Fragmentation poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of fragmentation poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on fragmentation are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
She smiled for a deep need of admiration Her world was of fantasy and delusion Her senses of mental fragmentation She welcomed someone When no one was there She never knew when she was sick Like demons tugging the stigma
Off from the beaten path Near a roaring sea Stood a quaint cottage quite a mystery Green moss lined its border Lived a sophisticated woman who demanded order Sweeping always cleaning The soon she would discover No one dared to
Through the breeze A slight scent of mint The Sumer didn’t even make a dent In the column of cosmic debris Hollow leaves with colors that bleed In Autumn the colors turn red To awake the barren lake Columns of
shaped from the tiny fragmentation of the impulse in my mind blinded by the mere silence in its brigade of solemn tenderness alone I sit on a high hill visually seeing the passerbys visit then leave a quaint encounter to
You said to me “Thanks for loving me” Oh my love! I don’t know what to say Don’t know how to reciprocate Your very thought, your very name Makes my heart beat reverberate Our love is so unconditional Both of
Once I lived in Swaziland, Away from my country my beloved homeland. A beautiful country of Southern Africa, Manzini and Mababane are its heavenly replica. We lived in coats valley near the grove of guava trees, My maid used to
The symphony of you serenades I feel for the sound of touch My fingers caress the piano keys that are the gentle ridges descending your spine Violin strings resonate in the silk strands of your scented hair Your warm eyes
Black colour amidst other colours is like a lunar Eclipse while the white Colour amongst others is like a milky moon Moving vehicle is symbol of growth while stationary one is symbol of decay Life is a dream , Truth
Deep within my soul Your words of love Burn so bright That you might be The very special girl I hold so tight Like two vessels That intertwine into the night You have a way of making Everything feels just
He peeped out of his castle very frightened someone may call his name. He knew vice-versa they were afraid of him calling him venomous satan in snake skin. Saying he is the sinner of temptation hissing he nods that’s not
In the tiny truths behind the hidden words and blood streaked cheeks, you drink ozone in deep layers. I will count all my sins and light the candles in a row. On the pillow of moon, night slept in half-slumber.
To all the girls I have cared, respected, and loved before, You have showered me with great attention, I never experienced more. You were there on my ups and down; at my worst. If I can remember; I just sit,
The azure sky, the swirling waters presented a picturesque backdrop The tourists, backpackers heaved a sigh of relief All were far from the maddening crowd On a quest to find inner peace. Then they saw what looked like a log
between my guts and stars, somewhere in the middle when the heavens stands apart my mortal excellence create an exemplar focused on the divine idea the clock spins indicate the hours, pendulum swings can it be eternal? I’m closer to
This nothingness was overwhelming. When words fail to tell the facts, only silence talks. That brutal interrogation of self to undo the decline, like a a viper in your home. The mortgaged glow of stoned infant in the exiled land,
Mother always called me the devil child She said I was loud, destructive and wild Parents told sister I was bad and she didn’t ever have to play with me Much time alone was no fun, however for friends I
Just now we’ve concluded the conquest of Constantinople. It took us fifty three seconds, the time between two cigarettes and two hallucinations. Then, we came back. The city inflates at night; Noisy lamps, stained by excrement of last summer’s beetles,
My happiness ends here , on a Sunday’s evening after the cross atop the church’s steeple becomes cooler after this bright red sunset there will be no more painless, careless,fearless moments the asphalt is empty and dull for my soles,it’s
They smear thy love to hide their sheen For beauty, they found, is hidden within Through sunken eyes, as calm as thee They embrace thy art, in joyous spree. In search of peace through coarse terrains From Himalayan caves to
On wrong side of truth a prophecy burns. A conflict of your own choosing when more was less. Do you need some divine intervention in resolving human questions? The innocence of a sunflower will not blame the moon for dark
Put off the lantern. I am waiting for the moon’s primal face. The lesser flamingoes were going to shed the pink color. Nude as a python, the kiss of pomegranates, kills by asphyxiation. I suffer in the hands of protests.
Though not a right, may I seek a fading, but yet worthy pursuit? For the many whose pursuit of chastity in marriage grinds to a halt, Could it not be due in part to being pulled toward illusions of grandeur?
Razor wire surrounds the prison, I say,’razor wire, why do you seem so cold and hard? Razor wire exclaims, i wasn’t the one who made me this way.” “why?’ i say, razor wire responds, ” Mortals like you turn beautiful
The spill of sheen after deep throat explosion. Not as special as the day appeared. Afraid of complete annihilation? Was it possible? Untenable? Living in a cavern full of bats? A key slept in a lock unmoving the golden doors.
I’ve contemplated sonnets long enough, And now I think I ought to have a stab; I’m not that sure about romantic stuff, But general this and that seems rather fab. Wordsworth’s general sonnets aren’t my thing, Although he’s written some
Journey of life, highs and lows Treading on with smiles or woes Love, laughter, scares and screams All in tow we pursue dreams Disillusioned, hope we seek Keep faith, when prospects seem bleak Often life seems a battle without a
I’ve always prided myself in being eloquent with the English language. Present perfect tense, Present Perfect Progressive I never did get around to understanding what the present tense was Or rather, being in the present. Most of the time I
While you are engrossed by a mourned silence within, Abruptly! You get caressed by a love, like a Ghost orchid, and you glide along, submissively! He is an enchanter to the astray, and like a wild fire, on an iceberg,
Even when the night air is calm and still you can hear the wailing of women from the past that flung themselves off of WIDOW’S HILL to the cold, cold ocean below and legend has it at Collinwood they’re waiting
( Dolly was a Lhasa Apso who lived amongst us for close to 15 years. She passed away in 2002) Here lies Dolly. Alias Dollykins, alias Rani, alias Master Yoda, Alias Shaithan, alias Devil dog, alias Gremlin dog A unique
Inside my domain every-one’s there Within my brain thoughts are there Flow of past and present is revolving Circulations of thinking driving me crazy Days are passing with same searching incidents Birthdays leaving us reminiscence of events As more and
How do I start this journey to your heart? From charts or auguries for direction? Should thousand ships from port with me depart, Yet East or West, where lies your affection? As steepest slope, ravines or swiftest stream, May stand