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
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 –
The flower blossoms, the raindrops touch the petals, rainbow hugs the sky, wind blows in rhythm, the divine souls dance on the earth, the sky claps at all…. when the ice of sentiments melts in between me and you you
for self deception sulfur fumes incite mood swings soaring to clean the malice, reaper of gravity zero what was the price, of a tongue, mimicking the greatness? between birth and death, for survival of crotch, undressing the fear, terror inflicts
This is mine not yours I control every force. Take it easy and share Selfishness is not fair. Greedy declare Ownership, to build Castles on sand. Waves smoothly Shave castles and run. Systems of a fool Abide by harsh rule.
Melancholy doesn’t leave it settles in paints the world grey and yes it’s a beautiful monochrome but sometimes even sight becomes lachrymose, then tone is known as just a piece of soul in a different pitch, life seems loud and
She surfaced from the blue sea like Aphrodite’s child in all her splendor droplets of water sparkled on her body as if she were covered in precious diamonds. I walked over and offered my name she submitted hers so willingly.
I see building blocks ferociously multiplying around me. Into people, places, things An ongoing chaos of nothingness I am standing still, witnessing vacuum Trying to breathe in this noisy ensemble One sigh at a time. Dumb charades, my favourite childhood
Time ticks away, Questions pour in Answers flow as crashing waves Against solid rocks The mute sky looks indifferent Is the era of clues over? Smilingly I pretend ease Watching, listening, chatting animatedly One eye on the clock Rhyming with
The sky is sobbing and will not stop Drenching me with cold big drops. Dashing back indoors Dripping all over my clean floors. I shouted up to the sky “What’s wrong, why do you cry” A loud crash and burst
Our freedom began with the historic words At the midnight when the world sleeps India will awake we did wake to freedom It’s now the sixty ninth year of freedom But what sort of freedom is this A handful of those
His stony rampant presence swamps my gut with frozen fear, rearing embittered bones. Forsaken by my angel, away she flew when my favourite shadows died now I am alone with quarrelsome bladder and skittish quivering bowel. The wicked ogre proclaims
Walk ever faintly with me, my love Barefoot upon the salted apron shore Let us sip the fading western light Savor the bodied flavor of recent wounds Bow completely to descending night Heal imperfectly beneath comforting moons ..until daylight reveals
One man against A mountain— Steep And, inhospitable! A man called Nelson Mandela— And, a mountain called The Pretoria regime! He was determined Like the proverbial spider… He was not one To give up! His crusade against Injustice Landed him
Outside not a breath of air stirs. Heat, a shimmering wall, Rises from the blacktopped circular drive. Sprinklers spray, and Water sweeps in waves Splashing on red-flowering bottlebrush shrubs That hummingbirds love so well. Inside are comfortable chairs and couches
Feathery snow on tree bough gently shades, the closing dark, wind through silent oak, shadow’s stretch reaching o’er the twilight glades an ever constant curdling chill evoke! Frozen cheek, bitter cold and deadly still lest fear betray the haven of
Dark clouds fill the sky– ashen wind brings empty rain to my roof. My fingers lie calm! her fragrance floats into nothingness….., The woodpecker takes me deep to the forest, her past year breeze echoes gently in hills, And, like
It was in you, the beast. Reading your private thoughts: tribal instincts to gather tools. Dwindling belief. You are left high and dry after the deluge receded. A big fire erupted in your house to burn you alive. Footfalls of
The beauty of thine essence is the one, which never to be compared to ye. As, thou art the miracle of this alluring nature. And thy is the beauty which exhibits thousand works of the superior lord. From whence I
Dad are you and mom Going shopping to the new big Mall? Here is my list, please get them all A big Football, A few stickers for the wall, Energy drinks to make us grow tall, Two racing electronic cars,
In the middle of the night, homeless, a poem begins brooding… walking into a London fog, watching a grey train chugging along a grey track. Someone cuts the train of negative chugging – We see Helen Keller lighting up word-candles
Unsullied pallid canvas propped on easel again To paint picture afresh sans any of nasty stain Imagery to be sanguine with cheery kind of feel All gray must dump now for new vibrant appeal A multicolored palette of vivid