Materialism Poems

When You need to focus On something, You have The camera! When You want To communicate With someone, You have The omnipresent Mobile phone! When You want to Cook a Quick something, You have The Microwave! When you Need some

As a society, we have reached the point where vanity has overwhelmed sanity Where we prefer big beds instead of big hearts Where we aim to live in big cardboard boxes, hollow ones Where we choose to take shelter alone

Will you come to the love shop with me and buy me some love? Sell me your jet black heart and I’ll leave you a note, You know the world can be yours if you’d just let me know, Well

I want to fly, I am born to fly, God gave me a soul, which cannot die. I want to fly, I want to cry, I want to experience every emotion, to feel glad and shy. I want to fly,

In a cool blanket of water floating, the expansive green leaf gliding, on a lake serene and shimmering, caressed by the breeze mesmerizing, with tranquility So alluring. A symbol of vastness, a sign of openness, pink and white they float

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

You came into my barren world When I had fallen short of life With beautiful dreams ever dreamt of Filling colors to each and every dream of mine With the dazzling aroma of the shining moon With the soothing breeze

You could say that some people are a diverse beverage of preferences; some are mixed, some are stirred, and others are even shaken. Your dad’s anger reminds you of a mixed coke and rum, but his passion reminds you of

She is desolate, slender and feeble , yet she has an unshaken sound will that instills energy and hopes into her humble heart to yearn for pleasant conclusion to her withering sapless body . Staring at things around through her

She canters freedom like wind Gallops wilderness like fire And into metallic dreams She blazes banter with reverence- Only to chute through life’s greenbrier- letting seasons mark her deviance! As she gaits, bittersweet love is dinned with a shako of

Gently caressed by the breath of the breeze, branches sway atop tall lofty trees. Restless leaves, to gnarled fingers, cling wondering what freshness the new day will bring. Hopping about on long leafy arms, fluttering feathers displaying delicate charms. Beautiful

I heard the shepherdess sing The song of dawn upon the hill Merry go the twinkling stars In shelter of their dream The sunbeams come Dancing upon the lake When the yellow traveler Makes his sway Flowers open up their

When darkness dampens your devotion, The will is there but devoid of emotion; Remember to hold your head high And kiss every violent wind which passes by. That violent wind takes you to places unknown, Places of future palaces and

Just a look and they cast a spell on me those beautiful enchanting eyes; As they captivated my senses, yet emancipating my heart into the skies; Elevated much by the setting around, those dark eyes in a darker guise; And

Find something you’re passionate about and let it consume you. Do not run from it. Let it keep you awake for 48 hours at a time. And while you’re running on zero sleep, create the next wonder of the world.

You are a lovely memory; But, today you are only my reminder…. You are my reminder to be careful… Be careful of the people I invest my time in… To see people for what they are And not for who

I am a woman, not an ordinary woman But a woman with gutsy heart Destiny has been cruel to me But I never wished it to change I am a woman, not an ordinary woman My eyes searching for my

I am euphoric, I am analgesic, I am your friend. I will make you feel better; I will change your life. I am extracted from the from the opium of a scarlet red poppy. I can give you a sense

The aesthetic beauty of twilight , Reminds of a lost soul, In the fleeting moment of bygone years, That vanished to oblivion, Surfacing in the sea of thoughts, To bring back the silent hopes, Wishfully strewn in path of life.

Yesterday I saw a dream, That I was in the factory of chocolate and cream, I saw a number of donut shapes, And the wonderful music that I can’t tape, There were so many colourful lollipops, But the fountain of

Remember the season, When you and I become friends for a reason, Since then we’ve been together, In happiness and pain it doesn’t matter. We capture every split second, That’s how we reckon every memories after hand, The felicity that

Only God’s love can find us Only the love we have in Jesus Is all the mercy to heal us From heartbreak and sorrow Fear of tomorrow The longing we carry inside Of our broken hearts Only God’s power and

Often yet not frequent, I’d see this young delinquent, An exact image of whom I were most recent, So to say that I stare at my past thus avoiding myself at that instant. That very moment, Ne’er ought I insinuate

The skies are grey, why don’t I say hey The skies are purple and we’re kissing in front of people The skies are pink and I say I love you in a blink The skies are red, I invite you

Walking on the sand No one around My feet move forward Stuck to the ground Never will I wade Never will I swim For I will fade Against my own whim No soul to complete me No one to trust

From the land of bestrode came Ambrose the toad, With boring tales of a bureaucratic charade. Why would this old fart, with always the same start, Repeat old stories about the British Brigade? He’d tell you everything he could, Though

My love I’m in a dreadful dream Drifting in an empty lie. Quickly loosing time As the seasons fly by I continue to tell my self that there is nothing wrong. As if the world never rained. I dream the

Before the spill there was soaring. And then anti-g. I readied myself for the ultimate fall. This was the poetry of submission sharing the pain of disillusionment. Who was pretending of liberation in a see-through heart? This was the time

Are you sleeping with hate? I wanted to know, does it have a meaning? For we human beings, any equals in plants and animals? There was this audacious betrayal of a brute force to behead a beautiful lass, a scion

It’s close to midnight, My thoughts are taking flight, Averse to my sleepy plight, Restful sleep would be a delight. My brain decides to spark, to ignite, Thoughts cluster like a series of kites, Now I imagine pigeons in tights,

Everything starts with a piece of something. But she’s already in pieces so how come? Such a dark journey, she wasn’t telling. A tragic story. Ending— there was none. All was black. She’s not blind, But her hope was. There’s

I am a product of you all, Everyone tried to shape my life. While I tried to please all I forgot to please myself. One day you wake up, You wonder where, where did my life go. I ran through

Beyond the storm of screams and groans And cries of a wretched tortured people, Lies a child curled, fists to his ears Consumed by the roar and fury Of a haunted Peace. Sweetening his ears now burned to whitened noise

It is that time again for all we have lost to be regained and our weaknesses to be strengthened and bent choices to be straightened. Come join me, let us rejoice make your choice because life is what we make

Sometimes I feel so happy Sometimes I feel so sad So sad that I might go mad I know why I had ‘Coz I had got separated from my friends But I was not glad To see my friends ignore

O life, O beautiful lie; Blinding light, release me from your tight embrace, For even the light deceives us, leads us of its own vices Under the guise of splendour and the veil of grace. I have broken down, and

My mother should be an author She carves her soul into millions of pieces Leaving it behind in all of the family photos When I see my mother I see a woman Who wants to hide her soul in a

ever in two and the one in the three became one summer is gone and the rye is now only winter high it is the deep water long a sparrow less song in a long tall winter the autumn spring fawn the least

Inheriting the dust of street something of a lofty ideal in politics of poverty, I want to get back to my native moon.There are too much wounds here. My green blessings came from the dark. Sun was altering the geometry

Expedition of life starts at dawn. Trainers come genetically, custom and society fill the gap, we start a journey, the route is misty. I started for the Kanchenjunga Half of the track was well lit road rest was chosen weather-wise.

When I close my eyes Everything tumbles down. All that I know, All that I love and cherish, In seconds, turns to dust. A bleak vision of what may come… All I can do is sit And weep for my