Predatory poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of predatory poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on predatory are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Surge of rage in domes of violence skins the history, becomes a frozen embryo of genetic markers, shimmers in society, race and native shirts. Enters into the creation of a saga accomplished by advancing poppies; there was no connection to
The unspoken words had the unborn quality. That homeliness sitting around the fire pits writhed in predatory hopelessness. Insensitive to flesh we were shooting the ducks in midair. Rapture for the dirt, deceit does not need a consonant, the intensity
Emerald irises up in Parallel rarely meet But now two pairs sprawl and bloom Neon hugs the sides While shades of green begin to colour the night Before long, you’re here Room one-one-seventeen Covered, stretched black divinity As calling, calm
Are we ready for what’s to come? Will we know how to behave? Never before in human history has there been such disruption. It was once a much simpler place. No more. The future is arriving faster than ever before.
Through the distance, this comes from Sweetness to shower on you her heart’s soaring affection growing warmer, glowing brighter and more tender to assure you, rich or poor, you are still her life across the miles she would like to
My prayers are not prayers And my penance is not penance, Remarkable, the patience you show, Admirably greater than mine, I assure; Incomparable, thy dedication, thou Dried and dried under the hot sun, With no food nor drink, continuing endure,
Like black birds homing in twilight, to the tree my thoughts make a perfect landing. I lift the silence in sleep. A flying snake enters a pink room. A bullet pierces the heart. No acolytes, I will catch myself the
Yes, you there, two seats in front. I see and hear you there, kicking, screaming, Determined to give your mother hell, Though you don’t know you are. You don’t know what you’re doing. All of us are born conservative that
We were kids and we were four Formed the best group of friends before Got to play almost all street games Not minding if sun already sets. Oftentimes, visit each other’s house Happily watched cartoon-series about blue cat and brown
Then young & handsome Now old & ugly Then very active and efficient Now passive & inefficient Wise & sharp then Foolish & stupid now Attractive romantic hero then Scary & hated villain now Teeth were a shining diamond then
I am seeing my reflection, In your pure innocent eyes, You grin ear to ear, Taking in my surprise! You garland me with your arms, I wrap you in mine, My clouded self forgotten, I relish our big hug time!
Mom’s the word…A BIRTHDAY TRIBUTE She was the eighth child out of the ten born to the high-profile session judge couple; She spent her childhood amidst her siblings in a traditional orthodox environment with an aristocrat touch in her lifestyle.
They lie about my looks, That I have horns, an ugly face, scary, That my haven is ever burning screams, burnt flesh, Yuck! I’m beautiful, handsome, all you will ever want, If its wealth, who can outweigh me? Luxurious houses,
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
O viola, go over the grapes and find an ageless green. It is difficult to be born again, undoing death. You swoon at the continuity of crossroads – with blue flags in your bowl. A rosette, without a winner. A
A livid moon had started a body count for undoing a book. The base thinks it has arrived. The death zones were unconnected by quality of crime waves. People have started sitting under green trees. A social outcast silently reaches
Are you a dream or a reality? Kissing me gently, touching me softly. Us not meeting is no less than a tragedy. Why could I not see what was always before me? The endearing smile, Stay longer…just a little while.
At evenings, Sun puts off her light as usual and goes behind a curtain woven by sea, rock and trees, so to have a break. Meanwhile, those with black heads and scattered hair go to warm themselves at the ember
The Violin Maker awakes and heats his glue in a coffee can rigged on a hotplate. He is aged and stiff like his wood piles of it stacked and waiting spruce special ordered from Ohio oak pieces from a broken
I Death doesn’t hurry it knows where we will be knows everything comes back to where it started like any small town Napoleon just keeps building its tower of crap and waits for the flies to return II Death is
Remorse it is consuming me My integrity My peace I look into the mirror Evading my eyes For I see the shadow Of the remorse I converse With you I see it Mirrored in you The discomfort I sense Emanating
Waiting for a chaste bread, whole life under the moon, to speak off the inconsistency of happiness, with a monologue of a needle in eyes for a madness of sublime verse. Canoeing in a frozen lake for a stranded rose,
I watched the wind having wicked fun today Stripping leaves from trees and hurling them like confetti Forcing flowers to frantically dance to any old tune Sucking up grit and spitting it in unsuspecting faces Snatching hats from the heads
Persistently Reaching And Yearning for a blessing and your Grace. Pursuing Relentlessly After You from my knees, clenched hands to my face. Before speaking with you O Lord my mind always raced, life situations sealed my fate, this wicked world
Open twenty four seven proclaims the sign across the front door A warm refuge for the bergies dossing on the linoleum floor Fluorescent tube lights hum and flicker The homeless beg for food and hustle for cheap liquor The air
Jinxed out was the sex panel on the honour’s integrity. Deep water a fish was found dead. The destination of your rival was feminism. I was talking of the moon without gender. Your fingers were probing the dancing words, in