Italy poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of italy poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on italy are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
The hustle and bustle at the airport Some rushing, frantically searching for passport Mothers’ tearful goodbyes, Trying their best not to cry Sudden announcements from overhead speakers A crowd starts moving like follow the leader Pilot with crew in tow
Ciao Lecce, dolce Lecce Pink flowers cascade down from baroque rooftops past the watchful eyes of permanent guards Sunny streets the home of artists capturing the beauty to be carried home At the city center a pole surrounded by locks
Southern skies kissed with blue sapphire the backdrop, framing the moment Golden sun the yellow diamond set in blue Gentle my friend, gently at peace upon the sand of white when the moment washes over the soul, slowly, gently Lapping
Nature is wild and eagles and wolves will never be lovers. But certainly Poetry can overcome every obstacle and translates our dreams, desires, passions.. in images that evoke even a new, different Universe. It fulfills the very nature of Poetry
Words are left unspoken, feeling are listless We speak, but barely talk Venice was never so far Your silence kills me My effort is futile, the love we had is an empty boat Sailing with no hope to reach ashore
Sapphire blue turns to white As waves greet rocks of black Bella notte, the waves promise, a beautiful night While the road rises to meet me, and welcome me back Boats rock gently upon your sea The clouds turning pink
My father’s hands big as thirteen inch radials knuckles thick like good tread cover more miles than the road we’re on driving south to Shiloh, south to his hometown I’m along to steer free of ditches roadside stands slapped shut
Or, at least that’s what you might think. Judgement hurts in too many ways to count. I stand in the local thrift market looking for trinkets and such with my father. He came here to look for vintage picture frames
Love is formidable weapon It really opens New chapter With lot many things to offer Many wars were fought But we were caught With dilemma to see consequences With holocaust and occurrence What do you want to achieve? By being
Rows and rows of books wearing pressed monogrammed jackets aligned at attention upon the shelves edges stained lightly by time. To wring out one more droplet of thought from drying script These aging eyes thirst to caress sweet ebony lines
The world is a nasty-looking fruit, With a skin made of TV screens, Of omnipotent mouths spitting out hate. Through your ears and eyes, they always creep in. But there’s a way to survive, a way to tread evil’s waters.
The kids wanted a piñata, so we got them one; but I must stress that it had no religious significance. It did not have seven points representing the seven deadly sins, and it was not an allegory of man’s temptation
To the gentle heart, have courage. Through trials and chaos of the ever changing wind- Let your heart be like a river , Ever guided, ever flowing. To the fragile heart, have courage. Through starless and blackened nights That cover
I waited in my dream for you to come, The usual place, an hour before daybreak, Hoping to see your face abate the glum, As night discards its shades to grow so weak; The dawn will steal away the shadows,
(1) In old time, Before the sun stopped circling around us; Before it started to work as a painter of our shadows and the shadow of time over place; Before it adopted the hobby to boil sand inside a vessel
A scholar of sixty monsoons with an amass knowledge in rarity He looks like a dry seed that has wings to fly every narrow spot to sprout Elevating every sluggish being to refresh the unrefined English What roles he enacts
Had marathon client meetings, Productive, some not so great and Towards the end of the day a reluctant Revisit to a very difficult customer. Crawling traffic, snarling cops, blaring horns and People playing charades of abuse of all kind. Energy
As the becoming abhorrence, Becomes, My shattered self emerges Antipathetic,so Averse and gripe. I find the resentment, Take control. My cosmos engulfed, By tides of detestation. My love, my life, I see turning to hate. Objections and repulsions, Are all
I fall back into time and remember how loving and caring both of you were… What great time we had together…. Be it our Verbal Duel in English, Or, rickshaw journey to School together. After school snacking of Kachori and
Standing here at the crossroads I can’t help but to feel a little apprehensive About which path I should take but I just Can’t stand here after many mountains, valleys And rivers crossed. I guess it’s just a leap of
In ranks and strange constellations Neighborhoods bunch like uneven muscles On the elbow of a river that smells Of cypress and motor oil. They contain buildings you’ll never live in Houses you will never enter Even if every night was
A lame duck re-emerges from water of life, after paying for night of clouds. The sex determines the economy of a nation and democracy writes the future of a man. Who was bankrupt in poor country of rich people? You
Something is hurting inside me Ripping my soul in two Its never right. Never wrong Its the way of things. Why? Why does this have to happen? I feel something. Breaking apart. Falling apart. It’s hurtful. Its not going away.
REMEMBERED If I could remember the day, the when, the where we last met, all so easy yesterday with a picture framed and set. Within my head, always there available whenever wanted, a picture kept, a memory fair inside me
Fiendish and gruesome phantasmagoric denizens Dwell deep inside subterranean vault perform an evil dance Haunt psychic landscape with imaginary (yet realistic) Gargoyle visitations that cast a macabre trance Nocturnal unconscious invaders cavort and gallivant Disturb quiescent sleep with devilish and
Detaches, a part of me. To find some space. Time cracks a dark matter with unknown speed, colliding to release the invisible. Chilled particles land on distant psyche. I will give you blue rains. It hurts when I think between
I’ve heard that plants need the sun, else they shrivel and they die; but I saw a sapling under a bridge, through the other side of pane. It seemed like it were surviving, maybe even managing a bit of thriving;
Guess what I am writing about? A strange phenomenon of recent times. Bright and Colorful, depicts interesting times… Takes off the monotony, a peep into lives… Success epics , someone’s frustrations galore, Wise ones’ words repeated, in circles of lore!
Between want and desire few crumbs of words will not satisfy. Facts and perception build a latticed smile between tears. Discreetly life catches a miasm, a fault to commit suicide. When will the exile end, of hope, a holy womb?