Extremes poems bring the best collection of short and long extremes poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great extremes rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these extremes poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on extremes are here for you.
(1) Tents are crowded by windows, but missing walls and a jasmine flower. (2) A window is a border between consciousness and sub-consciousness, between Ego and its annihilation. (3) A home without a window is a blind man with no
Poetry doesn’t just happen. It’s not just a bunch of words grabbed hastily and arranged to rhyme, it’s not even a so called overflow of emotions. Poetry is much more than that. It’s the silence that echoes within your being,
Call me time and again an incurable romantic. accuse me offensively of revering unrealism. laugh at me heartlessly for I over-idealize you. or just leave me forlorn, if I’m gallingly tractable. but I’ve a warm, not weak, heart. I sincerely
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
If time stops for no one, not even for love A straight line unbroken from morning to dusk Then my life is hollow, there’s nothing spellbound And seasons of living are well traveled ground If life’s made of spaces instead
Sorrow & comfort, Opposite extremes. Wisdom invites each soul to those scenes. Terms of life are never all kind, riddled with strife, leave achieves behind. Highest expressions Can make one so tall, But unbridled grief will cause one to fall.
Meditating quietly, On the self within, In the serene calm of mind Devoid of motion or sound Every day, Like a vibration, With a speed of thought, I travel manifold universes & Beyond, Amusing my-self In various lokas¹, Ever shining,
A gunny sack was full of bleached skulls. What now? Do I attend the auction of mortal wounds in hidden valley of dust? The arsenal of seductive weapons was a snub to your culture when the fall of extremes was
My love, we ventured deep in raging storms, Have groped in fogs, plodded on snow, Endured the scroll, aligned to rules and norms, Would we then die in calm, when no winds blow? For ships are stranded in such windless
Human relations are complex in nature Relationships may sway extremes from in separable to invisible It takes years to understand and feel comfortable with each other It takes a moment to destroy the love and faith that was built over
Love letters from L.A. so sweet Every line makes my heart skip A beat, I know someday we will Be together because I believe The heart can bridge any distance No matter the miles that separate Us today, no and
Within quadrants.. within transects… they divided the sky, they combed cirrus clouds, squeezed ripe cumulus dry. Within zones… within layers… they divided the sea, they netted frail salps, calculated densities in degrees. Within hypothesis within theories they divided the stars,
Rainbow-colored butterflies fluttering around- And shades of spring, are the kimono girls Dark like blackbirds and ravens are their hair Fair is their skin, round like the full moon Their eyes like stars of Arabian nights glow Their dance gentle
“I am The Wind!” My whispering Breeze echoes, ” I am here” Whooshing, whistling, lustily gusting Mysteriously surrounding the atmosphere I am a definite presence felt, but not seen Whipping and making restless nature’s green Often my capricious air soothes,
Your fragrance revolves around Your beauty comes to sight Your graces make me bound Your love is like a light Which pierces through your dress And comes across to see Your style is so to impress Which showers life on
The wind on high blows and branches bow on the tallest of trees and together they lean in shades of the brightest greens, walk with me along the high heath and gather flowers that spray all around your knees as
How can a lie make the whole world cry, yet they claim there is nothing to see, where nefarious knaves and the covetous crave beneath covers so stealthily, free? No thought for the plebs as they weave dangerous webs in
Thought that love was Sunshine and laughter Songs, blood moons and abrading stones Half-whispered words In the dusk of the Jacaranda tree. Thought that love was A magic mushroom of tenderness The daydream of a touch and The aberrancy of
People use your business as a weapon, that’s why I’m a private person. I keep my thoughts in my head, so nobody can’t say that I said. I keep people at a distance, because too many people is an audience.
Moving softly down the stairs with Isa holding tightly to her mother’s hand. Leanora was looking to the left and the right across the large hallway The thought of leaving her home was so horrendous to her . There was
The smoke rises higher and the fire’s centre burned so bright We all sat around it as if transfixed by its almighty rite The shadows we create cannot penetrate its heat We burn some rabbit from this afternoon and feast,
She says: I can smell the fear of your incompetence I harness you, to make real my “creativity” Your sweat nourishes my creation As I milk your labour to polish my David. Your gnawing stomach, I feed with ideas Pickle
Blood moon, O, sun-halogenated bulb! Sublunary loons swear and swoon Your red blushes flood The late twilit noon In hot menstrual flushes of blood! But blood moon! In your earth-orbited race I think you run out of skied space Much
A solid belief of karmic influence becomes fluidus but life was questioning again. You take to wars with thousand of nukes: still the daffodils were dancing. Float me on the bodies of bullet ridden moons and clouds: the red river,
Happy Mother’s day… Read it slowww-lyy, Here I am loneee-lyy, Writing a song for my mother Mom. Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Beautiful days, dull sunrays, The time is fleeting like tides and waves. Far from home, living alone, Writing a
Looking at how vibrantly the tree’s leaves dance. Swaying side to side. Side by side. I watch the cars driving sorta fast up and down the street. The breeze have picked up some. Quite cool this afternoon is this Sunday’s
The Autumn wind blows Fall leaves flow Crunch dry asphalt Friend or foe Days pass Pages flip Time flies Broken ties Daylight wind chaff Deception so daft Flying against the breeze Near the still pond It will appease Fearing for
Fear of the enemy is allied Though I may have died I live forever in the history As my country recites my story History praises my martyrdom With those who laid their lives for freedom Conferred on me is the
The weeping of a mother The hard, cold face of a heartless father Poor little you, barely kicking inside Mama is about to throw you aside Let’s not blame mama, good beautiful mama Let’s blame papa, for his empty promises,
The sea is stormy Like my mind, The tide of thoughts Ebbs and flows Just like the waves That lashes the shore. My thoughts are wild The sea is stormy Neither can be contained Within their periphery But have to
It’s winter now. A sea of flaking whites with Few Mahonias and Jacquelines blooming bright Just the way you’d loved them. Of flowers, now I’d rather you be a wreath on my bosom Than a lonely rose on the lapel.