Foresight poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of foresight poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on foresight are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Spirited Life is sweet morose life is sour calm life is steady Angry life is misery Smiling life is refreshing Condition of mind dependence upon one’s Life’s conduct If fickle minded , Life is uncertain If a happy mind, Life
Mom’s the word…A BIRTHDAY TRIBUTE She was the eighth child out of the ten born to the high-profile session judge couple; She spent her childhood amidst her siblings in a traditional orthodox environment with an aristocrat touch in her lifestyle.
It’s one of those mornings that welcomes whiskey and soda with open arms. The Sun and I, more or less, feel the same way about getting out and conquering the world. ‘Well, it’s not our turn today’, we tell ourselves.
Old numbers, lighthouses, baked bread. I open my eyes. nervous and irritable. Another day with vertigo. Five shillings grew lighter and lighter, the grinning letters, occupied me, tender and cool. Things change their colour, and die, The ever-increasing noise, the
Sea sand wind and rain all will be gurgling in pain whence it has arisen in noises surfing waves alighting high and low above the ravines careless and moody lushing and slushing movements of waves for only surfing Pale is
When it comes to you landing gently in your soul, and plants its loving seed. How do you accept? With a heart full of gracious thanks that wipe away all those long, dark and lonely nights. Or treat it with
First driblets of rain after long Flowing down through the bamboo Landed on my chin; For a change it was tears of glee. A sigh of freed up stress Emanating from deep within Up through the bamboo; For a change
The wind writes a name on the clouds and sun wipes out the letters. This game continues daily. coming into life after every death. Exhausted I want to believe and make up my mind to go for a new birth.
My strange dreams of the night. Disappeared with a bird’s wail I realised another morning bright And hoped for an exciting trail Amidst loud shouts and curses And the busy life of a modern day My empty belly threatening ulcers
Where do the souls of the children go, The ones that are scraped from the womb. surely in God’s great Heaven they can find, Blessed peace and sweet room. For I cannot believe that God in His mercy, would not
A lovely feeling, surprisingly drenched in passion, an emotion that’s fleeting, but stronger each time, spilling from my soul, with ink on paper. I wonder at my own predicament, in a fearless emotion, that isn’t tangible, the sculptures of a
Well MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU from my house to yours, I pray it’s the best Christmas you could ever hope for but don’t forget it’s not all about the presents under the Christmas tree no it’s really more about the
My better half in life alias wife lay tired & fatigued while toiling at the house chores for days & months I could see her charm gradually dwindling her anger terribly rising by leaps & bounds I got worried and
Neath the boughs and eaves; a soul all withered, weathered; grieves. For a love once unfurled Of promises made; and hope assumed and vows murled…. Scattered and battered in the undergrowth lies a heart that has found no rhythm no
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
Catching moon beams, walking on crystal air, gliding over the ocean, full of love,without a care. Sliding on a rainbow, jumping on to a star, fire racing across the water, as i drag moon beams on the way. Moon beams
The soft ticking Of several coasting bicycles Fills the streets. Kaleidoscope streetlamps Dance their light down to the pavement Through fingered trees. I almost wish cobblestones Lined the street. That way we could put our feet on my house And
oh ye death,you ocean of death roll away, please, roll oh ye abyss, fly away from us millions of souls in thee are buried, sleeping until the sound of trumpet sounds when you strike faces are painted with sorrow beauty
“I AM GOD’S CREATION – A SOUL” Can anyone tell, “Who am I?” What am I doing on this Mother Earth? I wish, someone could answer this question of mine! Can anyone tell, “where did I spring from?” And for
When black ink spills across the sky The time when ravens roam the heavens When the mythical beast gobbles up the sun Robbing me of the light I need to survive It becomes too dark for my preference. Pitch-black, that
In this world of possession, Where, criticism creates frustration. Sufferings and pain have easy flow, Negativity and jealousy are in full glow. Where emptiness is all around, Pessimism can easily be found. Intolerance growing day by day, Depression is like
She takes both happiness and sorrow in her stride and she remains silent without a murmur so far nobody knows what is in store for her in life One who is close now would have been stranger once Tears of
To become or not to become a renegade, or to die or not to die for a semi-god? These were some of the questions thrown at an incomplete script. What elevated you to a celebrity? Your hump or deep wrinkled
Would not wear the seasoned face. Eye for eye blasting the truth. The path becomes the tunnel. Unending, in pain of speech at the expense of ethics. Under the fingernails they start interbreeding the ideas, crimnalizing the upright past. A
Anger turns you away Holding that poison within your mind Your body and soul consumes you It diminishes your aura like acid And you allow this person to always be a factor To be the bigger person you have to