Genre poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of genre poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on genre are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
He started in an infirm tone as if the poem were escaping through his clenched behind, images and meaning forcing their way out, evoking a limp echo from his moist mouth. It had to be some elder enthusiast reading a
Rhythm and Rhyme reach the Listener. Put him behind bars and begin to beat. Thoughts of escape, a tortured prisoner, he resists and is met by quick defeat. Possessed by Flow, with no exorcism, he is stabbed with a double
A flight of inspiration, An art of imagination… It is a Kite of hopes That light up the lamps of lives ! Like a chariot of ‘Venus’ Drawn from horizon to horizon; Like ‘Jove’ the Swan Flies from earth to
What is this you call music, it’s embarrassing how times have changed, this is my generation we’re talking about, I really feel a shame. I miss the old school jams, felt connected to the beat, slow dancing to the music
When a full moon was taking a bath by the serene lake, you moved about in abandoned identity, your sides flaring up. A slate gray nubion cloud was tossed around by a tall tree. Hotstepping you despaired to prevent a
‘The Cry of our Children’ is simply a marvelous collection of poems, full of emotions and feelings in one book by poet Ruth Andrews. Though the writer has dedicated her book to motherhood and child- mother relation, this book has
Travelling with along, stout dark man In the burstling city thoroughfare Talking incessantly about immediate enjoyment Of unnatural genre was of good old days, When we found ourselves shopping Delusion in cramped dimly lit economic pub Where the roaring music
In love’s brief hour, A new joy is born, quite uncommon, Spelling rhythms of stepping affair coming up. Half drawn eyes glowing, full of fineries, Giving gentle knocks in hesitating heart. It is the glorious hour, being in passion fever,
Waiting under the opaque moon a primeval instinct takes over you and you start arriving. A black bone renders the ash on your forehead and you complete the circle – reaching childhood; you start climbing the ladder, for instantaneous release.
Man of few words, He scars his badge of honor kept himself a shield of neglect, holding onto tears that dripped no longer an ode sang the orientals ” ‘t was summers of an ancient time, He had visions of
When the angels created you they danced They sang and played with you constantly They laughed with you and had a smile on their faces all day They held you tenderly in their arms while you slept The day you
I was driving home. I was almost there, about to exit the ring road. When a small red car, driven by a woman with short dark hair started spewing dark smoke from all orifices. She slowed and pulled over onto
From a bird’s eye view, In the stillness of night, A sea of beautiful lights, Soothe my aching eyes. Blinking lights through a canopy of trees, Winking stars twinkle, Tiny droplets of rain sprinkle, Healing the scarred soul. Mist hides
Tear these eyes out of these tired circle of bones, make them see beauty hidden beneath the frailness of lost perfection. The doom so seductively draped in velvet only to offer to the life dance. What I chose is whispered
Splendor of a moonlit night frozen in vacuum silence of desolate air lies within reach. Let the mind break its golden cage and spread flapping wings. The sky and stars, trees and earth will absorb all the steam and bring
When Time is Rosy Relationships rise to Glory When Time is thorny Relationships dips to Agony When Time is Normal Relationship remain informal When Time is cruel Relationships acts dual When Time is Elapsing Relationship gets into act of Disappearing
A longing whisper in the heart, When pain oozes, Leaving a trail of, Untold feelings. The emptiness gnaws, The lonely soul, That cries for a smile, When memories fail to soothe. Glaciers of the heart, Melt into tears, With a
Battle remains between white and black, a synthetic truth and a bald faced hornet. Aching violence was spreading on moon. I was tossing around the stars placing the apostrophe in the end. There was a conflict in pain and the
I now see sadness on the pristine sand, In faded footprints, you have failed to make, More so that sands were once huge rocks, so grand, Before their fate, that only sands could take: To be the dunes, where dwell
Beggar begs for alms with folded hands Corrupt demands bribe stretching his hands Beggar begs to fill his tummy Corrupt take bribe to blow up his tummy People cursing the beggar throw coin at him People fearing the corrupt give
Hazel eyes and long curls of chocolate hair, these were just what caught me first. Clean skin, unspoiled, never marred by the crooked calloused hands of man. She was and always will be the paragon of beauty, and to only
Happiness happens when you least expect it. It can come after a while of being rejected. When you are feeling down, life’s moving kinda slow, happiness can happen from a simple hello. When you admire someone and they say hi.
The Fermi Paradox: Where is everyone? The Universe is nearly 14 billion years old say those in the know. Enough time to populate our galaxy they say! But is this really so? The elements in our bodies where created in
With my solitude, glancing the dark skies, I’ll find no one worthy who can hear my cries … So many bright faces I’ll see, still there will be gloom, With the thought of not seeing your face, my days won’t
When that tall and beauty smiled at me When her sparkling eyes pierced through When her hand shook mine When she confessed her Love to me I was an inch away touching the heavens in Ecstasy We were the couple
This is my portrait of you. It speaks to me in strange, colored verses, in whispered codes of ancient languages. I often get that illusion. You are not easy to ignore. I’ve long studied its dog-eared corners, one by one,
In autumn water becomes fire created from the endless love of stars, and feelings fall like old leaves navigated by the nap of lake. When world gets drunk from every sunset… I know!You will come…where? I know!You will be everywhere!
Like the cold old mountains And the sorrowful seas Are there, forever, Immobile; souls and minds. I’m lost, Patiently lost. Like the tender fairy wind, Comes with such magnificent swift. Like the roaring river To be absorbed into the lover’s
It was one of those bad days where nothing went right In frustration I banged my forehead against wall Frustration turned into anger and my forehead resembled a mountain I put Ice over the bloated forehead to melt it down
A friend evolves from the strangest of life’s corners, But settles in your heart and does you the greatest honor. Your friend lifts you up whenever you are down, With just the strongest of shoulders you will ever find in
Tired ,frustrated from Life and job I have a Dialogue with God , With eyes closed, I ask , Dear God what is Happiness ? Is Happiness subjective and just one’s perspective. Or is it Utopian, With rich for more,
Neither the victim nor the convict I am the witness of my excruciating journey I saw myself rising I saw myself failing I tended myself alone sometimes even inflicted pain on my own self selfish as I am called I
The bushes, I remember, have been there in the tales of my love! The breath, the tears, and the aura of virgin forest – The art, the sighs, the darkness, the motorcycle, the roads, the unending journeys, have been there!