Curiousity poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of curiousity poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on curiousity are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Hospitals are Bombed mass graves With cold bunkers And shattered artillery. Red army fights the white army Blue army fights the yellow army Drones land on the cranium Submarines torpedo through the aorta. Death is a wheelbarrow You hitch a
Lists of listlessness Lay piled Along with linen Waiting to be washed, dried and ironed. And I just did. Found my list clean And crisp without creases Just plain white paper For my scribbled squiggly dreams painted in varied hues.
She descends from en-suite and the balcony-shops, sways down the stairway, leather-mini concealing, sometimes revealing, lace stocking-tops; carries her bruises where nobody sees. In the hub of the foyer the faces are probing, sharp as the glare of the night-patrol’s
Life invades the truth. Who cares? The night was thin, my eyes will search for stars. Now pain travels, backward from a smile? A myth unfolds the terror, of infinite tomorrows, an escape from the eternity? We will die, only
Time and time again I am completely misunderstood Not conforming to social norms that I should I will rebel if people disapprove the way I live my life If told to do something I’ll do it more for spite As
I looked in the mirror, exasperated eyes glared back at me. I couldn’t comprehend that exasperation, I failed to calm my curiosity. I bowed my eyes down, and thought for a moment, soon I recalled the way my day was
To my friend She glows with a glimmering giggle that lingers in my mind that surpasses even fragrance of fair Jasmine her benign grin, a mark of charity wins the souls of all in unanimity. Her abode is a mansion
That awkward moment when you stammer, truth spurts out: how not to offer a straight reply. Your green eyes tell me the pain of last century. Of armistice, of amputated legs and then you don’t know what to do with
Really focus lately,less moving,more thinking Creating my poetic dosage More painting, more illustrating, my reasons Splashing in poetic motion Adapting to the season and grateful I’m still breathing Thankful for the pain mixed in with the joy giving my life
Weaving fine fibres of unripe beliefs, from a fire base, a blue bird scrambles, shading the stone valley. There was no thrift for the cadavers. The burnt relics were eating away the greens of tearful eyes. Sun was slugging again.
It was a dark evening, the sun already gone, clouds were turning black, only few houses’ lights were on, Rain had started, sky was ready for a thunderstorm. I saw in the street, a girl waking alone, she was slow,
Drop by drop the water falls down, Down on earth with a giggling sound. It makes the ground cool and soft, And nourishes the life on earth, The patter and dripping sound of rain, Brought joy and pleasure in me.
Unpleasant things of life, once completely frozen, are now thawing and melting away. Wisdom has taught us that such things, like ice caps, never came to stay. To all things, there is an ultimate purpose. This truth is certain; no
I was on the road to revolution; when I met- The childless mother beating her chest in sorrow, the widow shredding tears of solitude, The motherless child crying for company, the father who had lost his son… For the road
Where the sea meets the sky, Blue on blue. White sails, slowly sliding by, Azure hue. Warm sands, intense, bright sun, Calming you. Beautiful island girl, scantily clad, No taboo. House made of grass and leaves, And bamboo. Waves of
Shrinked and Unkindled my Mind’s eye cowered Until a Sudden spark got its flame uncovered A heart of love his most prized possession On a Hilltop shining,his unclaimed position world’s blacked out words bland out Hearts bled out Yet tears
The smoke rises from the house, You know that there is fire & a spouse. When you see the footprints on the sand, Someone has passed you just understand. Fast moving trains,running cars & trams, Make your belief that someone
You spoil the air by burning fossil fuel By absorbing odors, trees help to level You inhale fresh air To this, trees provide a lions’ share You exhale exhaust of the body Which the trees take into custody Trees inhale
An old man from the hefty peak of snow beholds the ocean view with waves bouncing high He gets lost in pensive thoughts of nature’s attitude towards human civilization With closed eyes absorbs the events his life experienced in the
Yes…I know …I know my steps are to end. Darkness awaits ’round yonder bend. Wrinkled and worn have I become, scarred and tempered beneath loyal sun. Neither gospel nor gun, a lantern to be, for the cosmic thicket now welcoming
Her presence was like being breathless; skydiving over a foreign land you’d only seen in photos but admired, longing to visit in the cool unfamiliar majesty of a new landscape. She looked at me, and before anyone else could move,
A brush with pain of chest starts recalibrating the fog of eyes. World has come a long way from a child’s brain to prepare an indigenous bomb for a roaring ascent. Where my son, you want to go in trees
Ghost and my girlfriend: She came closer and closer Just a millimetre away Her lips were from mine And the moment Was greater than fine I wanted to tell her my feelings Especially from last few days To disclose the
You heard what you wanted to hear You felt what you wanted to feel You ignored all the evidence to the contrary And resigned yourself to the fates But what you did not see Was the turmoil that started it
Wish I could edit life’s errors. Retrace my steps, reclaim All I lost, gave up on. I’d give my present knowledge To my younger self. Carry my youthful vigor for life, hold unto my experiences. My second thoughts I’d make
Ms. Divorce Saw You And Your Man, Walking Down The Street, Holding Each Other’s Hand. Ms. Divorce Don’t Like What She See, And She Tells Herself, “That Man Should Be With Me.” Ms. Divorce Is Lonely, So She Wants You
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
He peeped out of his castle very frightened someone may call his name. He knew vice-versa they were afraid of him calling him venomous satan in snake skin. Saying he is the sinner of temptation hissing he nods that’s not
The lubricant of all human interactions Calming the storm brewing in my teacup Hurling me out of the dangerous explosions That will tear me into a million little shards “Excuse me, what did you say?” Is the caution phrase Something
The bones are brittle as are the thoughts they crumble events of yesterdays that never happened things that happened not remembered today becomes another time faces and events mingle become a crazy quilt He sits and stares unaware of a