Materialism poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of materialism poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on materialism are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On 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
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
It’s a fluttering dove, No…mayhap a trembling rabbit, Why does it sound so loud? The shaking, the trembling Now the throbbing, the thudding In my ears, a stampede, The gasp that awakens, confirming It’s the beat of my heart, Out
…So. I said: what is beauty? He said: it is the impossible being real, it is the kohl of a string on the forefingers of a guitar player, it is the explosion of astonishment on a beautiful lady’s waist, it
One’s existence was threatened by the overseeing iguana like crested disguise. Repressive, explosive eyes. You are trapped in words beneath bewitching smile. The ‘V’ sign for violence becomes more obvious. That hits you in face. The eastern wind is blowing.
Mind cant mind its business It keep on dancing to its tunes It gets agitated at the slightest provocation It gets disturbed on losing money it gets agitated on not making money It weeps when others make money it feels
I ran away from you to strange cities. But at every corner, I ran into you. The fresh sea water carried whiffs of you. The little boys on bicycles spoke in your voice. The surf tickled my toes with your
An autopsy was being conducted with brutality to silence the rising dialogue, pulling out the lethal crunch of scripted history. You want the kiss of a parting grain. A secondhand face crops up in a newspaper. Are you ashamed of
In an infinitely large universe Peopled with hospitable suns Centillion poets are writing verse! The law of infinite large numbers runs Counter to the principle of anarchy In which my poems are not mine! By way of an infinite hierarchy
Lets start from where we all know it best, Once upon a time…. Away from cruelty and crime, Lived a beautiful LOVE, Peaceful and contented as a dove. Clever and witty, With smiles so pretty. Naive and vulnerable the soul,
In the tiny truths behind the hidden words and blood streaked cheeks, you drink ozone in deep layers. I will count all my sins and light the candles in a row. On the pillow of moon, night slept in half-slumber.
Clouds strayed in the sky Like lambs in the pasture; Winds roared at the high Like lions in the leisure; Thunders struck on the roof Like shoots of the troop; Fears brood in the heart Like snakes creep in dark;
We wander in this desperate land. With hopes of anticipation. You hold my hand, I hold yours. Like woven threads in wool. We are fragile leaves in an autumn tree. Ready to fall in this timeless abyss. Nature gives us
She rocks the stage with elan Speaking not much with her clan Music her soul her heart Hands always moving like a work of art Strumming with fourths eighths and sixteenths Counting 1234 in patterns of beats Never a count
Orang Ulu… loping through mottle-green light of the jungle-track, lighter than dawn-mist and nimble as wild-cat. Hunt-hounds around-him are bounding and wailing a death-hymn or baying for deer-spoor or fat-ox or wild-boar. Ulu agape at the edge of a clearing,
It will be painful, generational. Hard to keep up. The old will resist fight the loss of their world. Change will be blinding, the fabric of civilization fraying turning to dust. Everything known will be obliterated. Humanity loses its identity.
A sparkling path was chosen by one, providing mature wines for the cultured, elegant polished restaurants, operas of critical acclaim, endless parties for the ordained elite, cars which navigated and spoke, manicured sprawling homes, and… Shoes… closets and closets of
What to do with this fatuous heart, my friend? Who always yearns for you As, it is still standing by waiting for a veracious friend Who has left his mate loitering in this brutal world. Here, I stand staring out
Pigs that grunt With runts who run Horses that neigh Eating curd and whey! Elephants that trumpet Gobbling croissants and crumpets Sparrows that tweet Offering a melodious treat! Monkeys that chatter With plantains on a platter Parrots that screech While
Like you once said Now we, no longer whole Nor known by name Familiar once forgotten now Our thoughts our words An insubstantial haze Of weightless dust The mass and means Of what we were The remnants of our being
I can’t stop writing when I think of you You are morning’s cold water splash You are the shower of rain from hanging clouds You are favourite song on my lips You are the dream keeps me awake every night
Surviving in a holy mess she fathomed, the storm inside her. Grateful, she was of the darkness who created a chaotic perfection inside a devilish beauty. She feared the wolves, yet, it was the one who ignited the forest fire
Wet, wet, the rain does fall Damp, damp, it doesn’t care at all Drip, dip, the drops come down Drop, drop, makes you sad as a clown. Grey, grey, storm clouds above Cold, cold, get your hat and your gloves
One passionate life, A desire to fly, All I dream of, Is living in the sky. One passionate dance, One loving kiss, One glorious night, Under the sparkling moon. One healing touch, One unexpected move, All I desire is, Your
Hardly does anything trespass through the intricate niches of delirium, A shout practically hovers around in oblivion and a morning yell is supposed to be suppressed in the enthusiastic turbulence of dark whirl Darker emotions have to be admitted and
Let us take another road. The boundary was not clear between crime and pardon between disease and murder. The cleft in the ravines had hidden the rifles and landmines when we were busy in worshipping the rock face with folded
Your name is marked in its ledger. It will find you, catch you flatfooted. Trap you. Have you. Keep you hostage and not ask for ransom. This is snake charming – rattlesnake charms the man, lulls and rocks and poisons.
A study of soul continues; hold back the animal, discovering yourself in blind light. Awaken the hungry child of autumn and give him the dreams of strawberries to eat, time would drink his tears sans lips. A second death of
All my walls are taken down, Nothing but little pieces of rubble, And I try to pick them up, But I fall down myself in a puddle; A puddle of hatred, of ribbing I’m broken and completely inside, I’m stupid,
Rain, go somewhere else, I’m pained within. Wash away hurtful experiences. longed to hold onto my innocence, beauty. flawed personality, though wounded. Rain, don’t improve appearances, It’s my heart that needs mending, Start renewing what’s most important, It’s not my
In those corners of your eyes my darkness prevades I wish all the doors gets locked from inside Why does our western gleam fades in twilight shades And still you’re searching for me in pale moonlight The night never brings