Hood poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of hood poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on hood are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Truth is I’m just another woman forced to face The crime of a close friend Truth is where I come from everything is allowed except peace From hookers and hoes to junkies and crack babies From victims turned murderers To
Seeing me in full in the looking-glass Is a stranger with new and senior tasks Not recognizable to me are the long gone years of the past Now with loss of hair and exaggerated features not recognizable to me or
MISTAKES I often wondered why Eraser shrinks gradually to vanish for ever I realised that the more mistake I did while doing Home work, the more I have to use the eraser to correct my mistakes I never for a
Overturned, years of stasis Paralysis by mental blockade A political metamorphosis. Afoot at the general election; Vengeance of the Manifesto. The interregnum, the entrenched vote Tranches appear, on Revised Register Deceased coded, in numbers resurrect. Beyond the grave, claim their
Nothing like you I had ever met… The crowning star after sunset… Like unsung silence of wood… Crushed through dove hood… Love is not happiness to survive… It is more than sweet realities of bee hive… Sting is poisonous only
She came to visit me from America, Everybody shouted, she is my replica. She is very pretty, white and pink, She wore her jacket, made of mink. My little lady always looked very busy, Serving tea with her beautiful tea-cosy.
Sitting on my rocking chair, I write from the perspective of a wheelchair thanking God for open doors and cursing people for treating me like a dog on the floor Sometimes you need things,simple things, good, bad things will come
I travel between two worlds World of imagination, another of daily settings. I work, I talk, I sleep and eat And do all things, all for common blessings. My essential hours guide me To assume my conscious self Amid the
Outside not a breath of air stirs. Heat, a shimmering wall, Rises from the blacktopped circular drive. Sprinklers spray, and Water sweeps in waves Splashing on red-flowering bottlebrush shrubs That hummingbirds love so well. Inside are comfortable chairs and couches
Infant hardly know what is money Child hood is beauty without money Youth is filthy sans money Young age is a struggle to make money Middle age is meant to save money Old age can survive only with money Dead
Come Naga, come: from the scented tree and spread out your hood. I will pull you down on my lips One day. Classical porn, Neanderthal. In your stark nakedness I wanted an asylum. A place guiltless, hands blackened, moony face,
Life is an endless Journey Journey is smooth some times Journey is tiresome most of the time Journey is pleasant few times Journey finally ends over the time Journey during child hood is filled with fun and frolic One hardly
Awareness becomes a burden, with opposite thoughts in conflict, Crawling like roaches on your skin. Sage or beast it was same. They run on the bricks in sun or drift at night on unwrapped voices. Every thread of a dialogue
Driving my car across the country, numerous years ago, going to a new place, Changing who I’d know A loud bang broke the boredom and blue smoke filled the air, engine was A ’knocking, a sound beyond compare I rolled
(1) On the road from Jerusalem, while echoes of the horn are still tearing down the walls of Jericho, I recline on a table of sand. Sparrows cry joyfully to me, in a space void of wedding ceremonies, picking up
Human relations are complex in nature Relationships may sway extremes from in separable to invisible It takes years to understand and feel comfortable with each other It takes a moment to destroy the love and faith that was built over
My favorite singer, Justin Bieber. He calls his fans beliber, And i’m his believer. His songs are really good, that it would make person skip his food. Turns the listener in a good mood, Even for little red riding hood.
flirting with fire blowin it up in the most earnest desire her perfume was led to basement blues remove those shoes bask in the news then you will se a falsified game of reality in society we got hidden games
In last journey he wanted to have a free run without rumors of reconciliation. From years back he watched – friends, disappeared one by one. He became his own enemy. The ravines were waiting for the sacrificial throw of a
How could it not be sickening When I see your countenance? The shadows, They’re hunting me; I’ve given my heart and my soul. Like a vulture, It just couldn’t satisfy them yet. How gallantly agonizing, To leave oneself in fear.
Couple gets attracted to unite in Bliss Couples Union culminates in anticipation of baby Couple dreams of either a Boy or a Girl Couple celebrate with gusto if the child is either Couple will be crest fallen if the child
Those memorable childhood days are getting rewinded and I am now feeling an upbeat mood. Look like my buddies remained there while I feel I was pushed out far away Those mischievous friends, Those nerve racking games, Those magnificent swings,
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,
Generation grips, I am the street in dysphoria. You run, shout, the arc bleeds, you become your enemy that kills the alphabets A statue was hung upside down to eject the violence from plastic lips. Blood stained sidewalk throws a
Born May 5, 1818, in Trier Germany to Heinrich and Henrietta Marx, sans the third of nine children (and second oldest heir) Karl Marx thinking begot incendiary sparks, asper his two most controversial publications titled The
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
sailing along these cumbersome waves with scorching rays upon our heads paddling against the winds of time so i will sing as bell the chime riding towards our yon of passion poesy to the cliffs and peaks of infinite glory
Routine activities seldom add pages to the life’s file while human sentimental values take back stage When my daughter decided to re-settle abroad I felt happy for her taking the path of prosperity As the D-day of her departure neared
Tonight I will not sleep I will call you in my eyes. My hands were trembling when I opened the book. Words you uttered long back tumbled out ashen-faced. I started burning inside. Where did we take a wrong turn?
We found the kid outside of McCleary walking in a daysuit like some land owner off some nineteenth-century hacienda he got in the car stinking of moss and unwashed armpits there were at least two kinds of fluff in his
This is an account of an incident unexplained, Many say to a phenomenon supernatural it pertained. For no one can answer what happened that evening, When it was dark and the moon was barely shining. A loud cry had resonated