Gypsy poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of gypsy poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on gypsy are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
My gypsy soul, my gypsy soul, oh we are on the move once more. To hidden valleys and secret places, to hear the ocean’s almighty roar. I long gave up in denying the yearning of opening my wings to soar.
When I look at the 2 pair of eyes, I wonder about the perception. What are the adjectives used, What are the defining values? Given the negative light, Of a self-image, And the ka-ching, Ominously amiss, I wonder, if the
Well and we are just like One big happy family Travelers by day, party Animals by night, singing And dancing around Firelight… Some are my lovers, Some are my friends Still I love all of them And I am their
Her voice is an awkward drawl among the manifold chatter, the pitch a bit too high to even assimilate in the uniform blather. Her skin is one too many shades darker than the general throng- a constant and incessant reminder
ASTORIA rising with the darkness Stepping into the velvet of the Night and like a night bird she takes To flight, dark in the shadow of Moonlight as the magic begins again Deep in the heart of the big black
I watched her as she swam across the lagoon And her smile much brighter than the moon. The clam breeze in the air whispered gently, As if a marching band played a loving tune. I was quickly invited into the
If there had been a wizened gypsy I’d crossed who’d laid down a curse upon me or revealed I would die while driving a car it would make more sense, this milky inner weakness I feel when I consider getting
Enter cycle two and the Breaking of Bondage… Well what lies down this road now Heaven only knows but I’m not gonna be your prisoner anymore, I don’t want to look back on yesterday tomorrow and regret the dreams I
Wasteful truths about life unfold; to float in dreams of what to undo. Like a candle waiting to be put out- They bristle regret’s shadow into a kayo. Playing laments meant to scaffold- kindred spirits; caught up in a rue!
If I possessed the howling wind and the haunted rain that falls from the lonely gypsy skies, I forsake them all to lose myself in the vacuum of your pale blue eyes. Your pale blue eyes where the western wind
Well and in the season of El Nino the grey ones came I felt the earth shake violently and winds of a hurricane he whispered an ancient gypsy curse and drove her insane they made the headlines underneath the one
Untouched by words aloof from emotions dipped in water, but not wet blown by air, but not dry cold in heat, hot in cold detached from surroundings formless like smoke roaming from one place to another like a nomad, a
She’ll only dance as long as you don’t watch her a heavenly symmetry in the distance between elbows, knees. Gravity is only a suggestion while she progresses through nameless steps, her unplucked body stepping across thresholds billions of sisters have
I saw the scene full of flowers and I saw the Actor choking, drowned in petals, leaves, which entered his mouth, nostrils, ears, covering him until nothing was left of him. Poor Actor. What a death! Smothered by the flowers
Wheels are in motion again – clank clank ! The gypsy in me is packing up, unsettling the settled. Starting afresh, no want for hope. No desire for sorrow, subdued is the word. Put my books in a box, pack
In the eyes of a child, I saw that it was heartbreaking That adults can compete For simple assumptions While it is simple to tell Beautiful and funny nonsense. I saw that he dreamed of recklessness And that he was
A walk in the garden, Your warm hand in mine. The sound of silence Fills the air. Listen, can you hear it? A butterfly tiptoes across a rose petal, A breeze carries a baby’s cry, This is God talking to
No more bad thoughts its gota stop Be positive and grateful for all I’ve got No more mental breakdowns keep it together I cant be mentally unstable for ever Its the start of a new beginning today I must block
Your eyes are the only Christmas lights that deserve to be seen all year long. -Anonymous Switch off the TV, it is performing to blind eyes Unplug the internet, let’s disconnect the outside Pile duvets on the sofa and we’ll
Look at the sky It’s rather black in October— a ruse that it’s about to rain when it’s only threatening not intending to do any harm or good whatsoever. Look at the sky keep watching tarry a little, until your
Oh my love, Thank you for bringing me this precious gift, Life without you my love, Will be nearly impossible, I rather stare death right in the face, Than losing you for more than one second my love, I feel
Lost in the dark Stumbling, falling Scratched and torn Savages bark The ones called friends A light shown bright A ray of hope A ladder of escape Two hearts beat as one Fell into each other Hope was their drug
Beset current despondency goads me again to express Reason for disenchantment and issues crucial address It’s not just plain strangers but ones considered as own Despite all indulged civility apathy in return got shown Kept seeking sane rationale searched the
awake and lonely someone said Just look at me somewhere someone, is looking right at you, turned around wonder, who are you? he replied, its me moon awake Sad, alone for centuries, awe Sun leave, cerise. while afar. . .
A path that exists between birth and death, this life is never straight. Every time you need to confront obstacles, even if you have already fought many battles. The book of life contains both happy and sad memories, and it
Murky was my soul, she came in like a sunshine, We walked on a clone aisle, our lives were divergent, ‘tween my acumen and wisdom, she was the skyline. Lost in her thoughts, omnipresent was her sight, Falling in love
A fire of passion Burns inside me Eyes twinkle in mischief Longing to explore The bond of unknown. Heart pounds within As the lost soul Awakens the love From pain to delight Of my lively self. The pulse of passion
Someone dropped a gun in the crowd – it clattered like candy garish glare of night-time marquees scent of every onion in the world sautéing adults walking on, a mobile forest of legs intent on getting somewhere doing something a
Though I could hardly breathe My heart raced within me. The sound of his voice excited me. I need to confront, lift my head up, admit to my mistake, love I deserted, but still crave. Did he forget, time erased
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