Gorilla poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of gorilla poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on gorilla are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
There’s a pile of wounded umbrellas overlapping in the derelict doorway, sure to be some kind of slumbering gorilla back there, grinding its gray knuckles into the tiles and broken glass. Hundreds of people walking by on market day, bands
Imagine if you will As you read this tale A dramatic crescendo Of the musical scale. Our story commences Beyond picket fences, Within a house so grand In a variety of senses. Up an ornate stairway, Past sculptures and statues,
Violets may wither and fall, Lilies may vanish from mortal sight, and the glamor of Roses may soon begin to fade. but eternally preserved are thy medieval looks oh Monalisa! Fair still for the desires and passions of present day
The train leaves the station on a misty night On the train is a lonely soul, leaving behind a life unlived Anticipation grows with hopes of a new life full of love, laughter and hope. As the train comes to
Your house is a historical landmark That’s been passed down from Generation to generation but little Did you know this gift you were About to inherit would cause Great chaos and devastation.. Your ancestors are getting Restless now longing for
Lipped-wet, Counterfeits. Fakes neither audible nor visible. The moment dies in our hands. It was a non- happening. Silence booms destroying the palace, of dreams. I should have become the scissors. This poem is not charitable gnawing at the underlip
On a small island cast away Lost in thought lonesome I stay Early stars shining in the evening sky Where am I, alone I wonder Why? Lonesomeness beckoning fear I see A magical book appears from the blue Emitting rays
My Contingency Measure in case of…Armageddon Aisle putt ta ma head but tween these skinny legs and kiss thine braying ass good-bye asper ma person, thine gluteus maximus a boot the size of a hand held palm pilot cell phone,
Your beautiful spirit has found it’s way back home. Your golden smile will always be the sun of so many people’s lives. Dearest Maya, as a caged bird ,You told your story to touch deeply, and profoundly. You deserved to be
A sage plant scrambles for the mob, walking out of bed and begs for a death. The adolescence had become graphic. Do you agree with the splurge of moonlight under the street light? The unborn stink was hovering after the
Behold, a new world awaits, With promises of a better future…! But the road is not so easy, With turbulent seas as a gift from nature…!! You’ll either learn to survive, Even in the harshest of conditions…! Or will perish
There we met, at street seventy seventh; my friend who’d bowed down with altering features, and me with my clothes getting narrower. We could not find, in this chilly present, a tale to help us recline on the pavement’s stone.
From my lashes fall a salty solution but never the solution to the trigger of my violent pollution. Feeding the well within me with ammunition of self-pity. My thoughts seeking through garbage dumps of my mishaps, picking up and hoarding
Were I decreed a free choice of fate, Insouciant orioles! We shall be one! Gold-tainted-black, early morn or late, I flit-flirt with you in the sun. No gravity of custom flags me down No laws forbid me to fly, flit
Sitting back and gazing at the contingencies, That had their existence owing to a lack of effort, A lack of attitude, a lack of passion, The picture seemed so dark then, so dull, When people had given up all hopes,
Love, I ache to hear your voice, sit spell bound in your presence. Be cradled by your embrace, comforted by your arms, Treasured, I await your coming. Will not turn you away, let you down. From that moment on, our
She watches him, every move sucks in his atmosphere, she fakes petty unconcern listless, restless encircling the prey spinning her web.. He sees all, walks away still faking it, she retreats smudging the smug hibernating until the next one lands.
Well I can see the golden Falcon of Edfu circling Abydos tonight in the shadow of a blue moon, I can feel the cool, cool desert winds walking the three star path of the Jackal back to Giza again pulling
That pound of muscle beating so hard Resolved to break every rib apart Or die in its venture with no life after Resounded the cage with a monstrous laughter Beating as hard as it could the muscle Sent into frenzy
Feel like breaking free from all Good and bad that I recall Free from the shackles of loving souls And from the shackles of fear and doubt Wonder if all feel this way To experience hews on life’s highway. Monsoons
The black slate, The white chalk, The lustre of a steel tiffin box. The drenched eye that read its first romantic novel, The inexpressible pain of your first heartbreak, The solace in a best friend’s hug, The fancy collection of