Escalator poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of escalator poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on escalator are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
An escalator is an insatiable ogre gesturing a continual ragged-nailed come hither promising what is kept at its end is to be desired beyond candy, beyond any comfort of family. it breathes a single anticipatory breath an idiot predator focused
You don’t need a time machine, only your memories, they can take you back in time, connected more than any rhyme, you don’t need a time machine, only your memories, they can take you any where, into hope or in
He put on a tie for the appointment, carefully knotted it though while rounding up his necessaries from the scarred top of the old, painted dresser he dropped his keys twice and decided to take the bus His feet were
The fresh start I had has become another living nightmare and everywhere I look life has gone mad. Waking up every morning makes me terrified always making the run for more sleep won´t stop, won´t end my cry. Where have
Two tickets, for a train to down under. Take me with you, for my birth was a blunder. Walking as blind energy, from day to day. Giving up the hope to pray, as I lay, Myself down, in my self-inflictions,
In a starry night an adolescent thought starts a rivalry. A baby moon squirms. No hour was safe from terror in dark. I climb the stairs breathlessly. The great divide deepens in hearts. Incisors bite the tongue, grey cells bleed
This was an embryonic stimulus for a sprint. Knowledge itself has no legs. Can you run faster than thoughts? The sniper will take you in the open field. I had hoped to die in your arms. The podium was too
Winter That tiger cat with winking green eyes tossing up balls of red yarn. Spring Inquisitive… the gingersnap cat stares as I get undressed. Summer Black and white kitten lying under clothesline in soft circles of sleep. Fall Windy afternoon
Let it be, a dawn prayer, dripping with fantasy intercepting the strip-search of soul tempting a mad psyche. The sleeping volcano was going to celebrate, put the sign on. Perfectly shineless hands will raise the banner to donate kidneys, eyes
I am consumed with leaving one foot in the door and a portion of my brain the size of a doubled walnut begins to perform calculations how long a stay means eagerness how long obligation how long politeness how long
Helping myself wiping my tears , and trying to escape my fears . See myself scared confused clone , delving deeper into something unknown . Nostalgia from another night of no sleep , symptoms of my illness still creep .
Assembled casualty, repetition of conflict from the time of its start until the approach inside your heart, just before the last beat. Instrumental are the events that correspond and implement an almost unjust desire, circumvent any time spent and repent.
Dusted and faded, yellowed and cracked Yet overflowing with forgotten life, There are a hundred souls eager to reclaim The mind’s eye from an almost nothing. Quavering beneath the invisible ramparts And the omnipresent tower. Cold to idealism, yet basks
Thought shook through me thrilled with a sense of poignant pictures came thronging in panic haste tinsel glitter of empty titles thrilled by fresh and indescribable odors through a cycle of many ages endless and labyrinthine sentences thrilled to the
I live an ordinary life, In an ordinary home Built from ordinary bricks Made from ordinary stone. Each ordinary day I wake, Go down the ordinary stairs, Take a deep long breath and smell The ordinary air. At my ordinary
Sometimes you realise you’re stronger than you thought, In hindsight you can surely see, The person that you are and all but had forgot, Lost sight of the person you could be. No matter in life whatever dragged you down,
I once had two sparkling eyes full of hopes, But the familiar forces made them blind. They made sure to check on my survival frequently, But that was just to butcher my innocence. I cried out loud for help every
Listen that delicate one at the stream With the touches of rays at the shimmering cheeks That rhythming heart with troughs and the peaks With the waters of eyes and the emotions, cream Quiet is the drop and the orangish
I have something say, but fear, not dare, blood runs cold and I feel a Chill. If only some could understand how we feel, For the consequences of a confession we had to reveal, And the situations that we have
You can learn a lot about a person watching them eat an apple even watching them in the supermarket give them a five dollar bill and tell them pick out any apple you want, it’s on me those store aisles
1. Somebody puts a hand on my shoulder I turn around suddenly it was moon. 2. Do you hear the inaudible voices of abstruse frosting. The leaves are falling. 3. What you did not know was my pain. When I
High in the Cascade Mountain Range in a pristine alpine sanctuary; Early in the morning in wilderness tranquility,from the northern shoreline of a placid pond. Serene echoes of a loon’s lonesome yodel eloquently float out over the alpine flora and
The Fermi Paradox: Where is everyone? The Universe is nearly 14 billion years old say those in the know. Enough time to populate our galaxy they say! But is this really so? The elements in our bodies were created in
HEART ON HAPPY PLACE is your kiss on my lips The tender touch of your hand upon my face The way you hold me tight, every morning, Every night oh it’s like some kinda fairy tale Romance, love heaven sent
Wynken Blynken and Nod??? (ah…oh methinks this pissant pooch woof lee barked up the wrong tree – reed don my mongrel friend) This poetic endeavor doth not boast nor brag to take digs on front page headline grabbing news, nonetheless
Audacity to live with your demons, putting up a fake love belief, who was the time, of that dark night? Distinctly alive to what I was not just putting up the shades of death into nothingness of peace in war.
Americans have the same teef on TV Or at least that’s how it seems to me They’ve all got even white shining incisors The sort that demands the need for visors Big flashy cars-Ferraris and rollers Open their doors to
First love I recall now, and I will hence, Like rain that came ahead of April’s norms, It wets us through, though deemed of no offense, And laced our days throughout the August storms; First things have always claimed in
“Mum, what’s that noise?” asked Johnny Duboise as he sat on the comfy settee. “It’s your father”, she replied as the dishes she dried, “says he’s trying to set his mind free”. “By singing a song?” he asked with a
Before I go back into this sickening world, before I see people doing things that they never wished. Before I know people are not busy as they seem to be. Before I forget the true colours of my heart. Before