Lifestyle poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of lifestyle poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on lifestyle are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
My aura shining around me enlightened by what’s inside me A diamond who needed polished got it, my eyes unblinded Thoughts and acts realignment dark nights I was found in Cages I was confined in but wisdom help me survive
Shards, Your shards you have to pick up, Shattered all over the flo’r, Scattered like someone knocked over a house of cards, How can you look at yourself? Blame the shards for cutting your hands, Cuss them out using every
Well you say the lifestyle he lives is wrong God created Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve, well hell who are you to judge without Weighing all the options, did you ever think That maybe he’s still dealing with
Listen before I start the story I can’t be more heavenly than the heavens Or more angled than an angel I know I am just as vulnerable Than a vegetable more beastly Then a savage who couldn’t manage the damage
Inside me there’s this unique unstoppable and ever-growing fear I cannot live without spitting a lie out of my mouth At first I think I’ll be saving my own skin , but it keeps on getting worse My lifestyle requires
Here I am, Standing in the dock once again. For the evil one had sought and gotten an appeal of God’s prior judgement. With his legal standing, The devil named me as the respondent. And intiatiated the service of progress
The harmonious companionship is of no easy access Especially after many betrayals I’ve experienced as a witness From the uneasy feeling my tough disguises derive By whom the romantic elements are stolen from my life? Nobody can discard all world
Inside me there’s this unique unstoppable and ever-growing fear I cannot live without spitting a lie out of my mouth At first I think I’ll be saving my own skin , but it keeps on getting worse My lifestyle
Mom’s the word…A BIRTHDAY TRIBUTE She was the eighth child out of the ten born to the high-profile session judge couple; She spent her childhood amidst her siblings in a traditional orthodox environment with an aristocrat touch in her lifestyle.
Sun sinks slowly twilight looks at the sun and waits for the night to fall with darkness Life also drowns like dusky sinking sun and ends with foggy dusk wearing evening gown A tiny thought sitting on highland stares at
I’m seeking my immortal foe He must mosh hard and enjoy Edgar Allen Poe You should have a secret identity that nobody can know … Be a secret sexy super-villain, be my, John Doe! I’m now hiring, inquire within! Don’t
Identity is a sculpture Sculpted by force Internally Externally By choice We are born blocks Our guardians make the first mark They share the chisel with others With society And the work in progress is put on display How it
This is the tale that seldom gets told But remains as a legend to us all getting old. Its subject is rooted in seedy old bars And con-men who waved from their ill-gotten cars. So many people, their age-range diverse,
Beyond the monstrous face Beyond the fenced feelings Beyond the dark night that came after our sun. Beyond the tongue, that turned our lives, Into an orchestra of fights and we bowed for the end. Behind the screaming silence Behind
JOURNEYS WITHOUT MAPS/ AFTER FIGUERAS, CATALUNYA when seawind blows it spins the moons, fills lunar curves in golden masks that revolve above the ornate faces of the harbour clock when the seawind blows and moons revolve wind-fed wheels feed and
Cross– the first and best Christmas tree Raised aloft on the Mount of Calvary; Had for all around gifts enough Paid by pain from hardest stuff: Iron, steel and animal hide While Mother Mary anguished deep inside At the foot
Welcome, my friends, to bustling New York – The port of lore, the door to more, Abounding, of course, in scores of stores And words and Fords and public transport. Adored by humans of every sort, Inviting all to come
Into the mountain I look and see, beautiful creatures, I behold and thee, with tall trees and green grass that’s smiling at me. Into the mountain I wash my face and drink it’s fresh water, a clear blue sky gazing
Shylock and Portia, in a court-scene, One to shed blood, and the other Not to shed blood, on one and the same condition, To be true to the court, in favor of justice, On rules and regulations, against Antonio, A
I was the type of person, That held onto things too tight, Unable to release my grip, When it no longer felt right. And although it gave me blisters, And my fingers would all ache, I always thought that holding
While walking to the store, I pass by so many beautiful flowers. There is the beautiful pink roses in full bloom and oleander. As I walk further, I see the beautiful crepe myrtles with Watermelon red, pink carnation and pearly
Much time has passed, now and then When incited by your furtive glance I asked myself for the first time Was this that one stroke of chance? Much time has passed, now and then When I dared to hold your
A tiny little bee buzzing on a tree flutters its wings inspecting every flower for the divine nectar! A tiny little ant scurries its way waving its feelers inspecting every particle if it is its food! A chirping little sparrow
Softly butterflies flutter by Your fingers tracing down my spine Chemistry sweet between us two Through it all, eyes say I want you Your fingers tracing down my spine Smoking coals now lead to fire Through it all, eyes say
My imagination sets sails on lotus leaves and paper boats; for I never ment to travel far. But to picture the little mermaid’s adventure along the foamy edge of oean’s floor! My imagination builds nests high up in tall trees.
When did we become this? When did it change? When did “I love you” Start feeling so strange? When did “I’m sorry” Just turn into words? When did the feelings Just turn into hurt? How did this happen? I ask
Murmurs of laughs filling the gaps- of time and reality are his trademark. How can I not wonder about what’s next? Affability is something he easily conveys- but don’t let that let you get carried away! He can fence and
I know I bring you satisfaction. Mad but you’re masking. Packed? I’m unpacking. You want to leave. Best believe it won’t happen. Hold on Ma. Let’s breathe and work backwards. What is the battle worth? Your tears coming after words.
Your heartbeat pulses against your grace filled throat as a lamb lined up in a row when the spring wind is blood scented and flowers are faint–mild, bee thrummed, delicate beneath the harsh metallic flavor that makes your mind swirl
There’s something about the feeling i get, when i’m lying on my shower floor slumped down, looking at the water travelling down my body as if the water will wash away my identity, my sins and insecurities that it is
Even should Lawrence expiate the pity Describe in metaphor as he will the fig and snake None of this is as anything to this Two centuries later exceeding the equal of the take I mean, what goes through your mind