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
Something I will never forget, something I should have been forgotten… Something that cannot be undone, Something that can never be erased or rewound… A nightmare to others, But an encouragement to those who hurt, to move on.. A thing
I am serenity … standing here flowing… Seeking justice… Seeking peace… Pronounced with calm breaths… fearing not the chaos of the hatred armor and fists you bear… My face of clarity speaking with unspoken words… Yet loudly, stance proudly… with
I had the time held by its wings. The moist, silken,grainy impressions, still linger on my finger tips. The moments slipped . Fluttered. Was it insanity that took over me? Or was it a shadow of all desires so stubbornly
the heart composes dark symphonies the mind rejoinders: “Equipoise” the world is not so old yet nothing has to be there is no Death only Life the pursuit of handsome men of handsome women the fact of earth the illusion
After the weep there was blankness, then he started playing with fire for existence, of a rain which refused to shower. It was a fierce night of a hidden drought. A lethal dose of amnesia dissipates the calmness of a
We drowned ourselves in endless g&ts The glorious bounty of Wednesday happy hour Bathed in the light of hipster patio lighting And the faint smell of last night’s campfire So smoky I couldn’t feel your hand holding mine Our intention
well past closing all the glasses dirty no one’s gone home despite the bruised air ceiling fans limping round the woman at the mic is no longer singing just making music erecting sand dunes it’s gymnastics on the stage they
I know there’s nothing I can say to you that will change your mind, you say it’s the end of an era and a new one has just begun but listen to me as I leave this echo in your
April ushers the summer here A period we all fear. Sweltering heat takes its toll, Dissuading any, from a stroll. The streaming rays in the morn, Heralds a warm dawn, Another steaming day, I reckon, As the days beckon. But
I have a friend named Bean Who is so mean, Unwashed and unclean. It has to be me To help him, not he, He sucks me like bee. His pain is my pain, In mine he sees no gain, But
sky soon to be scarred with unknown. inner compass points daybreak so board at dusk exit lane takes you away from falling darkness. feasting on past sleeping dogs lie no longer now awake they gnaw on bones of not-dared. at
Walking Summers dusky haze I glimpsed her golden hair Her femininity attracts my eye Her graceful gait I espy Barefooted she stands Long white dress so pure Fair Complexion healthy and kind Her looks encapsulate my mind Butterflies flutter by
The red-gold heaven of stormy autumn leafy-misty lights this late October dawn recalling to me, curiously, the design hidden in words, swirls of the wood-smoke of ages time-ridden, missing things: a fleeting meeting with the past: something else that does
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
Velvet thorns become signature of my pain and joy. Body paints the naked earth blue. Eyes in hot desert search red poles and blue moon. Emotional strife: dripping accidents with sum flowers, extremely talkative. Then the words litter on white
I will write a poem, Of you and me … Someday, I promise. I will write how we met; On a rainy night. I will write a poem, about how you held me – as the lightning struck And, I
All I had was my songs and this guitar Until one day you passed by me. You stood there, wind blowing in your hair I couldn’t help but drown in your gaze and stare A dream that seemed back then
YOU UPSET THE GRACE OF LIVING WHEN YOU LIE: LETTERS THE DEAD DISPATCH ‘the singing of the song sustained an echo of the life…’ (Tim Hardin 1940 – 1980) you say you hear voices in your head, and that one
The hardest thing I have ever done was say goodbye to you Reckless words spoken, a desperate act of an unknowing fool Time doesn’t heal all wounds, only those of flesh and bone A broken heart will easily shatter, no
35 years of living should have inured me, if not prepared me, for surviving this planet; but no matter how much of me gets spent, no matter how much of it becomes me, I will always be an outsider; like
Once again my mind takes flight . Looking at all there is to see. Wandering through different times and realities. Following things as perhaps they might be. Different story lines as far as any mind’s eye can see. Dizzying vistas
When black ink spills across the sky The time when ravens roam the heavens When the mythical beast gobbles up the sun Robbing me of the light I need to survive It becomes too dark for my preference. Pitch-black, that
Walking in the bush, late in the afternoon: Spring winding trails Among Plantae et Animalia. An independent world —Sort of realm of alien species Welcomes your senses with a storm of small flies (genus Drosophila) Which playfully floods the air,
As I remember my remedy in the natural scent of humanity, I am reminded the chewed kisses stamped on my forehead applauding my addition to the Zimbabwean population. I remember my first time drowned and dissolved in the newness of
(A Tribute to and in Memory of Mr. Lee Kuan Yew 1923 – 2015 First Prime Minister of the Republic of Singapore 1965 – 1990) I will not weep for you, Foster Father Lee Kuan Yew! For all fathers must
(1) A flower is a colorful scrabbling over a garden’s cheeks and a flying kiss into air. (2) A flower is a state of confusion, whenever a stigma erects up into a silky bed. (3) A flower is martyrdom on
Wayanay Inca………. I hear your call Within your music flitters my soul! Within the condor flight Within every starry night Within sun rise and sun set Invisible music I can get Within a Mayan pyramid Within the breeze unlimited Within
As I reminisce un past songs It brings back the memories The times of laughter And youth Hoping to remember more good days The songs replay in my mind As I search for our memories From our time of youth
Just after brunch two little frogs climbed up a tree onto a leafless branch to view what they could see They saw the sky in azure blue Clouds dotted here and there They saw the river running though they didn’t
Roses are Red, Daisys are Yellow, Violets are Blue, Auta is Black, She is fair Her hair, curly, When she flips it backwards, I feel this magnetic pull towards her. Her face, so clear and spotless, With blue eyes, In
Waned and weary with only toil and trouble my limbs could only travel this journey tired. . In my head to in my mind -which coincidentally were not the same thing- thoughts seemed to expire from the zealous fear found
Now you ask me ‘how are you’…Don’t you know what I’ve gone through ? What my thoughts have made me do ?!! A bit late now to see me through. A sorry I’d appreciate, at least some words to comfort
Instant in second thought would we peer morely impoverished flame would we adhere lonely would we let love persevere or love in lost love in those disappear into a pleasance our one love so near an impoverished flame of our heart so sincere pleasance from love we once sought in
Dried leaves flutter across retina Spring gusts pop stop move along crawl catch scurry scurry duck walk jump twirl hold lifted up and up flying returning Blur burned image receding winged body’s sudden arc up impossible to see details vibrating
Hold me tightly as a creeper holds a tree, and adores, Kiss me time and again like a wave touches sea shore. Be with me forever as moon and earth stay together, Love me unconditionally as God loves all creatures.
Father It be not your obligation; Why I wonder is it that we exist? Why is it that I live in this nation? I believe I need a hint or the gist. Our dire source deliberately brings drought, Our breath
You will see me someday, the open wound deep inside Seeing only the truth, despairing I hide The growing bitter bed, you will see and obey Together, apart, we wed, sever the day Like a raw raisin pit, I won’t
Rising above my tears and sorrows Being above the storms raging by me Lifting me up to be in a place of glory God lifts me up for greater tomorrows Showing the wonder of His awesome Place of joy and
Broad mindedness is the yardstick of one’s wisdom Broad minded is always a giver His ambition is the welfare of the needy His aim in Life is upliftment of poor Needy first self later is his motto small mindedness is