me becoming a yogi, Or snub all mundane things I love, and brag! The sight of people in tights and and tops, the
I walked beside her on the breezy beach, the waves came in a perfect rythm and steadily subsided below our feet. Her black curls fluttered in the serene winds, probing her to tuck them behind her modest ears. She held
Our hearts have this huge corner Deep deep inside Vulnerable to the slightest hurts To every criticism, negativity or slight We build walls around it Of cynicism and pride It was tender long ago Now we cover it and hide
The dark velvet blanket begins its descent Sprinkled with stars gleaming like diamonds on display, Shadows cast their images over mountains that surround me, Like hugs ancient warriors they stand guarding me like a king; And I feel loved. I
NEGATIVE STREAKS Self glorification is trying to impress one self Putting down others is to cover ones short comings praising an incompetent is to seek favour Covering up ones own mistake is the step in wrong direction Over looking the
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
Mind is a very tricky customer Sometimes it is in Ecstasy for no reasons Sometimes it is somber in spite of good reasons Mood changes according to desires Mood is pleasant when complimented Mood is murky when criticised None wants
She was not a virgin But with beauty, she did reign She was already married But she arose to be adored She was a widow Her beauty and pride did glow Borne already two children But with second love, she
Photo by Anemone Jones This heartache consumes me; I have nothing left to give I plead with my soul to forget and forgive Love’s journey has ended, how can that be Hearts once tethered are now set free As the
Pain intrigues a mystery The endurance of perseverance Tingling through every cell With a vengeance to conquer The mind and heart. Sweet is the pain That makes you feel alive Crimson red with scars Like a zipped pouch Oozing with
To waste hours eliminates days smell those flowers hold that gaze to bite your tongue, sometimes is best forgive the young as they learn the rest To blindly go ignoring choice with volume low that inner voice To needlessly worry
There once was a pink pig named Horton Who decided it was time to go courtin’ He surveyed the pen, and picked a sweetie named Gwen Snorted Horton let the mating begin Horton bellied on up to his quarry Twixt
Can time ever relieve? The ache that inside lives. Spring and rain are things of past. Will this gloom never last? You would return any day, In hope, I stare the way. You’re still in my every prayer. Deep in
searching for words in continuum of incompleteness, it was a trickle at first, then a free fall, cerebral fury: I am becoming expansive, so apposed to verbatim of shrieks, only in whispers I will talk to delphiniums, I would walk
A dream and me gazing at will merrily A hammock and me, lying and reading leisurely A Holsunlit day and me, basking in its glory A riverside and me fishing secrets deeply A sand dune and me reflecting shadows quietly
The spirit flows, Down the aisle of believers, It contorts and goes, Into the hearts of gracious receivers, The reading is a lament, Over a loss of accepted vigor, With which it has departed a certain consent, In the disrespect
The dice were loaded right from the start what would they roll was destiny’s game would it be love or would they roll out hate would they lead to bliss or bitterness was the fate strange are the chances and
Tears when in sorrow or Tears when in happiness are like flow of river When either in sorrow or in happiness tears refused to flow it is like storing river water across Dam After undergoing sorrow or enjoying happiness the
Let us go then, you and I… Let us go then… Tired? Surprisingly, we have been saying this a hundred years. It haunts. The hallucination continues. No, it leap-frogs. Eliot was dead before I was born, before we were born.
Every minute from dawn until dusk, I watch a screen, waste my life away. It’s not a good life But it is my life now. The television is my headstone, Marking in the electronic earth The coffin of my bedroom.
Back then, life for kids was harder than it should have been They say that kids had rights too, but I don’t remember when Back then, if there were child labor laws, they never told us If labor laws for
Learning something about a cause with remote effect you will have a soul connective to the body. Near the end of the home lies the river of fire. Time to bid goodbye to blind walls and enter the arena of
Amazing and awesome dream you are, I wish this dream coming true tomorrow, With new hopes of enthusiasm and exuberance, When the Sun is curious to rise in the morning. Beautiful and becoming you are for me, That always reflect
The old tree, tall against the sky – It’s still there, black, gnarled and lonely. The small laughing children I knew – Are somewhere, older, changed. You and me. facing tomorrow and memory. Where are we? As old April, an
Wishes, beautiful innocent wishes Fly, like those flying fishes Which come out from the heart of ocean To celebrate those moments undone They come out to fly in a herd And seem more beautiful than the bird Mariner looks at
It was both a complicated and a simpler place and time A very noisy and sometimes uncivil place, but very little crime A place though legally dry, yet filled with moonshine and wine Where peace and freedom were purchased by