Puzzle poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of puzzle poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on puzzle are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
A darling princess named puzzle-o-pia Of puzzles, she had a cornucopia When she solved them, she was in utopia The Queen worried her daughter, would get myopia! Losing her most precious puzzle, this was the little girl’s phobia So she
hopscotch, retrieve a pebble from the lake, sitting under a tall tree i will wait for leaves to fall on water; i will see through my seeds a relief of roses, overnight in the soccer field tiny mushrooms popped up,
She is a cold hearted Walks with random dresses and those messy hairs Her stunning expressions melts the tough hearts She is silly girl with so much class Her character becomes story which cant kept in an any frame She
You toppled the invisible burning the unburied buttons joining the history of names. Will I be able to communicate with straw to find out the age of the unarrived seeds? There is too much violence in green blood. The broken
Words are mighty weapons, They lash you like a whip, Cut like a knife, Slicing you into pieces. Pelt you like stones, Making wounds so deep, They leave a scar, Forever in the heart. They pierce you like arrows, With
In a box with rusty padlocks in a corner of my head, Are the broken toys of a childhood, laid to rest in premature separation. Drowned emotions and strangled feelings, together dressed in black, Are shadows of an inquisitive soul
When life deepened and words rose to a mystic high , When solitude became a beauty and deep inside could not understand if pain is a blessing or pleasure a boon , when wind whispered in ears sweet nothings ,
Surrendering to- Which they have no control over, Each day they are together- Every time they look at one another, They give each other a part of themselves. Whispering promises of tomorrow- Her dreams, his wings- In the embrace they
Hindsight of the past 3 years, Reveal the growth of a new face. The first instance of accidental “touch”- Perhaps Fate knocking on our doors. There onwards, The pages of my journal Were crusted with memoirs That stirred the soul.
I ventured to find within myself for years long, I looked deep into the abyss of my darkened heart In search of “The Soul”, The biggest puzzle of my life! I struggled to know the one who’s there Hidden under
Children laughing when at play, bright sun rising to greet the day Sweet cream added in my morning coffee, horses munching hay A rusty nut that just breaks free, an ancient majestic noble tree Wind at my back true point
Where the tide line of reality and dreams appear We stand. Uncertainty and reassurance walking hand in hand. Enjoying the kisses of the salty breeze, at the same time feeding the wind it’s flavour. Unable to indulge in our creation.
The world’s a puzzle of inconvenience The members who inhabit it are worse than fallen angels Ghoulishness, fears, abhorrence are their manifest examples And for them there’s palpably nothing like repentance Rare, are the souls who proliferate forbearance As malicious
The call came into my blood through a darkening on a hot morning rumble of traffic cleared like a party when everyone stops talking that first deep cough came a long way that glint could have been sun on chrome
I must accept the insignificance and solve the puzzle of night. Possessed sunlight always pursues the shadows of words. Philosophy of veils descends on awareness casting silhoutte of differences. Nocturnal sweat of sky overwhelms the grass with dew. I pick
we never played hide and seek rarely worked a puzzle: she asked for the truth about Santa Claus after she knew the truth looking for an exemption from mundanity. despite his creepy magic and omniscience she decided he would be
Well, at entrances of all cities, there sits a monster as huge as a puzzle. He asks; travelers still give the wrong answers before being devoured. There comes a man with two legs, two hands, two eyes, two ears, a
Liquidity crunch turns you into lip slave. The candlelight bed has the broken legs. Asleep by the boat you sway in dark. You are still a number in the books to be fed. A jigsaw puzzle in the economic boom
All over the world, today Hearts are opening, filling the air with love As couples everywhere remind themselves Of the unbreakable bonds that tie them together. That’s one way of looking at it. But what about those who have nobody?
Self-realisation does not come when you expect it. It is beyond being aware or understanding your situation. It involves radical thinking Awakening happens when you’re fed up And you want to break the vicious cycle Unchain yourself from what society
Urn was carring the snow unmelted like the soul of night. It was a very strange winter like araucaria puzzle. Who was dragging the evergreens over the chaste cliff? All the incogerent roots have broken the placenta for new gods.
The sun seemed to lose its warmth and The Clouds grey and white, were busy Occupying places all over, adjusting Themselves like a piece on a puzzle board. A season, I tell you, it was a season of departures. A
We speak like rattling rain And fumble through inhibitions Before we reach each other. I dip each word, in the inky darkness of my mind and hang it over the moon. And he, He glorifies the crescent Day after day
With the aroma of the sea, submitting itself to the shades of mauve with my skin so wet , and my hair in mess wiping my lens ,to explore the horizon did it unleash my forgotten memories. Dragged in and
I’m a man of persistent dreams part of my undermind trying to tell me something some archetypal architecture race-memory collective unconsciousness because I know my dreams are not unique down past all the layers conscious subconscious unconscious or translated through
Simple as a thought, even though she is complicated, like a jigsaw puzzle… Hard like diamond, yet soft like wool, deep within… She is different, even though she is, a common human like us… Her lustrous black hair, and sparkling
The pain in their eyes, still fresh, bleeding. I know their sleepless nights, trying to put together the missing pieces of this puzzle called life. A Poet who writes in the garden and then must write in the war, may
I know that I am losing you, But I will never regret choosing you Because I am in love, Of course that’s never enough. Every night when I fall asleep, I see you in my dreams, The bright smile, Infectious