Opposing Forces poems bring the best collection of short and long opposing forces poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great opposing forces rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these opposing forces poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on opposing forces are here for you.
A classic combination, a fairytale foretold Dragons save princesses from knights in shining armor Their lungs behold a blazing anger, protecting your gold Convincing eyes always fool me a defining charmer Fire rages Let it breathe, listen to the crackling
A house is not a home If not safe and warm, A place of protection where one’s cherished, shares opinions and feelings without fear of ridicule. Is a sanctuary from outside forces. A home holds secrets, Freedom from politics, it’s
When mired in jadedness Or weary of Truth, I sleep babe-like in your nakedness, O bosom pal of my youth; The nature of mothers in you Suckling my sleep! Or when dark empires above Shut my mind, I star-and-moon sketch
It was a dream delicately woven Fine threads of silk intricately spun, Embroidered with hope that made it brighten Vibrant hues all blending into one. Under loving care the cherished dream did thrive. Soon it was time for it to
Poverty constrains, To take the risks, Hunger forces them to bring, Their innocent daughters, On the streets of hungry men, The girls under thirteen, Not yet an adult, Exploiting and exposing, Their boy like bodies, With a long stick in
She shakes it, spreading the exuberance, gushing out of its folds ’n Crevices of long-ago, like a perennial stream of jubilant euphoria- Converting matter into emotions, from the tangible to the intangible, Embodying an idyllic confluence around, fervently fluttering to
The whistle blows to sound the charge and over the top they bustle and barge, covered from head to toe in mud and soon tainted with flesh and blood. Up the ladder with slippery rungs, a scream of rage from
Corsican born, and an Emperor mighty indeed. Who from obscurity came up to prominence, who from French shores the attacks of armies repelled, who had at his disposal, Europe’s resources, who to Saint Helena from French shores was expelled, of
Where the tide line of reality and dreams appear We stand. Uncertainty and reassurance walking hand in hand. Enjoying the kisses of the salty breeze, at the same time feeding the wind it’s flavour. Unable to indulge in our creation.
You are not history, You are the victory. You were even not selected in air force, But you commanded all armed forces. You had a vision, You completed impossible mission. You are not only a guide, You are india’s pride.
Yes, I don’t believe in love anymore For love, has turned an enemy today. It’s treacherous, cunning and disloyal, It wants – it is greedy But never gives – is a miser. It’s no more trustworthy I feel, I know
Well you are the Virgin of Chasity All fired up in a warm shade of Indigo You are the unification of cosmic Forces in the shadow of Mercury An adaptable soul but you never Compromise your virtues Born of the
They were boys of Carson’s army, sons of Ulster, loyal and true, marching off to France for glory, fighting for the red, white and blue. Description of T Atkinson on enlistment height 5’7”, weight 122 lbs, chest when fully expanded
On the shorelines of the Adam’s River, Bald and golden Eagles from near and far line the meandering river’s embankments. Salmon struggling upstream to spawn. Chancing the elements. Bald and golden eagles are screaming in delight, as they eloquently glide
Searing in sunlight and dense in humid breath that uncomfortable nether-ground we ancesterally dashed across to escape the swift and sharp toothed now is a show of umbrellas and baking skin joy of wading into the delicious cool feeling sand
It isn’t easy living on the nose of a moose. Especially, if the big brute is charging Through the spruce. You must think quick,when Mr. Moose decides to Drink. “Mr Moose,” tries to drown me each time. “Mr Moose”Forces his
If the thunder roars, and should the lightning splash across the horizon, Or should the earth quake beneath our feet, is it God’s voice that we are longing for? The loud sounds and great displays of natural lightning are not
Busiprione, klonipin, prazosin and prozac stepford wives vis a vis stimulants offering an emotional uplifting dalliance cathartic against the depredation of panic attacks melancholia and obsessive compulsive disorder bearing down hard against psychological maladies delivering a near ecstatic state of
“HMS Trincomalee, a British Corvette, sixth rate warship of 28 guns, Five hundred gross tons was she. The King’s Pressman am I, handling a pressgang of five, My firm service of country and King. Her ships bell marking time; bosun
There once was an imp whose appearance was vain, his behavior was foolish, even his speech and imposing mannerisms were maimed! From those eastern cannibalistic lands afar he and his kind had once been blessed, indentured to serve the superlative
…like no other. Tiny blue speck in a void unfathomably large. Self aware beings truly not aware of much. Self impressed with no reason to be. Obsessed with sex and violence driving forces of existence. Compression point coming. Evolution of
When just a little boy inured to bodily harm I stuck a bean inside my button nose which caused parental fright and alarm yielded putrid odor like weeks old black pearl jam stuck between toes Foul fumes a nauseating offal
I once had two sparkling eyes full of hopes, But the familiar forces made them blind. They made sure to check on my survival frequently, But that was just to butcher my innocence. I cried out loud for help every
Colourful twinkling lights are streamed from the fireplace to the staircase and I give in to the aroma of gingerbread cookies and empty my 3rd shot of eggnog “what was your first kiss like?” I sneer at her senseless icebreaker
Cast down thy irreverent staff of judgment! Train your thoughts of vile intention upon thyself Cohort in honor to know thy standing before another Turn ambiguous behavior to the good of another’s help! Upon the wish and hope of future
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.
Kiev in the shadow of early spring Winds off the lake lands and Reinvented again… Something of a new dream, new And improved like magic with The waves of a hand just like Tribal spirits breathing the Breathe of new
On an Easter Sunday reminiscing histories. Mulling over life’s mysteries recounting old losses reckoning unknown forces. A kindred soul adding warmth and glow. Dispelling the gloom of a sense of impending doom. Once again light and cheer fill the room.
She is a truly beauteous being With a sweet countenance and noble spirit Calm and composed and ever so genial Doling out her love to all so freely . When she is around you feel so safe Comforted , fearless
While melting-down he was going to cheat the death. So be it, bribing the inevitable. In search of me, you and self, life was coming to an end. Standing on sharp edge he wanted to go back to beginning of
Repentance of things past and presence, and anticipated misdoings shall be of utmost importance. I shall be more open and vulnerable, being more willing to “Be Wrong”. Evils that are both subtle and also blatant shall be exposed, fought against,
No more bad thoughts its gotta stop Be positive and grateful for all I’ve got No more mental breakdowns keep it together I can’t be mentally unstable for ever It’s the start of a new beginning today I must block
We know it’s hard to believe From what your earthly eyes can see. We know it’s difficult to accept Since you are deficient in sensory depth. We know you haven’t been sufficiently prepared To come to terms with what’s really
The storms rage on, beating brows and bending backs Trees in the winds; swaying else they may snap Collars pulled tight and heads bowed down Not daring to look up at the deluge all around Through gloomy days and long,
Puffy and white clouds float, On a cool breeze of endless hope, Shape shifting to natural winds, Against the horizon, powerless to pretend… Transparent from close, Cloudy from far away, Is it specific to a clear, Cloudless perfect day… Are