Decision-time poems bring the best collection of short and long decision-time poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great decision-time rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these decision-time poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on decision-time are here for you.
Beautiful eyes Imagine falling in love with someone you have never seen. Would you give your heart away to a mystery? What if you could fall head over heels, do you think you would try? Or would you run away
It takes two and preferably some place for settling down to administer its ways. Concurrent voices condoning each line which voices offer to be tried for size concatenate the assemblage of lines that with the swell and tonal foam must
Terror is tumbling down to the Earth, The trees are trembling in fear. The nature’s crying the birth cry, And its raining at the top gear. Thunder is striking so violent, Window panes hitting each other. Everyone’s trying to save
It was a grizzly sky indeed So dull and drab The Kind, that reminds you of a Middle aged mistress, deeply in despair Puffing up a ballooned pout. Who is casting ash over Our azureous canopy? From where does this
Do you long to be kissed like a wayward girl Full of passion, ardour, fire? Do you yearn for pushing, pouting lips To kindle more than desire? Of touching faces, skin on skin And breath a mingling swirl? Do you
The silences are loud, They come out like ghosts; Lost on their way. The winds blow the leaves away, And the Sun shines through, But we sit there motionless; With nothing left to say. My eyes are stuck to the
It’s happening again, Such unbearable pain, And if my soul is crying As my heart is breaking, then that’s fine… I’ve let so many people down, Lost so many beautiful opportunities I feel so failed and forlorn, But is that
Play a cheerful note Chant a joyful thought Be in love with butterflies With silkworms And the starry skies ….. With beetles With a cockroach song With rivers running all along…. With seas and oceans and the moon With a
Black skin glows Tough and toxic we are, The strength of the horse attached to the hoe of the earth. The black head is far from light, he said. The squirrel hole you should probe Our hunchback distinct theirs, Which
It was past endurance. Flattened rage went into shaking palsy. He moved into sculptured dark like false reason, to defend the ankle-bone, for sequential pain. Every one seemed a fallible saint wet eyed, sitting on extinct volcano, between tickling bombs
I walked the roads, and followed every path When at last there was no more I ventured still to pass With hands outstretched and dreams held tight I walked the path into the night I found my way and prayed
Friendship is an oasis that is bound from the north by eternity’s wrinkle-free forehead, by life’s arid desert of mishaps from the south, by liberty that is in the hands of those who give it in order to have it
The sky above our country Tells about the capacity This sweet country is place To forget your purgatory For friends it is flower For terrors it is burry Equality for the people Is the matter of hurry It is the
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
My unborn girl and I Live within each other‘s spheres She has carried me first after all. Out of night’s numinous dream My mother comes down Spiral celestial stairs. “Look what I bring you” A little girl in tow. A
It is, first and last, my small kingdom. It has a ceiling closing off on me the gates of sun, stars and curses; it has walls ornamented by my dreams, and a mirror which sleeps whenever darkness passes by. At
Wanting more of you in the bed of moon, where present and past were disrobing. The bee stings, O my god, arrange the pure darkness of milk, hanging on persona of future. The yielding was painful, its blankness. You were
In a quiet, solitary room, the light softly pours into the multi-colored windows, Filling it with a reminder of the Father’s covenant. The children gather one by one and two by two, Praying for hope to be given in the
He said it was not easy, Not that easy, writing poetry. But I didn’t think so. (Yeah! I thought of it though.) I sent him my blueprint, He laughed and laughed… It’s not that easy, you see Your’s all wilderness.
The space behind my lids is empty- A void that I wallow in, Till the dawn of a new day. Wrapped in my delirious loam of comfort, I tranquilly lay, Wafting in the highest of all heavens, Nothingness and escapism
Just like a Bonsai you stand strong and tall, Despite being just five feet tall. You rise high and refuse to yield, In rain and stormy weather, offering the best shield. You let us blossom and fruit, Ensuring we stay
Yes indeed “Music is life’s Sound Track!” As on the rail of time An old song verse Transports us back A decade or a score Even more, To recollect A quality time With a lover We spent Though probably Now
Every day I pass by your window, Half expectant of seeing you there, Lost in thoughts As you always were, I wish I would chance upon, Catch a glimpse, Of an unexpected tear, Rolling down to smear Your pretty face.
Unsown peaks of fear under aggression. I ask you to make a choice between I and inventing yourself. I will not abandon the tree: the animal, renunciation. The belief and emptiness will find symbols of foreverness. Ephemeral colors; Leaves will
Desperate to be well My guts were manufacturing Barbed wire and I could feel Every yank of the sibling strands Grating of their braiding Bite of each marital point As the barbs were pinched Onto the endless line. Later, on
Victories out of lost battles… Soundless sighs of unwelcomed past… Past that tried to travel to future… Future of those who were busy… Busy with their lives… Lives they meant by dreams… Dreams out of their sleep… Sleep that never
When I am stranded, Life’s road seems long, I look for Jesus, my helper He provides friends to encourage, And pray for me, My Saviour helps me giving me Grace to endure And His word to sustain me, Thank you,
The Window// (1) Behind the window, when clouds descend down over houses planted into mud, and seeds wake up, clock-hands go back to zero. Cottony fogs veil visions, so we might look inside, then I see a dewy dove carrying
She came to visit me from America, Everybody shouted, she is my replica. She is very pretty, white and pink, She wore her jacket, made of mink. My little lady always looked very busy, Serving tea with her beautiful tea-cosy.