Regeneration poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of regeneration poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on regeneration are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
The bright red sun blisters my dreams When I wake softly like a fragile flower unfolding for water to take to grow Learn as my memories of flying high into the sky above the deep blue sea Rivers rapid flowing
Why it should happen the parting of ways? Between the will to arrive and the goal? Between the unlearning and contempt, lies a tale. Terror. Petrifying fear ………., doggedly I was defending the door. Inspite of the terrible blows I
Hail to you o gracious guest The most awaited and cherished Alighting majestically onto the earth With splendid ceremony of a real king Whose eventful advent does signal A fast retreat of the winter chill That has been rather unkind
Passing by that deserted road one autumn evening My eyes caught sight of a forlorn tree All dried up without a single green leaf It looked pathetic and a picture of grief Lost , as if in the memories of
“I AM GOD’S CREATION – A SOUL” Can anyone tell, “Who am I?” What am I doing on this Mother Earth? I wish, someone could answer this question of mine! Can anyone tell, “where did I spring from?” And for
Sinuous roots stretch scrawny limbs, Seeking security in a forbidding terrain. Tentative fingers probing for purchase, Momentarily anchor, creep and grasp again. Mindless ambition, an instinctive will, Drives a path to solar sustenance. Revitalising rays multiply cells, Promoting uninvited regeneration.
Spiritual regeneration and universal intelligence Neptune in the 9th hour invokes lucid dreams and third eye visions of intuitiveness oh Lapis Lazuli in the shadow of a frosted moon I become omniscient like the great horned owl to Samhains’ coming
Strange is the land on which he treads seeking blood for the vengeance within he stops and sniffs, yes there is hatred here someone will fall for the false hope again some eyes will always be moist some hearts will
Welcome to the noun. It was quite the adjective. It was once renowned, almost like a narrative. But those filthy verbs… They took us with conjunctions. It would be superb, if there were no expunctions. Without an interjection, you may
Let me chant prayer almighty, My ALLAH, Let us be one and united, Forever and for the Nation God is great and omnipresent, And knowing hearts of everyone, Known to us that if ye bless us, Nothing is impossible By
Atop our heads, we place a special hat, We pull it off and that’s where verse is found. We look to Sklyark’s flight if we fall flat, Then link our words to pictures that resound. The muses visit us and
Somewhere and somehow, how and where I don’t know. But from ‘twinkle twinkle little star’, to the melody’a thing of beauty is a joy forever’we grow up. The past 15 years can be compared to the life of the ‘Brook’.
The Dark nights The Dimming lights The Owls hoots The Sound of boots The Wishes await The Stares at the gate The Chilling breeze The Dangling keys… The Empty chair The Hopes in despair The Lonely dawn The Joys withdrawn
Winners take time to relish their work, knowing that scaling the mountain is what makes the view from the top so exhilarating. Valpaarai by Fountain Head As I rise And see the MIRACULOUS BEAUTY, Of the the beaming sun, Come
The movement of the water that surrounds me The slowing down of the force between us The balance of the water holding me like a mother holding its child The character of our bodies reflect its simple gestures The openness
At point highest clouds appear and glide along Locks to climb mouths to bathe in beckon a broken soul Asses astride caution in mind the journey of bumps bundles along Excited at first exhausted at last mile First source of
Words in didos float like floes – In a Pontos of egos endorsing remorse; To pinkoes playing with awes and throes- Curses of chaos, fouls, and woes! Souls hiding behind words transpose- Sallowed ones hiding behind flaws! Some say their
Walked into the sun, He. With weak flesh. A storm was raging on burning sands. In hollow of his knees gravel was hitting hard. He moved inwards in trance Visionary, homeless, life in open was blessing. A huge crowd followed
Through the arthritic wrought iron gate that squeaks from a pull or a push, up the weedy cobbled path past the grope of a sentinel bush. In one hand the past In a bulbous ballooning black bag with keys to
It is said, that suffering shows the truth. Only the sufferer discovers light of Being. Light contains seven colors. Yet I didn’t manage to catch the Rainbow. It is said, that suffering is, what is True. I know! I know!
Photograph by “Alan Mackenzie” He screamed helplessness and fear, Anger arising in a depth of raw emotion, His exasperating anxiety and despair, This cruel mental decay of Alzheimer’s. Acceptance hung in the desperate air, Petulance always only a breath away,
We live in a Society driven by Fear, Anger, and Greed. Fear of the unknown lurking among us. Fear of others’ distrust. Fear of what lies in our demise. Anger in our eyes for the person who leads us astray.
“Does being at zenith of civilization vouch for unleashing mindless violence ? Does being at highest norm of humanity vouch to be swayed by the religious demagogues? Does rebuttal of one human with another vouch for the ‘blood’ of another
We were marbles in a concave pan different sizes different trajectories congregating in clumps and caravans until the formation shattered we slid to the edge or the center almost unable to control ourselves but certainly in a hurry motivations and
for Shimah A nature poem should be about snow hushed woods late at night, a rainbow’s refracted light, counting rings on fallen trees, glades full of honey bees, autumn’s harvest, summer flowers, the sun, the earth, the moon, the stars,
In the present I look out the night window coffee steaming through the smoke A reflection of myself looking into my eyes A child, never a child, a lingering old soul with no true idea of what a soul is,
Why do I feel like this tonight? Getting confused between what’s wrong and right. Always thinking about you whether its day or night. Can’t stay alone when you are out of my sight. Remaining depressed and taking unnecessary fight. Please
Why fight to always be number one in everything When life teaches us it is the smaller things of everyday that the most we are always missing Yet so many will fight to the death to conquer the most expensive
prisoner of retribution, he was buried under a salt lake, elusive, his crotch, not far from stings of wasps, the blood spills, he would wonder how to catch the truth in black river, wrapped in imperforated causes, leaking with curses,
Innocence of those eyes Innocence of those eyes, will never disguise , their dreams will fill their blood, with joyous thoughts, and gifts that love has brought innocence of a child is a blessing, which makes him see the beauty
Annie Dickson was a ham But Annie had a stutter Carefully she chose her words Determined not to flutter Every day seemed quite the chore Frustration just to talk Girls and boys would roll their eyes Heck, some would turn