Ephemeral poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of ephemeral poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on ephemeral are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
My life depends on how fast you unload Ephemeral me; who prays for either too hot or too cold I sustain such extremes for my survival I pray for some reuse before recycle You chat and engage for long is
Eyes crack open with the searing of the darkened sky, Awaiting the auspicious oncoming day, Rousing one to feel sanguine and air of optimism, Of high hopes and opportunity which close by lay. Yet with the batting of a wing
The flag unfurled, and from within, fresh rose petals Jauntily floated down like gently melting snow flakes. Soon, even the smell of freedom dissipated, losing its Way into the winding lanes and by lanes of our lives. Tell me, which
I stood on the over-bridge, yellow phosphorescence beckons– Round moon like bosom of goddess Venus , nipple for a touch; a lapwing cries over the night. A sudden rustle in the undergrowth awakened the ephemeral days of my youth, fallen
Frustrating February… dull, desolate, alone, I loiter through the narrow lanes, for I still don’t have a room of my own. The hands they used to hold, the oaths of love they told, I have witnessed them vanish in time,
Sometimes happy sometimes sad and sometimes just lost in the middle wondering about what life has its plans if I can understand even a little But no matter how hard I try life seem to always out-fly Every attempt I
Walking along this isolated path again, Treading heavily on those pavements once more; The Eternal Stream has had it slain. The rocks and pebbles have withered away along this shore. In ruins,are those hamlets far away. Desolated are those fields
Drowning her children back in her womb, a big tear rolls down the cheek of earth. She was sitting on broken bones to watch the terror, ear for ear to listen, eye for eye to see. Hope was becoming ephemeral.
Sublime spirits trapped in a bottle The fallen son rises to do battle A hero of the lord risen from sin The walls of resolve grow ever thin Break the bond, release the spirit The will prays, but the heart’s
I will make amends with me today, stop fighting with myself. Unthinkable to live without pain, in war with suffering. Quietly cries the flame without sound. While night lingers on. Nothing was easy for a quick resignation of ephemeral tears.
The age of glory, Many words for excel; For intricate and impulsive minds 1000 things to baffle. Fairies evolve to friends and devils to foe; When your Adrenaline starts pumping, You long to, But never know that’s where you either
Wandering and Searching, Catching a glimpse of you sometimes In a child’s innocent laughter Bubbling delightfully like a mountain spring But your heart hidden away somewhere Deep in the darkest confines of a forest. Sometimes you’re just another face in
Busiprione, klonipin, prazosin and prozac stepford wives vis a vis stimulants offering an emotional uplifting dalliance cathartic against the depredation of panic attacks melancholia and obsessive compulsive disorder bearing down hard against psychological maladies delivering a near ecstatic state of
George Washington and Abraham Lincoln commanders in chief epitomized supreme martial mien and vocalized special flair talents summoned from their native heart-land motif in Modus Operandi of bootstraps dare acquired evanescent mythic reverence extant within bibliographic brief and closest role
I, the most perfect syllable in the world. It encapsulates me and all that is mine And all that I perceive or have perceived, All that I encountered or experienced, the Totality of my existence and its meaning To me
Pensive is my mood today, Tears fill the eyes, which smiled yesterday. Am I still the one … who worshipped love? Are you still the one … my epitome of trust? Your levity brings a weird thought, So ephemeral is
Wander through a forest Embrace its candid beauty Swing from the brawny branches of the robust trees, like an energetic child with an insatiable zest for existence. Marvel at the autumnal colors; poetic fodder for the Mind’s Eye. Build a
I am the shore and the sea luring myself in a ritual dance, quenching my earthen thirst with the liquid peace of my soul’s meat- the tumultuous clay’s restlessness numb in ephemeral, soothed by the penetrating rhythm of the immutable
The Argument The first canto proposes the entire subject matter through the first few lines, where is stated the tragic plight of those English people that went against Hades, the then wicked monarch of England, who, for the proclamation of
Well,they may be unlike but yet I continue to feel the same, Another one bites the dust while another one takes the blame, A Runner up again in the race with a moving train, Witness O Aphrodite,the deeds done in
Oooh baby ride that horsey harder and harder, faster and faster…keep it Cumming, no don’t stop now just keep it Cumming…well ain’t this what you came here for now Hugh now baby don’t lie I know you got that fire
My name is Richa… Does it really matter?! It could’ve been Mala …Seema…Sita..Nirbhaya or even Chabili.. In the end I would’ve been married to a much older man.. or abandoned after impregnating in a forest.. I wash utensils …clean floors..
Fraternising the needles on abbreviated lips. Handful of sand hauling uphill. Code of particles feels the entire lie. You wear mauve when I cry. Like diatoms in eyes. Erase the sun from my hairs. I am turning black. The brine
We are animals. Civilization, thousands of years in the making. The animal, millions of years in the making. Animal instincts etched into each cell of our being. Survival, procreation, deeply embedded into our souls. We think ourselves apart from, superior,
Photograph by “Alan Mackenzie” He screamed helplessness and fear, Anger arising in a depth of raw emotion, His exasperating anxiety and despair, This cruel mental decay of Alzheimer’s. Acceptance hung in the desperate air, Petulance always only a breath away,
I was the type of person, That held onto things too tight, Unable to release my grip, When it no longer felt right. And although it gave me blisters, And my fingers would all ache, I always thought that holding
Were you not born Had you not looked at me I would be a “No” person Your little fingers Your smooth hand Your rolling eyes Your funny smile Take me to Heaven And lo…my dear Darling little child You are
lucky are those women, who are married to someone they love. lucky are those women, who are free to be themselves lucky are those women, who are told YOU ARE SPECIAL lucky are those women, who are told YOU ARE
You built me up, favored by your light’s glow, To bask thereat, as world lies at my feet, I half believe my luck, the times that flow, Still sweet, even through nights of hale and sleet; Your tender touch, soft