Relics poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of relics poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on relics are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
She shakes it, spreading the exuberance, gushing out of its folds ’n Crevices of long-ago, like a perennial stream of jubilant euphoria- Converting matter into emotions, from the tangible to the intangible, Embodying an idyllic confluence around, fervently fluttering to
Your charms, your charms, are figments dreams are made, I wish not to be gravely soaked therewith, Or else, I will be fool in love’s charade, That anyone would rightly guess forthwith; Is it folly to wait by Heaven’s door?
It was a grizzly sky indeed So dull and drab The Kind, that reminds you of a Middle aged mistress, deeply in despair Puffing up a ballooned pout. Who is casting ash over Our azureous canopy? From where does this
Drowning her children back in her womb, a big tear rolls down the cheek of earth. She was sitting on broken bones to watch the terror, ear for ear to listen, eye for eye to see. Hope was becoming ephemeral.
When terror strikes, fear inside you makes a hissing sound, breaks the vessel. Pain spurts out. Your limbs swell like sapphires in a naked suffering. You were searching the face of your dead brother on burning ghat. And then on,
Souls leave no shadows And no more shades either For, they remain in those Moth eaten sepias as relics of Those we have loved once And killed many times over Souls leave holes only Wholesome holes; say some in mock
This day of sixty fruitful weeks shadow pristine relics of bundled keepsakes adorned in obsolete gazettes of passing snow storms, puppy training and next door’s junk mail. Transition logs re-call six states, five military orders, four duty stations, six rusted
Confused and wary like a spermwhale, you are nosediving; – through the shadows of terrible pain ejecting ambergris. Who was getting the bribery to fix the belly button? This was not revolution. It was evolution- of a stinking city. The
If dreams are strung from end to end like string, My dreams of you could wrap around the world, And all the ways your name, my mind did bring, Are way much more than how my thoughts unfurled; Though mornings
Do not talk of unhealing wounds, talk of the weapons. Talk of the hands which used the arms and talk of the brain which pressed the trigger. Violence was primitive but the cruel eyes had a new glint, At night
Weaving fine fibres of unripe beliefs, from a fire base, a blue bird scrambles, shading the stone valley. There was no thrift for the cadavers. The burnt relics were eating away the greens of tearful eyes. Sun was slugging again.
She was so naïve roving the boat across the stream The flow so smooth and even – life looked a dream Seldom failed to thank, keeping it tidy, her lovely boat So steady and strong, like soul mate they were
Child Marriage: Plights Before Me. Innocence in me, society betrayed, joy in me- society destroyed, wonderful future ahead of me society truncated. Child Marriage: Plights Before Me. Innocence in me, society betrayed, joy in me- society destroyed, wonderful future ahead
Find happiness in nature, in the beauty of mountains and scenic stature, in the serenity of the sea, in the rustle of the tree! Find happiness in friendship, in the fun of doing silly things, in crazy partnership. Find happiness
In my heart and my head there is an inky blackness that roars with a deafening silence As I stand so still in the tunnel of darkness, so still, like a boat between the swells of a tumultuous mountain I
It has been many long years Since you’ve been gone, And I’ve cried painful tears Before every break of dawn. I’ve lost all my cheers And gained only fears. From this feeling arrears. I walked alongside pioneers; Drowned my sorrow
Pendulum strikes as usual One…..Two….Three….. Life span rotates on this formula. Time moves fast- Silent shadow starts to shrink In the form of night. Darkness give way to light Again and again the wheel rotates Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter- Changes
Blasting my senses with lasting noise, The heat of the moment through pain and joy, A testament of strength to hold on tight, Another day gone and another left to fight. Pass me your glances of scorn or praise, Make
The dark circles may have been privy to your succumbence before an inorderly resonance.. you might have longed for his nights to brush your eye lids darker.. every morning was a story sketched in your eyes, every day were you
In a temple without god, They performed a cryptcastration on a colossus, targeting a total annihilation, and liquidation of a beautiful saga. And then, layer by layer unspeakable pain was released. Nobody looked at my red eyes. Half dead, half
Though barely clad, He was fully attired With chocolates of mud, Which even pasted A leg-burrow Of a small Walking scarecrow, What a sorrow! A sore -eyed And malnourished child That developed A leg bandy ’cause buckling from A Have
The flesh, bones and dna yet shall be dust and vanish Like the tears in the rain. The young or mature, Your joy, your sorrow The death will not wait Succumbing to anaerobes That will feast on thee Yet you
Who is this being called God? That many lives are continually lost in his name Wars, riots, quarrels, discriminations all for his sake Is that what he created man for? Of course not I believe. Not to hate, fight and
Like the Rhythmic sound merging with the flowing River Like the flowing River merging with the Sea Like the Sea merging with the Horizon My heart desires for her None but she knows whether her heart will ever mingle with
Somewhere the truth lies still and frozen why can’t we measure ourselves? Measure the unseen depth? Not for gain, not for bliss. For inner tranquility, moving into the time where living and dead meet. The silhouette of circling hawk was
You are … My constant thought A silent tear Who I wish was near I fear Only your going away my dear you listen without me speaking Thoughts are shared no matter where we are Feelings are deep Words are
Carlton the caterpillar loved to explore the branches of the trees, way up high, his days full of joy but like many a boy he dreamed of the clouds in the sky. But unlike his friends, his dreams knew no
Poetry is not an intelligent Arrangement of words or rhymes But an articulation of heart An articulation of emotion An articulation of the subtle feelings That can never be expressed by a prose Poetry is associated with more heart Than
Ephemeral landscapes Anything for an ethereal escape. Through trodden lands come fatuous perceptions. As though materials fade behind the shadowy hem of night, Hasty winds succumb through numerous violations. Empty space here, concrete expressions of plight Downward facing valleys may