Orb poems bring the best collection of short and long orb poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great orb rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these orb poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on orb are here for you.
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
Majestically it spins. Eons in place. One of countless. Silently reflecting, glistening in the void. Dance of the worlds graceful silence, choreography of the cosmos. All spinning, dancing to creations music. Immense it all be. Yet, finding comfort in the
metaphysical impulse ensues through the flames of resistance shun its existence etched beneath the tapestry of loosened conclaves alone in desperation in the night heavy sounds of cosmic illumination in temples of fire reaching ever higher on point locked in
Winging my way through the air; high in the Cascade Mountain Range. With a serene wilderness lake just below me. Reflecting an exquisite brilliant sunrise of various shades of yellows, oranges, and golden hues. Reflected upon the glassy placid surface.
Do words inspire When spoken in the soft shadows, Of the veiled darkness? Are the lips that utter, The Holy Grail to wholesomeness. When shredded or shrouded In somnolence, Are words, then, A solace? Does silence amplify thoughts? And words,
In East Africa, here in the Serengeti desert with the sun as a giant orange orb,breaking the skyline, Casting prisms of light upon a monstrous oasis. From out of the midst of a thicket of brush a young lion family
the way you walk the way you talk the way you comb your hair beautiful eyes as if a angel in disguise the touch of your hand makes me understand pitter patter of soft sandle feet whispers in the corridor
When distant chimes announce the midnight hour, And full the milky moon hangs in the sky; I hope to meet again your dan’rous power, And pray this abstract love at last can die. Each nearing step, each heavy, panting breath,
What? The moon’s beautiful? Yes, ’tis so beautiful and how fakely indeed, oh, so foolish are the minstrel , to weave wreathes for thee. Thou misshapen tenebrous orb; What are thou so conceited about? Thy brilliance is not thine own,
I’ve had dreams of other places, other places where I have lived. Places different from where I live now. Places that seemed just as real. All we know is what our five senses allow us to know. There is more
Tides starts to rise, ripped up by the currents; The birth, snuggled to keep up, tenacious children; Ripples fretted the body, filling, reaching; Stream of water, lowly creeps, lulls to the hollow bed, Trust forth and flow in the rivers
Light of illumination filled the tiny vortex of my mind A world colored river earth cloud and storm Forestry crosswinds and fire Ah natural madness beautiful madness A sweet perfect chaotic choir So I can drown snug in a sublime
Our race against extinction. We all come from the same cradle. Though we think ourselves mature. Our childish and petty ways are truly obscene. We are products of our environment, fine tuned to fit the scene. Some are black with
Having to forget you is a misconception. I understand that things happen and these things we often have no control over. Consequence. Watching the boat leave it’s pier is one of the most beautiful things. My honest opinion. The beginning
Divinity isn’t bestowed no one interviews you for that job insanity is a big part of the benefits package once you’ve actually experienced Truth you cease if an animal became human – evolution in action – what does a human
Marginality// By: Fareed Ghanem **** (1) When eyes rain on beautiful steps along a novel’s paths, while you stay out of the text, know that you are put in the margins; when you boil like sleepless volcano, just to furnish
Sometimes I drift away crossing the time limits following the rivers’ way or climbing the higher summits Happily with the birds I fly or join the wolves while they cry Sometimes I like to be the sun sole and aloof
You say I’m rebellious. That it’s just a phase. But please listen to me when I tell you, that’s not the case. Some say I’m despicable, that I’ve lost my morals, but I’m not the only one, that their words
The chord struck again Without any desire, the tears did rain. Unable to find why, The angels did solace. But, the inner demons smirked hysterically, “Oh! what did you gain?”. If empathy is what you want , It is lame!
Farthest you have gone but in thoughts remain Time alleviates sorrow loss hardest to explain With undying devotion you raised me just fine Telling what was right not cross over thin line Placidity of disposition far reaching foresight Helped me
I mawkishly effeminate sentiment, memories plucked from wood and field merged in a sentiment of unutterable sadness and compassion microscopic minuteness of eye, misgivings of grave kinds mockery crept into your tone, molded by the austere hand of adversity moments
Lines on forehead are deepening. No signs of abatement of fire in our bellies. The hunger we inherited is only comforting the mouthless. Broken laughs. Strange bedfellows chopping off the murals from the lips. A body rots, stinks. Maggots fly.
Wrapping arms around myself, I sit down mutely, Numbed by a pain, Spreading through me. A gnawing pain radiates, With a sting of words, Hurled thoughtlessly, Locking me in a maze. Words that cut through, Causing a throbbing pain so
O light, where liveth thee? O light, darkness kills me. O light, will you ever come? O light, you only seek some. O light, why does dark haunt me in your presence? O light, go away, you have no essence.
It was the winter night of that year When tricky fate stormed my family When my beloved mom was left alienated With the abominable tragic demise of my dad And was burdened with six posthumous infants in her lap. The
Towers float in the belly of the ocean tilting metronomic in the gentleness of a windless afternoon. No lights shine from the glassless windows and no bird settles ever on the glossy green roofs. The horizon never settles but exercises
When I was borne my mother passed away and one day father also left the hut leaving me alone and my destiny was now homeless, helpless and orphan vagabond I was now roaming around the road and streets in search
I open my eyes trying to pull- in his sweetness closer. And as his laughter darts away- I wake up to reality’s punchline. Time may have set us apart- but here I am lost and clueless. As he speaks words
Of words and meanings Of lives and then some A word spoken. A new life with no end. A new piece of soul. Ice, fire or water – coexisting anomalies. Some words scar lives. Some heal them. Some words draw