Poc poems bring the best collection of short and long poc poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great poc rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these poc poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on poc are here for you.
I want to live in America But a target is on me in America “They’re stealing our jobs,” “They’re raping our women,” There’s no hope for me in America We wanted education, work Just to live on the land you
After seeding the clouds they were going to buy wet lips. Seven minutes to make a bomb: a micro-chip, ammonium nitrate and a circuit, one headless body squirts a long jet of blood. Run, run for the cover, with nuggets
Tell me not to rise again, Yonder slumbering magic hands of futility Have lulled me to rest in suave peace’s grave And are inviting drowsiness enough to blink. Thanks thou merchant of senselessness Trades countless pains in forlorn heart Till
Your insistence to become something, to overstay existence was not fair. On a row of white shrouds – holding innocent beings, death was walking barefoot, crying. Between farewell and stupidity, staccato, shooting questions to life. What was the need for
How can i thank A most faithful friend Who by my side Has always been Who’s never judged Nor left my side Everyday together But left at night This friend whose name I never knew Who never spoke This friend
Life just keeps ticking on sans any rancor so to say On face all seems perfect with core in utter dismay Apathy tried attempting and walls I built around Now jab at susceptibility my old despair compound Past zest needs
Shame took over. The eyes caved in. Rolled inside the skull. Tears dropped making a pool, an ocean. Anger took over. The eyes bare a stare. You won’t be able to bear. They will pierce through you. Don’t look here.
When I started seeing you, needs were accumulating. A great paradox. The price is high for stoicism. My inner life gets battering Give me something to think of escape. It was not a deliverance. I was learning daily from the
I can’t remember feeling so incomplete… Time and distance are a void… Where there was you. Loneliness, a mind possessed of itself Groping in twilight revelation. We’re sojourners on a trek Spirits compelled to give and share. Trading smiles we’ll
I keep my eyes searching for the light under the shade. Hear that? It bellows like the clock. “Come to me,” “It is time.” Please understand that I can’t enter this grotto alone. My experiences seem so few. You can’t
I am a beautiful man though once I was an ugly boy worms split at the advance of my sneakers they knew what was coming I never shared chocolate turned sour to spite me this is no caterpillar and cocoon
As the gust flips Chaffs over; our mortal page turns over in a flip when the bell tolls for whom so ever it would While mortals mourn and grieve; in a mansion fairer than ever imagined, a throng in celestial
Daunting golden towers triples on a desert horizon Off the highway, – where is the caravan? Pierce your sword here into the tan dune side and let the aloe vera flow out; A paradox that lingers on chaffed lips –
From the sneaky shadows and frightful darkness, his saddened soul released terrifying wickedness. Things which had died, arose from deep inside. Perhaps it didn’t really demise, but simply hide. Even he was surprised, but dismissed his pride. Our own heart
First Pre-Heat the oven, approximately 200 degrees, Gather your ingredients all around, For sweet you will need sugar, for savoury some cheese, Be careful not to spill it on the ground. Mix the egg and sugar, beat to a smooth
When we hum and lose the tune We always have hated it Enjoying the music And tapping our enjoying feet! Music fills my heart,music fills my ears With drums and beat It may begin With hums and vocals it may
Centre of the belly is the core, core of my life. vividly, vibrantly, courageously lashing out at all the fine points. Ripping through veins and scattering through wounds. slithering to clear. splurging out, splurging, splashing, splashing, splashing mess, mesh covered.
I thought I saw you last night, Holding a hurricane in your hand! I beheld you in the fading light, Although I failed to understand. I’m sure I heard you in the morning, Teaching the birds how to sing. They
The successful man has talent. Talent, perhaps developed, perhaps discovered. And so he works, to become better. The successful man has money. Money to fund his talent. His talent, which will lead to his success. The successful man has friends.
“You’ll be safe, I promise”, reassured his mum. “But its not you who’ll end up sat on your bum!” A conversation they’d had most every week but it didn’t make his knees feel any less weak. “Now come along, Harry,
Frightening rain clouds on the Eastern skyline are aglow, infused with a coppery color caused by the protruding angle of the sun. This coppery infusion has a message: Nature has taken control of this reflective wilderness evening. Displaying a bond
The descent starts with a dance, of tears and fire. A culture of lids lowers the salt, the silver, the gems. Antithesis to cremate a golden ascent. The night long vigil had a naked puff. It will roll now in
The red, orange, yellow and gold Flamboyant falling leaves Stirs the autumn in my heart Compelling me to believe To love life’s every color with same vigor Why winter seems so long Fall so short Couldn’t it be longer My
Leave your worries by the shoreline, And run your bare-feet through the sand, Let the water be a soft bed, When you cannot bear to stand. Make friends with flying seagulls, And hold the sun up-to your palm, Before you
Celestially blessed heavenly anointed. With paths defined singularly pointed. Bliss known a virtue for which most pine. Sharing and caring are similarly divine. A few stick through a lot along get lost. For all choices errant, dearer proves cost. Do
Unimpeachable, the shrine wants to move on with snippets of pain. Man has failed the god. Teats were becoming omnivorous devouring the faces, ears and eyes. What would you like to eat stings or thorns? The curt bruises. Are you
Dear Pain, Thank You……………….. For holding me in your soft hands when the mundane world ditched me, For caressing my untouched soul when the crooked world shot poison leaded arrows at me, For standing with me and facing the brunt
The same rhythm of a million years, Today is not today. The same rituals of splintering spheres, All acts of the same play. The same longing that filled The first vagrant lone poet. That grew and dreamt and then distilled,
The war is not enough, The death is not enough Now someone maintain a silence Because they want some more death, And many of them want to live, But don’t forget, they want death, So many deaths! Is it mine?