Cronos poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of cronos poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on cronos are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Well I’ve got high hopes that When I cross the river Styx and Land on your island you will look On me with favor in your eyes Like a diamond in the rough All I have is a heart of
Standing in your shadow This is all that I know A picture perfect family Don’t let anybody see Late at night its rising Dark yet oh so blinding Numb to the pain now The voices in my brain scowl Draw
Thou happened to me as happenth an enlightenment To a lonely thinker who seekth a truth in clouds, As the wildest storm unwanted, unforsighted, And benignly coped all my bleeding flaws. Yeah, surely thou a creature of the Artist, Of
Do you hold a pen in your hand? So do you hold a pen in your hand? The moment you do, you take a new stand. You not only write words in a rhythmic way, but your emotions can even
Words and ideas can change the world! Yes,you gave us this hope. You gave voice to many of the dilemmas that churned in my mind. Day after day, night after night. But, one August morning, Not so august, though; Came
We who are born in our minuscule cradle in the cosmos see monsters. We see monsters in our cradle having been born with us. We see monsters coming at us from below. We see monsters in the great beyond. We
This day is here again, Its the same one as before… Yet completely different in itself, By just a few contradicting things… Feelings had bloomed, After a long unending winter.. I yearned for a companion, And found you along the
Just needle on all of their pain, Is there something that you’d like to gain, But its all amiss when she plants her devilish kiss, After all, somebody’s misfortune is someone’s momentary bliss. Well the Schadenfreuder never sleeps, At least
Well and this Mountain that overlooks the Sea has always been my sanctuary…I love the bright lights of the harbor and the sounds of the waves at night makes me think now that we are many, many miles apart well
the coming day pushes the blue sky west o’er the far valley beyond the mountains crest I left her down in Corazon without forgiveness…in the night she was searching for the grace of God she was looking…for the light but
Why do the clowns Have to die? They take their lives, Please tell me why. His world is always happy, He is not like you and I. A clown is always funny, He never gets to cry. He hides in
Carry on oh hopeless mortal try to live with hope of love connive yourself into belief collude yourself into yielding trust me not, your old ally trust the venomous heart you have fall flat on your face get up and
Our country got long awaited Freedom at Midnight on 14th Aug. 1947 When the world was sleeping We were awake and joyous In celebrating the Freedom All the pains and sorrows Got subdued at that moment We cherished and enjoyed
Valley was vast View was the best Sun was about to set For prey, birds search to get Breeze was pleasant Passers were complacent Boys bath at a pool Crows fight like a fool Sun became a lamp Returning home
They breezed past as air of life, Never ever to return I didn’t realise! ‘Moments’ that shaped my today, Experiences that enriched my way A fleeting childhood with siblings, A sidelong path to discover things, A raucous time trying to
Holy Aggie a morning near you was an age of enlightenment You exist ever in a sleepless dawn of scrubland fallow patches, rusting equipage, savaged stand of pecan a semicircle of bidders, smoke heavy in the hollows Fourteen and a
Last night you said you loved me But you still have feelings for him Well you can’t have your cake and Eat it too…it’s either me or him And I’m not gonna sit around Waiting for you to make up
If there ever was a time, in some dream or alternate state A time where I was happy, where I didn’t hold all of this hate. A place without feeling this constant hurt, no regrets weighing heavy on my peace
With fractured hands I lit a pyre of small nudes with pink globes. A moon bleaches me white in a long night. A reprieve was needed from the scorching sun opening a jinx of a metaphor. The poems will take
Your bewitching face I etched on wet sand And embellished it with a design grand, My work I looked on with pride, Which Alas! was undone by a tide; I carved your sweet name on a tree And thought it’d
Even the sleeping genes learn from their crashes with needles in eyes. A candid house chooses to fade after thinning of a blessing. Legacy of a heretic lives, dragging down the cracked joints of a frozen mirror. The wild lips
Oh Life ! I know you are a mystery You don different characters different times You are some times a romantic poem inspiring my heart to rhyme You are also an ocean of sorrow and make me swim against all
One in love, yet two in a crush- Peering from oneself into another’s! Fall for or get by; all tears are a reality show- About care’s hollow amice of rendition! Riding chariots of audacity to halt the rash- Is a
As my tired cheeks felt the cold tears from my swollen eyes As my mouth tasted the saltiness from the pain of these holy waters I am drowned by the rain that I made, so dark, so loud That what
coming out of the frame, in evening without a sun, unflinchingly, he said, he was talking to his father daily, in his mind, who was in grave, (when he was on ventilator) about a lesson of deception, about the things
I hid my face securely between the soothing palms of Mother Earth, And passed by, the world without caring, taunting and laughing, Some do stop just to ask, “Hi joker, feeling pity for your maker?”, But I stay as dead
This is the Horse Of A Different Color you’ve always heard tell about…well and this season it’s a celebration of the heart…ceremony of the horseman as the gypsies danced you kissed me and I lost all reason and as they
I don’t just reside under your bed. Don’t you dare escape me, I’m inside your head. My eyes are on you, I crave your blood. My soul is burning, My greed may flood. Trick or treat? I’m impossible to beat
Rains- smells Of dampness and chill, mother’s crispies, grandma’s tea Of coming home, all wet and cold, little pools flooding the floor Of dosas on the stove, day-darkness, drying clothes, A thunder bolt from the darkened skies, Wet feathers and
When there were no more Messiahs left to kill that day, the men of the town went home for another night of hoping, wailing, waiting and praying. The Night bore them a child. And Morning came knocking on their doors
And I almost caved in when I sat down on the sand dune Like dancing serpents the sand particles danced before me Enthralled me, swept me off to fall in love with them I closed my eyes, breathed Choosing to
A sudden tremor with a mighty shake Millions of lives does it take Houses broken and trees shaken Mighty hills all prone to cracken. Peace stolen by cracks so deep A twist it brings in life so steep A crisis
In my balcony On this full moon night I think of you and decide to write I analyse my things and my life But all my thoughts just end up in a fight You’re my first thought My last thought
Rain, wet and unrelenting Sun, so hot and dazzling Dreams of misty, cool rain And rides in an air-conditioned train Skylines of harsh, cold concrete Valleys of lush, green meadows Thunderstorms over a thrashing sea Beaches of soft, golden sand
Put off the lantern. I am waiting for the moon’s primal face. The lesser flamingoes were going to shed the pink color. Nude as a python, the kiss of pomegranates, kills by asphyxiation. I suffer in the hands of protests.
Her journey took her to a place Where smiles did sit on every face Where long ago the Indus came And so gave India her name Softly shifting desert sands And mountains that stood high on land The setting sun
I am left dangling between Conformity and Freedom So… What do I choose from? The Damocles sword or the Carrot? Cognition or Intuition? Accordance or Independence? What do I chose from? Existence or Living? Submission or Expression? Precision or Exaggeration?
Mirror was shattered By a single crevice. Those dusky eyes are places Where truth lies. Silent as night was my fate But then those footfalls Captured me to enervate. Wind turned the pages Of a story forsaken. Words had some
They were fated to face that minor road mishap The vehicle got tripped due to use of sudden brake It was August 1997, when my parents traveled by that cab Ignoring evil Oman earlier, my father left home without shake
Life is a trick with interwoven plot Clever take advantage a lot Apparently truth seems failed All good deeds look derailed Tricky minds proud of all tricks They feel pride in their pricks Vice becomes part of drama Shadows take
