Estrangement poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of estrangement poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on estrangement are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Saturday evenings reek of stale words, aching bones and a running out of things to feel dressed in a darkness where your silence meets mine and no sound seeps in through the fine crisscross weave of the blanket soggy with
A girl of just 4 years old, Who lost her mother. The beautiful relationship was disconnected, Girl had nothing but to be disconcerted. She was depressed, But could not express. Could only feel disembodied, Of her abandon mother. Her feelings
Marginality// By: Fareed Ghanem **** (1) When eyes rain on beautiful steps along a novel’s paths, while you stay out of the text, know that you are put in the margins; when you boil like sleepless volcano, just to furnish
Sometimes my mind flies away, leaving my body behind. I look around the room, I’m so confused. Who are these people? Why am I here? It’s a bit too late, because they can’t relate. What’s happening to me? Why do
Winter has the taste of melancholy; my window puts on a cloak of glass, wraps its face with a shawl of lead and drops cold tears, each time universe shrinks. (2) Migrant birds have a travelling homeland in sky and
Her ashen face, Was forever concealed in her hand. The prospect of the land beyond the cloud, Forever being fantasized in her head. Alienation and estrangement consuming her. Many thought she was almost as good as dead. The ignorant blurs
I guess it is never late to live where I am, For the past has left me grieving alone, Future is unforeseen showing fresh and green, For none of them appear here, where I am. Past memories linger grieving, Was
Me, in my morning rush hour cook scrub and clean a nightingale amidst a concrete jungle screams and orders me to stop to listen to her melody ‘stop your chores, spare me your ear I thought you missed me’ my
Sometimes, I look for a door in the floor of my bedroom— even though there’s no such door—just because it’ll be such an awesome thing to have. Wouldn’t you want one? I’ll become the envy of all my (imaginary) friends.
Yorkshire is a land of valleys a land of marriage of cliff and sea, Yorkshire is a land of the future a land of yesterday, a land of the free. A chimney, a watermill churning the mix should you prove
A steady mind does not exhibit emotions A disturbed mind often leads to irritation A happy mind feels Life as a Gods given gift to enjoy A sorrow mind feels no charm in leading the life An angry mind sees
dark matters are floating like bowls made of leaves spilling hunger, make me upset, figures moving like ghosts wrenching out the fish plates from rails, nothing will move now except the eyebrows of stone faces, bodhisattvas sitting in scorching sun,
I hear her giggles and my heart- leaps with beats before my kisses. She knows she puts my nerves to test- but I know she is my favorite mess. She runs around until her hair- sticks to her forehead and
A gentle cough, a quiet word, a morning breeze, a waking bird, Into her box her letters fall, soft flip flop slippers down a hall, A radio plays yesterdays, and on the wall a clock face says That sometimes time
Strange is the land on which he treads seeking blood for the vengeance within he stops and sniffs, yes there is hatred here someone will fall for the false hope again some eyes will always be moist some hearts will
Swing of the sundial and capricious collapse my soul left vexed at the precipice of night vacant stare from the dew of dawn damned my inexorable fate and despite! Insular folds they threatened to burst though stimulant swam in the
Am I a light To the world that is not bright ? Can I kindle a ray of light In those who are not aware of light ? I am in a class bright That is an illuminating light Motivating
Find your place the back of the bus take what they give you don’t make a fuss do as they say not as they do follow their rules stay quiet too no protesting … no squeaky wheel go through the
A chill rose the morning as the sun danced away While snow chose her fall, — beneath invading gray Frozen for my darling, — a fallen flake she lay Never to drift another, from the heavens in that way Talking
I don’t like the sound of lies But I myself speak one or two With a poker face many times Hiding the truth through and through Still I preach honesty Like I am a saint and divine Pretending to stall
A black hole detonates itself to stigmatize the substance. Now a silk road leads to sight and touch. A scarecrow starts screaming. Sky was falling on fire. The space becomes deviant. Chopped hands were drawing the tattoos of winged feet.
Oh come bird and sing upon the Willow tree, a note of your little hearts well being. To a host of wild flowers, in colors of a rainbow queen! Walk on the soft green grass, for joy in heart it
Heading to the city in a cab, I take a backseat and wave goodbye To my people, to my town I say – wait for my call, wait for my mail When back, I may tell you a tall tale.
For My Dying Rose To Be , Water Contaminates, So You Won’t Grow Too See The Wonders Of What You Were Going To Be Are No Longer , Must I Hang My Head Low Like That Of Your Demise Or
I was painting my dreams red and blue on the floor with the crayons, Confidently humming to myself composed tune That’s when a formless form sat beside me It stared at me, I stared it back, and we stared each
She wants to be remembered, A chant, a whisper, a name, She thinks to herself that if she really shut her eyes, Would the world notice she is gone? All the she hears are raindrops against the roof The rustling
There is a train a coming, I hear it down the track. Like music in my ears, Clickty clack, clickty clack. Hop on boy, I hear The conductor yell. You’re going for a ride And get to ring the bell.
At the sea side sea gulls glide and call for food They steal some old chips from a discarded plate Then gobble them up. To them it must taste good. I say to myself I hope it’s not too late
Thankfully I was never bullied at school but for this poem I tried to put myself in the shoes of someone who was. Bullying hurts and leaves a permanent scar! Laughed at, taunted, left all alone, You tell me to
A fickle thing these words can be Vessels for hopes and expectations The building blocks for dreams How smoothly they slip off a tongue Fall on fertile ground and They will grow roots far and deep They stay with you
The echo of my footsteps As I walk past the porch. The creaking of the rocker As the breeze gives it a push. Tell me a story chair, Of all that you have seen: Boys and girls on their bikes,
Tattered clothes that were barely there Her tortured soul was threadbare too. She mirrored our impotent helplessness In the face of destiny’s dire performance As we watched her bizarre life played out. Every time I saw her writhe and squirm,
I refuse to follow you. I refuse to borrow your words, your ideas, your beliefs. Limiting preachings of fragmented minds. I refuse to follow you. I refuse to adopt your meanings, interpretations, definitions. Confining parameters, conditioning. I refuse to follow
I ate some sand yesterday It did not taste horrible As I have been told And I did not regret walking In the storm It was like biting you On your tattoo The wind and you Resist with a feverish
You bloom in my heart like a beautiful rose in summer. You cherish my spirit and give me the sense of delight. Your innermost dreams and incredibly zany desires Are so fantastic and bright. Your radiant smile is wonderful, gorgeous,
I do apologize Giving you credit on your day, Mother You’d think you fell into oblivion And to memory you come occasionally, Mother You’d think the stream of my love From my heart stops flowing, Mother You’d think my eyes
We played the game, threw the dice at times we got lucky with the game. although caught in a web of lies… though a picture locked in a frame. Life gave pain, left us with misery, and empty people fought
How I wish, I could, Break away from all shackles That bog me down, And fly in the expanse of the sky. Free to express myself, Without fear of being judged, To free my soul, Of all my thwarted words.
Will you come to the love shop with me and buy me some love? Sell me your jet black heart and I’ll leave you a note, You know the world can be yours if you’d just let me know, Well
