Hawaii poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of hawaii poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on hawaii are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Where the sea meets the sky, Blue on blue. White sails, slowly sliding by, Azure hue. Warm sands, intense, bright sun, Calming you. Beautiful island girl, scantily clad, No taboo. House made of grass and leaves, And bamboo. Waves of
Something ominous and undefined, illustrative and versatile. Something ambiguous, and something so subtle it hardly exists. Almost is all these things and more. It occupies life around its every corner. It is the grey between the blacks and whites, The
Closed back, open back, on ear, over ear I love all varieties of you, Oh dear Sony, phillips, sennheiser or skull candy Congrats dear, you are gettin trendy Ranging from few hundreds to lakhs.. & from light as white to
It was a fast against truth, in support of unbidden body which took the history lesson. A star is born out of midnight accident. Darkness deems dark in siege of self-restraint. An embattled self seeks a counting. The money speaks
Wishing all loving friends very happy new year Though staying far away yet you are very near New dawn will be very zealous like crystal clear Welcome the effervescent sun with fervent cheer All your amazing dreams may come true
Love, beautiful and vibrant as we know, Each of us experiences this as we grow, The emotions they say one can’t hide, But does love also have a darker side? It makes us laugh, it takes us high, But does
Why are you afraid of deviations? It’s a natural phenomenon, When medium is changed light deviates, And the seven beautiful colors, Appear as a beautiful rainbow, Plurality is the offshoots of singularity, Let these colors play their roles, On the
If time stops for no one, not even for love A straight line unbroken from morning to dusk Then my life is hollow, there’s nothing spellbound And seasons of living are well traveled ground If life’s made of spaces instead
Precious pearls are thy teardrops Whose price exceeds to infinity. A weapon as mighty as a sword That can be your greatest defense till eternity. When salty water run down our cheeks The anger in us vanishes, A way to
A twisted journey starts on wings after the end of the road. Ambition sits in corner, nonchalantly and a tempest hollers around the spires. Broken down from parched ceiling a mural turns into a mundane knife. Lifts the rage, of
Hey, someone ask my heart…. What’s the reason for its beating…. Only one sound will come from it…. My love has come to stay in it. …. Hey, someone ask my breath…. What’s the reason of passing through me.. .
A faint knock on the door again reminiscent of old demons old dilemmas that die hard enticing me to the unknown, once again uncharted terrain with entrapment for life trying to re-define, re-invent what all take for granted why does
One beautiful Sunday afternoon, down by the valley where the waters cascading down the rocks upon the stony bed I sat, lost in reverie on my life continuous struggles when His shadows appeared, silhouetted against the fading sun upon the
I can never betray you for sure, Neither can leave you this way, For you are the one who taught me everything And nothing what I’m today. Everyone believes praying is a must, But I say that’s just a trust.
He couldn’t help wanting it pain of shame like a cinder Satan tucked it under his ribcage stray cats came and sniffed him he wouldn’t move pea gravel denting his patella there was another boy riding it back and forth
Round and round, I turn around. People blink at me, I never unwound. The world revolves with my feeble sound. When people follow me, they are time-bound. The sun travels on my arms. The moon follows my norms. I am
It was a big trauma. Granary went overboard, my boat was torpedoed. No romance was left now. At the burial of the moon aliens were arriving. You do not want to call it a genocide. The massacre of millions, of
Beauty, beauty and beauty, This is all what she say; Her trees dance, dance the plants The birds are gay. Her people roam all about Working all the day; They rest at night and never fight, And peace is what
The lines she wrote still linger in my mind, So full of care, caress and sweet regard, That when I sleep, in dreams, I still would find, Those very rhymes from such a lovely bard; The words though parted by
People use your business as a weapon, that’s why I’m a private person. I keep my thoughts in my head, so nobody can’t say that I said. I keep people at a distance, because too many people is an audience.
Their first conversation had few words, But seasoned it was with measured laughter. They agreed the tea was good, and the weather pleasant, And decided to meet the weekend after. He worked his beard a tad carefully that morning, And
Why don’t you remember? Remember again, Music of September, I still retain. We met in the greenery, A wet, lovely scenery, A teen age romance, The music and dance. Why don’t you remember? Remember again, Magic of September, Your shyness,
A holed balloon cannot hold air, A cracked pot can never contain water, But I dont know how, I’m amazed and wow, A broken heart can contain and hold love, Is it something against the natural physics ? Or is
whispers… through the dark deranged portals you evoke fear filled with angelic fervor on it’s textual base yet we dig much deep then ever before cries in the dark will light the spark of what we need to know still
Wynken Blynken and Nod??? (ah…oh methinks this pissant pooch woof lee barked up the wrong tree – reed don my mongrel friend) This poetic endeavor doth not boast nor brag to take digs on front page headline grabbing news, nonetheless
During the full charge of the afternoon words or figures tumbling out of you something the size and scent of work remember that it is unimportant vow to come to yourself pull back from those artificial languages feel your heart
One step the wrong way Is the path to this place within a place. The shops are different here. Run-down, Their beaten and smashed faces glaring With a menacing disdain. Everywhere, Schrödinger’s knife at your back, His gun to your