Random poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of random poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on random are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Something lies dead here. Something, that until yesterday Was the source of all Beauty, Whose warmth dimmed Every shadow of loss And sedated pain. What it was, I cannot say- Perhaps it was love, Or an idea or a belief
In pinnate physicals, the thing, moves like a stark terror savagely. A primal fear takes over, because dead don’t speak. The bullet had passed through chest. Mutiny of dumb dandelions, lipless voices in the sea of madness. Search for a
I am a freak sitting by a creek, listening to the meek plan a revolt. We are weak, we will sink, and we will drink what we are told. Peel back illusion, reel in confusion, do not accept manipulated intrusion.
We met, a random act of coincidence We talked, I figured we had some sort of relevance Never in my time has someone lent me an ear so much, trust me I commend your patience Small talks, random brawls, A
A unique, irreverent intruder: in my dying dreams, of a domain beyond the gifts. The corridor was full of specters in boiling air. The DNA will not cover the naked strands of desires. Put out to sea, my boat in
Duis went outside and changed. And then. Who can still sit funny. However, he wishes to the hotel, the laugh of the gate of life, words of condolence, novels. I do not have football. There is no rent-a-car like a
If emotions were sounds, And feelings could be heard, What would be the loudest? And would some be unheard? Huff-puff, rattle, grunts and slurs! Would we just hear random noises? Whistles, whispers, shouts and roars! Or beautifully harmonizing inner voices?
The smoke rising from the depths of the night, Is filled with your memories still bright. The unknown souls that roam the solitary streets, My dreams are a part of their unending meets. That which lies buried under the concrete,
Sitting in a cushioned chair in his living room, absurdly comfortable, while he reads Georg Trakl’s late poems, the old man, himself a poet, drifts into a shallow sleep. He is alone in that place of Being, where desire and
I’m watching us in my mind’s eye bound together like thunder and lightning to get away from the world and into secret places We’re gushing alive flaming flickering love bursting born leaving nothing to chance until we fade out. Then…
This is a post dedicated to the crazy people who were and who are out there. Life shows new things every day, Some are sad, Some happy. Some are interesting, Some dull. Some make us cry, Some make us laugh.
The black slate, The white chalk, The lustre of a steel tiffin box. The drenched eye that read its first romantic novel, The inexpressible pain of your first heartbreak, The solace in a best friend’s hug, The fancy collection of
Time provides what the heartbeat hides; measurement and release for its subjects. Time provides us with existence, a temporary installation of measured quantities encapsulated by one quantum. Time will provide insistence of a contract between living things, a state of
A fear stalks me on the road. Sun was very aloof and cold. Cannot stop the decline, give me prayers of your lips. You talk of dark children dying when I was losing consciousness. Will not question the ink of
I’ve become aware I can time-travel, particle-physics has long posited this, Stephen Hawking admits it’s possible, even likely. It starts out this way, drowsing on my front room sofa TV tuned down, & in just a moment an hour and
Breaking the path by random steps, you move, and thoughts make a ritual dance. In a wingless flight, a cosmic gloom envelops you. You try to stop the dark tremors, Yet you don’t feel safe in a crowd. Life has
He was asking for, at least, a passive euthanasia. Rage or hostility was giving pain to phantom limbs. Race puts forth, a trembling version of ethnic choice. A piped dream which never took off. On middle of the road a
Walking down Fifteenth Avenue trying to ease the cramped claws of plantar fasciitis out of my foot sun is juice-orange above the horizon keeping a constant shade creeping up the sky there is shredded paper in the gutters firecracker red
All defenses crumbled, all fears banished All reasons negated, all arguments destroyed Looking into your big passionate eyes Not random chance, but providence Crossing our ways time and again Leading me to your big passionate eyes Yield just once to
So my absentism will prevail over presence; I will talk to you in space between the moments of autumn red when nothing else was moving. In classical pursuit, I straignten the equation and we understand the complexities of life, and
Life, at times, is full of irony, People talk roses but their deeds reap weeds.. Oh yeah! On one hand they pretend to be mascot of peace, On the other hand they don’t hesitate to suffocate anyone else’s speech. On
With full zoom to start day afresh I occupied my revolving chair in front of the computer screen and switched on the Internet to begin yet another day of oozing out random thoughts that have accumulated in my mind over
With scrunched and bushy furrowed brow I often ponder the precise circumstances that any thing 2 be born this way as a poker face Tracing back lineage of self or arbitrary individual unpredictable as the Dow Reckoning a series of
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
There is a sense of forever that’s hidden in your eyes. A sense that no matter how much time will pass. A promise that no matter how random the thought. That somehow, you will always be there. That same funny
Somebody lights a match in the theater the sulfurous odor falls in the gap between the curtain’s opening and the film begins I look around for Satan prepared to at least discus a bargain decide maybe it’s just a curmudgeon
About the book: These poems happened to me at random, insignificant moments. They are still damp, from loss. They manifest wild ways to look at ordinary things. I am picking up pieces of life And handing them over to you.
Quintessence of beauty, you rule every heart, Queen of my dream you are, my loving partner, Your quixotic gestures create stunning energy, When clouds are thundering to strike our love. Redolent air surrounds you ecstatically, That inebriate the soft heart
These are just random snippets that I will just post together. Title: Monster minded and egos Like an enflatted ego is my thought that im a monster. As with Ego you are never as big or bad as you think,
Tonight the nectar will be spread to tame a random tormentor. Black and white, I never saw my father weeping. Lonely he was. I am my own creation today weather beaten. Confession to – confession, unread. When the- storm was
A rock becomes a philosopher. Refuses to move looking at the stars. Rogue shirts were walking on the clouds of unknowing. I wanted to remove all the clocks. Who was stealing the water? Secret of life? Impiety had undone the