Pendulum poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of pendulum poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on pendulum are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Life is a pendulum That swings between Life and death With rhythm of the heart Open to the river of life Fling into its music Each passing moment Spicing up life with love Life is not infinite Every skip of
between my guts and stars, somewhere in the middle when the heavens stands apart my mortal excellence create an exemplar focused on the divine idea the clock spins indicate the hours, pendulum swings can it be eternal? I’m closer to
Like every morning, he has just returned from his office and is right in-front of one of his roommate and so called friend’s lappy’; Going through all previous messages sent by her on Facebook. No doubt, his life has been
You make such lame excuses because you want what amuses hanging out with friends praising on what they find you promise to start life from a new page but like seasons it changes promises from your mouth continuously flow but
Solo, I am clock maker born September 22nd, a Virgo/Libra mix insane, look at my moving parts, apart yet together, holes in air, artistic perfection, mechanical misfits everywhere, life is a brass lever, a wordsmith, an artist at his craft.
You were a mere embellishment, plastered with small tools to to the wall. Your hourly and chronological toll from the balcony, each call going in vain once and for all. Ignorant Blurs oblivious and paying no heed, to your rusted,
Marionettes made to do with hands on strings Serpants smiling squirming savage stings A hope for justice as the pendulum swings You’re in the arms of dark angels that sing Coarsing through your blood is acid The road now you
The Layman (Or: When History Repeats Itself)// By: Fareed Ghanem **** He is a layman, just like a gulp of water from a brook passing here by chance. His features are gratis, his eye-brows a bush of terebinth, furze, chicories
Epochs// (1) Sometimes, time does interchange. But my grandma, who’d moved from her poor house to live inside my skull, is still throwing seven stones at the cellular phone, wakes me up each time a light emerges from the end
You’ve never starved yourself you’ll never be a runway model and for a time that made you sad never to be like an Amazon – though you found out they burnt off their right breast to make archery easier –
Critical conscience is not an admittance of ambivalence, But a philosopher once said: “You threw a rock at my head Fred!” A road along a path is but a journey to nowhere, If your cart is broken by a donkey
A little childhood collecting Waste papers on a garbage dump Asked me, “Am I born to do this job?” I had no answer A childhood begging on roadside Asked me, “Is my childhood born for begging?” I had no answer
Footsteps formed on the bleached evening ground, created side by side, slowly born to the nothingness of the evening, manifested to the midnight blue. No one watched, no one knew, the overwhelming power that pulled them to life, together, on
What are we doing? Where are we going from here? What are we? My stormy weathered friend I hear you scream. I see your dreams untold. I love you. My stormy weather friend. When you’re wounded who will heal you?
In this strange journey called Life, I want to be that lonely stranger, Traveling yonder to some strange land, Meeting some strangers on the go, Getting someone to know, Falling in love with some, Giving a part of me to
We are animals. Civilization, thousands of years in the making. The animal, millions of years in the making. Animal instincts etched into each cell of our being. Survival, procreation, deeply embedded into our souls. We think ourselves apart from, superior,
I am the shore and the sea luring myself in a ritual dance, quenching my earthen thirst with the liquid peace of my soul’s meat- the tumultuous clay’s restlessness numb in ephemeral, soothed by the penetrating rhythm of the immutable
I was fed up of school for wearing uniforms and me eking out punishments from teachers I was dreaming of college life which I thought would be like a bird freely flying into the clouds and repented for being still
we’d been cooped up by rain at the end of September family and cats. gradually contempt bred until sun and heat returned in respite, grass warming to please all species of toes. cats charged around unruly flower beds, flossing fangs
It was the middle of winter. A crisp white morning. Birds trilling in high pitched notes. Did their little feet get cold? I wondered, as I walked by listening to their sweet tunes. Deep in thought, a car horn peeped,
Twelve thousand days ago, give or take a few I tried counting up the seconds in a year But the numbers got out of hand, wouldn’t stay in line Wouldn’t act like numbers are supposed to I kept making mistakes,
The destination of life is same for all, Just the path gets contrasting as we crawl, A few reach the destination with comfort, And most reach it with a lot of tiring effort, In the end heads are high for
Soaked trees from the rain and fallen leaves, that cover paths lined with glowing pumpkins Houses with dimly lit porch lights and Halloween decorations welcome youngsters of all ages Children running amok dressed as their favorite character and yelling ‘Trick
Exhausted and homeless Without financial order Without security and acceptance She became an easy target He zoned in He reeled her in Empty promises He gave to her She almost lost herself In words’ entrapment She readied herself For life
I’m gonna hit the jackpot They’ll have stars in their eyes I’m the Kahuna bigly The father well The winner justly And I’m right on the edge Snakely eyes in the back of my head Rolling highly I’ll be home
Black hole in my china cup, You swirl round in vortices; Rising, falling, twirling up, You mind me no notices! In your twirling eye, black As pitch, I see me in a café; Sitting up and sitting back, Stirring black-hole
a white sheet covered the semi-permafrost, steam formed a carpet over the delicate car windows, the blue curtain in the sky, splattered with white bleach stains, the best kind, the wanted kind, as your name was dragged from the heavens
I kissed the pillows of her cheeks. Covering myself in the blanket of her caress. While here nothing is heavy. Maintaining the balance of smiles in the bed of her arms She doesn’t mind my snore, relaxed in complete comfort.