Madhouse poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of madhouse poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on madhouse are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
There is blood on the walls, and bodies on the ceiling Everything about this place is extremely unappealing In this madhouse every one is depressed This place is disgusting, and misery is our pest We have no exterminator to keep
Up against her What best you can do Forget the last letter of her name To wonder how she would be an incomplete sigh; Double back thereafter, gently Rid yourself of the first letter … This will remind you Too
When the broken records play The grooves of profound agony, they may Watch the peace they built The piece squelched to silt. When forgotten verses cried out all the pain And the tears saw the fort fell apart To the
We don’t come alone We are fire, we are stone inside of me grasping trying to reach forth the silence etched inside my brain strength comes from within to reach my faithful friend Black knights with evil wizards draw bridges
I think about the soft velvety eyes, Wet in wait- Of a resolve of distance. Yonder do they stare at- Looking for the clouds the eyes love. Blue sky gazes down at him too, Benign and protective of his space.
I awake to the gloom of a cloud covered sky, There’s a dampness that floats with the air. A stillness and peace has enveloped my world, And I don’t see a soul anywhere. You can already smell the rain on
Do you object to sexual encounters in the clan to save a semi-god from extinction? A political consideration? For you becoming an otherself for future generation? I will not return to the cave for a bell jar of bones in
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;
Dream the dreams that once had tip-toed softly through your sleep Dream of the immeasurable, so silent and so deep, Believe in the impossible, yet be prepared to doubt Your whispers are just dreams of night that haven’t learned to
Gaze into the mirror at the face behind the mask and wonder if it’s really you, or don’t you dare to ask? Who can know what lies beyond the mirrors fragile face, reflections of another life; another time or place?
Lucid, abusive Tongue in cheek divine Stupid, elusive Lost soul of mine A snap of orchestral fingers to summon the suave illustrator Mohawk punks and minions to smash the limp masturbator Loveless, acquiesce Arpeggio flutter ripples Convalesce, Fancy dress Breasts
I have peeled off my eyes. Fear of unbeing creeps in, genes were escaping. The thin affair bends under the burden of vague uncertainty. A smoke rolls out from choking throat. A word leaps high from wounded pride. The author
You said I was important, I believed you, You said I deserved better, I believed you, You said I meant everything to you, I believed you. Then I moved away, It was time to put those words into actions. Days
It had been a chessboard and nothing else from plain cardboard and perfect squares standing up on the bookcase in the living room after the old man died no one knew where it disappeared no one asked no one cared
Though barely clad, He was fully attired With chocolates of mud, Which even pasted A leg-burrow Of a small Walking scarecrow, What a sorrow! A sore -eyed And malnourished child That developed A leg bandy ’cause buckling from A Have
Neglecting the presence of choiceless pain, I became singular and I said I would not allow life to slip through my fingers. Looking inside, beneath the rags of awakening, makes you rebel against the decadent forgiveness. Belief in dying was
Small things were, Witness to genes- Of freak mutation. Tooth in eye, Becoming boat in blindness. Witch hazel, Fails to stop leakage. Thumb with beads of lymph – Stung high in stillness, Wants to peel off, The concept of injury.
This day you left this world that day I am experiencing hell without you ever since like a Torn kite flying aimless like thick dark clouds hovering creating darkness in noon like Waves over the sea rising to the skies
At times, when I, my lowly state assess, Find only much too small a feat to boast, And lesser still the wealth I do possess, Though now, away from youth my life would coast; High titles, I have none, and
Happiness lies in : Finding joy in little things, Every little blessing, Significance of the insignificant, Enjoying every moment of life. Graceful aging with beauty, Gazes growing with love, Waking up to a new dawn, Admiring the tiniest things. Moments
Well there’s a chimpanzee playing in my flower bed, there’s a ghost in my attic raising mortal hell, I must be going crazy ‘cuz I haven’t even taken any pills and this can’t be real, I tell myself you know
It was a pearly sphere, Running in aimless circles, Glittering and radiating The wondrous rainbow colours, Upon the green floating leaf– Its home for a vanishing moment. Spurred by the wandering breeze, This gift of the Heaven , Played a
oh ye death,you ocean of death roll away, please, roll oh ye abyss, fly away from us millions of souls in thee are buried, sleeping until the sound of trumpet sounds when you strike faces are painted with sorrow beauty