Eyeopener poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of eyeopener poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on eyeopener are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
I was going through the year feeling just fine, while writing my rhymes. Not a worry, not a care, nothing to bear. Then along come spring, such a wonderful thing, didn’t have an idea of what it would bring. I
Father passed on nearly ten years before I got married He was not there when I finished high school Nor was he around when I finished college My youngest sibling was nine months There was a period of grief at
I’ve blown some rocks and now I’m chillin’, An’ around my head my thoughts are swillin’, It’s a warmin’ cool without a doubt, So good when lighten’d up an’ mellow’d out. In dear drugs I find solace, not cheap friends!
They slaughtered the icon in captivity as an act of mercy. To know the secret of madness why people were falling on knees? Outside a small narrative will give creased excuses. The spilled blood always instigates to drink from the
It was the close of her day’s work; She signed out, got in her car and drove off; On her way from work, driving home; She noticed the car’s left-rear tyre had gone flat; She pulled over to review further;
Sciences has opened our eyes on many fronts. We have learned much, but there is infinite knowledge to go. The Universe is larger than humans can possibly know. Our Universe as large as it is, is dwarfed in the Multiverse.
Maligned, the space between us lets go the mammary a flame scoops up the void, we speak no names, I carry you in my skinned arms to the weeds for seminal mutability; shipwrecked, i fear of depth turbulence, I will
Through all the pain and my sorrow I sometimes don’t want tomorrow Through pride and arrogance Brings my life a new dance. Through tears and agony Comes finding within, a different me Through loss of the times I did know
How can i forget, Those days which, I’ve spent with you… Those useless topics, Over which we, Had debated… Those smiles which, We had shared, Over stupid jokes… That love which, We had exchanged, Over this small time… How can
My lonely heart loses its way Always looks for a one, Wandering here and there Gets a mirage, but not a real one. Oh!!! Exhausted feelings that come And life becomes lifeless for a while, No way to stop, but
Early in the morning A rich continent, Culturally and financially Is getting ready for breakfast, English breakfast of baked beans On toast at Chiltern Firehouse.. Is devoured; While somewhwhere in Paris Waffles are being enjoyed With fresh coffee.. Admist all
Between she and he and sexuality swoops a gender patenting a word, as it is, at the birth’s door pretending to be a kiss of radical thought. Mediocrity always has an intentionality with colored plumage, a passionate dance before the
Through the arthritic wrought iron gate that squeaks from a pull or a push, up the weedy cobbled path past the grope of a sentinel bush. In one hand the past In a bulbous ballooning black bag with keys to
Deep sorrows I, in solitude partake, While mirth we share, basking sweetly in bliss, Such times are when I hid grief for your sake, Or when engaged in emprise of a kiss; It seems that night falls every time you
cool January soft sound of chattering teeth night of painful rest faint tunes of dew drops hazy February morn sun and transport wait first song of cuckoo melting snow of mountain tops a cool transition bees drone busily spring festival
Can we borrow the eyes of winter and spring to detect — behind the slippery, crystal-glassy, prayer-like quiet and focus of a sentinel, a snowman half-disfigured when scrutinized by early February winds — sparkles from an unseen, unbeatable citadel? Perhaps
Atlantic City, not a place but the fragment Of a memory that lights up bright and garish In the starless night when day is done When ragged dreams arise from murky beds Beneath the waves washing up like seaweed On
With stoicism writ on face I invite the chisels for giving birth to a dialogue between me and the shaper. Where did the things go wrong in making the life a simple page to write a beautiful poem? Buddha give
The night was old, sans us; we’re buried within ourselves- We met after decades, the definite cause for the arousal (and virility); A night of talks, old memories and kisses… Garbs flew while she pushed me hard-onto the pillows; Eyes
I observe the falcon His piercing stare keeping watch upon the land Patiently waiting for his peasant prey to begin their greedful harvest I observe the falcon Leaping from his perch, careening through the skies He is lightning, cutting through
This life takes that which may be taken and avows that Which is without comprehension, Embodiment unreasoned, seeking purpose, it Navigates with pain and pleasure, Yet not with both in equal measure, rather as season dictates Upon which emotions soar
When you ripped my mind and watched the fragments fly up around all over, I wonder how the frozen weightlessness of my memories of our past made you feel. Smiling, I let you go, while you still tried to melt
During the full charge of the afternoon words or figures tumbling out of you something the size and scent of work remember that it is unimportant vow to come to yourself pull back from those artificial languages feel your heart
Monster lurking around each corner awaiting the moment of absent mind to strike a venomous thing this is knowing just how to bite dripping with venom it sits and waits with a smirk it glares over to confirm the pain
On a bright spring morning When water droplets sprinkled garden Is shining with sprouting leaves and fruits I crawl amidst the serene beauty feeding on Anything that tastes fresh on my mouth ‘Coz I am just a baby, but you
Those tired eyes open, The forehead gleams with the first sunbeams, The Soul vibrates for a while- And becomes inactive for the day’s rest. That exhausted soul is coming back, Two weary feet are on the dark road, The shadow
At cremation ground the flames were creating strange words he stood still, in void, between unfenced tears there was no need to question the answers, kicking up the history, of crossing the bridge over the river of annihilation of self,
Soul like the angel, Eyes like the devil, A twizted brain burned like metal. She turns her head from left to right, She knows she has the beauty of night They shine like stars They tell a tale, They hide
Follow the flight of a sparrow Shall skip, with peg as arrow Jumps from branch to branch Moves inch by inch Jumps from land to tree Singing so free Slide to lure his pair Glide to catch his share Floats
four poems on the nightstand written on cigarette paper they could be linked together into a manifesto with patience with skill and a fingernail of spit all the things you thought about me you were never shy about dishing out
Something to believe is miles away Searching for reason,one reason,desperately, to give up; Hope I can pretend I am dreaming Tough whirling pain inside, want it to die; Days turned out cloudy and foggy Not a moment to live in..