Reader poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of reader poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on reader are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Are you educated? Have you an injured heart? Have you a purified brain? Do you believe in truth? Are you alone? Do you seek problematic truth, solvable truth, real magic? Are you a secular person? Do you believe in democracy?
Beautifully romantic, Musically inclined, You are so poetic, Totally undefined. Your thoughts are so deep, Words you use are very unique, Your rhyming of words are like music to keep, A composition that gains a positive critique. The words you
A word amidst verses, Coming to life briefly When the reader leases His mind and time solely. That moment of glory, Is transient like you; An unknown for many Very common for few. Alone it’s no meaning, A tale not
Dear readers, Reader’s Digests denote That readers read and clearly emote Their feelings out and try to devote Their money and time for this rowboat. The mind that reads it will surely vote Their success that is sure to roam
Pinhead’s lounging in the armchair. Dreams waiting by the stair Pennywise is peeping through the curtains looking for children to scare Marvin is arguing with the kitchen door while Arthur Dent makes a cup of tea. Death has been hogging
I wonder what’s it to be like a poet For I am called one… Is it to connect reality with Tough words that prompts reader Look up the dictionary? A one which has a rhyme scheme? A one which is
FITS AND STARTS For a cold winter’s day When you’re, maybe, all sad and forlorn, Here’s a tale, Which, to many, may not be known. It may not be a mystery, it may not evoke fear, But it shall make
Writing may be a passion for me Reading the same may not interest him I do hope he appreciates my write ups But what if he doesn’t even look at my write ? Write ups satisfying self is like eating
Darkness and quietness all around me Except for your constant tick Doesn’t that painfully prick! So trick the play and take the pause I’ll applause and I swear not to be cross. You always march, night and day Where is
I’m meditating in a Boise coffee shop because I’m not writing well my thoughts are a smeary slide full of animalcules contained, self-important images that could fit into a list-poem full of suggestions that dares the reader to link meanings
The day I started writing poetry I stopped reading books As after that I started reading Many other things Like a person, birds and animals Sometimes I read trees, Sometimes a lake, Sometimes the whole nature My games have also
Chew Lawrence would disclaim that his first collection is a body of metaphysical poetry, yet his poems are metaphysical in that they pose questions about the fundamental nature of reality and posits the poet’s tentative answers concerning it. Unlike the
It is a foregone conclusion that the writer uses all five senses to create their work. However, I have found ( at least in my experience) that each sense exercised provides it’s own individual inspiration. Not to be over analytical
They say poetry doesn’t pay , A hobby for slacker’s bay , Frost projected it as condition , Far from being called ‘ real profession’ . Advised to bring out the writer , Write pages, words , Ensure some monetary
About the book My Life and My Songs, which contains 75 English poems in very simple and lucid language, is published after my previous book ‘My Life and poetry’ – that had been admired by poetry lovers. This book intends
HighOnPoems launches Popular Poems Section. Read Popular Poems with highest reader ratings that are chosen by poetry lovers. All poems that have made it to this section are picked out for their interesting writing style, versatile themes and the connect
And there I was crawling out of the wee hole down the earth, tired by the faith darkness and the humble warmth of the mother earth . It is sultry rather very torrid out here , the frozen blood of
Comprehensive to common minds yet impressive. Creative writing demands appreciating. His composition is his recognition. Unknown to this world his designation. Nor noted he’s deserted. Exiled deep in oceans of literature, Get him a defibrillator. Too less like him left,
Well if you think I’m cute and charming TELL ME… Don’t be shy, look me in the eyes and just TELL ME… Don’t be afraid to say what’s on your mind, you Just might be surprised, if you think I
If I were a Book, On the shelf, I would be overjoyed to meet new people everyday. Some would flip through, Some would read through. The fact that I would enter a reader’s mind, brings thrills. The thought that one
A step into the real world Putting her first foot forward she hesitates, Though exploring the realms of the unknown excite her, Enthuse her to find her own niche; find for her a new domain, Nostalgia holds her back. Faraway
We are encrypted likenesses of reality born out of trust between blankness and fingertips when knowledge leads and potential follows folding and rolling and bending. Intricate patterns, cumbersome schemes are woven into our souls. Tension within us aches for release.
Sailboats in blue ocean waves Swaying through stormy breeze Dove sailing in that clear blue sky Like a white silver jet. Behind that white misty cloud Was a hidden tiny wall Covered with dark icy cubes Is a sad, loner
it happens now and then a mother begs for her child and bleeds inside down there in the abyss in dirt and smoke you say it is ugly and turn your eyes to the Indian rollers in flight showing the
Each one of us has a story And one that should be shared Not one that’s strict and rigid Nor overly prepared But one that comes straight from the heart The journey you’ve been taking Of things you’ve done, the
Truly, this life is not worth living, the joy of death is privacy in the casket. What can mortal life render to the living other than; short-lived joy and protracted tumults in it’s basket of despair. What can out-live a
A bowl of butter, dough, eggs and sugar come together, Mix till the consistency is right, you’ll figure. Next, molten chocolate you will take, Add to the bowl, not a drop you must forsake! The contents of the bowl you
A small child, in this harsh ruthless world Attempted to flee, fought to survive, dreamed to live. Ignoring all pains, cleansing all injuries Shedding off all weaknesses, it rises up yet again Faces the heartless pretensions everyday Cries within itself,
He exists beyond my senses my body is drawn to corners sometimes spaces blocked by load-bearing walls yet most often to windows at early morning hours when the building opposite is barely illuminated forbidding as a cliff face or a
For long, we lived in our hearts ignoring the world. but now, the knocks have got louder and our hearts have grown heavier. you go your way, my love, I will find mine. for long, we lay under trees, holding
The valley holds on, to murder of moon, behind the trees. It is dark and clouds are meditating. You think of a perfect horror and a poisoned arrow flies straight into heart of a blissful sun. It is red, splattered
The seedless dandelion tuft arrives on nonexistent breeze settling softly upon fluffy feline tail observed by the one male kitten in the family of four who quickly pounces upon his prey immediately swatted sideways he dives for obscure safety among
Whatever happened to Solomon Grundy? Where is he now to be found? He’s in an old box in a old church yard Six or so feet underground. When Solomon Grundy was born on a Monday They didn’t think of it
Everyday I feel and wish, But it never goes away… This eccentric loneliness of mine, Looks like is here to stay… Words can’t describe this feeling, As it grows stronger, With each passing day… But things will get better, Give
Tell me about your pain, I said Tell me about your worries, I said I will hold your hands, I said I will be your strength, I said And he sobbed and he cried And lamented all night long He
Do you have a conscience? Do you have some care? Do you keep some secrets, or one you cannot bare? Do you know the answer? Do you know the why? Do you think you need a simple, solid, alibi? Do
Eyes are better than heart. Heart cannot scan, But eyes can see good and wrong. Heart can be broken. But eyes provide tears, That makes you regret to love. I was told not to fall in love. The deeper it
The storm has settled, the rush is dead. After everything that could have been, Flows pain, bloodred. Emptiness rises, The tree shakes no more, whirling tears, beaten down without a sore. The foundation burns, as the heart laid bare. What
As we board the ship of our hearts, as we navigate through the sea of love, we will discover very many things. things that often contradict themselves. there will be towering waves that upturn our ship. there will be gentle
I, Laetitia – I decree I happen! In the soul’s sublimate and subliminal state, Whom the twists of fate misshapen, I unwind! Come! Seek me! Visit! I grant visas and vistas with no use-by date! Soul-twisted ones! Stay or transit
I feel so badly it ended so quick before you discovered what makes me tick so here are some things you won’t know about me I love to sing albeit off-key I dance very well, I won’t step on your
