Remote Poems

Remote poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of remote poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on remote are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!

Disconnected

Disconnected short poem

It’s a funny feeling, being totally remote. No connection to the world outside. My world has shrunk down To the walls of my house, To the boundaries of my city. I know many people, But as far as I’m concerned,

Poems containing references to : Remote

The Pink Happiness

The Pink Happiness short poem

The little shadow walked into her lonely world, his eyes candid, covered in a helmet, he looked onto hers. Into that dark, holy night of a love unfelt that swirled, Her eyes wandered and recalled “dear love bereaved”, the echoing

Chanting

Chanting short poem

“Mum, what’s that noise?” asked Johnny Duboise as he sat on the comfy settee. “It’s your father”, she replied as the dishes she dried, “says he’s trying to set his mind free”. “By singing a song?” he asked with a

The Night Train

The Night Train short poem

It is 11.30 at night- A night train is appearing into our sight- Porters are walking up and down the station, They are keeping watch on train’s arrival with great caution- They are frantic to the passengers- who will get

Life Sans Light

Life Sans Light short poem

Life sans light They are sitting in a remote dark room to relax without switching on light. For they want a real light that brings peace and solace in their laborious humdrum life. They toil from dawn to dusk without

Elope With Me

Elope With Me short poem

I came into the city at a young age and strive for the dream which has no stage There is a pretty girl around me who is so sincere and kind that I wanna woo In this familiar city, I

I Will Glow More

I Will Glow More short poem

A river was frozen in my chest, O God – I choose a burning boat to reach you. My planet has become a broken bridge. Voiceless hymns are haunting me. Standing in a remote village of words, my poetry beside

Growing up

Growing up prose poem

This morning at the town square, little orphaned children gathered to listen to stories and lies left behind by last night’s lovers. On one of the benches by the fountain, one of the children, a little girl with a clogged

Herring Bone Sunrise

Herring Bone Sunrise short poem

Beyond the early morning mist, caressing the mountainous eastern skyline, an exquisite sunrise is being created. Pastel pink fluffy clouds streaked with gray in the formation of a massive herring. A true display of wilderness serenity. Clouds shifting in the

A Note To Mum On Mother’s Day

A Note To Mum On Mothers Day short poem

I do apologize Giving you credit on your day, Mother You’d think you fell into oblivion And to memory you come occasionally, Mother You’d think the stream of my love From my heart stops flowing, Mother You’d think my eyes

Fighters At Large

Fighters At Large short poem

A nebula rises unfazed after fission: after a fractured debate, greed crouching on the wrinkled noses of rugged bouncers. In remote history someone was burning itself out. A black eye surges forward, sings an ode to championship. Ankles swell up.

Gates Of Aleppo

Gates Of Aleppo prose poem

(1) At ‘Bab Al-nairab gate’,(1)on a pile of wet smoke, I meet a sackcloth, a muddy bear fur and two women; one holds by her amputated palm the tail of ‘Sayf Aldawla’s(2) robe, the other sings a rocky song. The

The Forgotten Casualties Of War: Igbobo-robert

The Forgotten Casualties Of War: Igbobo robert prose poem

Like a rumbling thunder let loose upon a recalcitrant world by the fury of nature, the sound of heavy gun shots could be heard ominously in the distance from this remote settlement where the inhabitants lurks away in the gloomy

Dissociation

Dissociation short poem

Feeding me heroic tales I call drunken fiction, he is still pouring zinfandel down my throat gawking at me the same way he does gazing into the mirror Inching forward with lingering fingers, he pleads. Indifferent, I acknowledge. It’s a

The Lost Trail

The Lost Trail short poem

We watched them leaving- Leaving for the western plateau. We have our kin over there. They have promised them free passage. Will the others do the same? Some of them vowed to come back. Some of them cursed us back.

Birds

Birds prose poem

(1) She does not really sleep. She stands on the thin space of night, holds trees with her fingers and takes a nap. Sleep for her is a necessary illusion. Illusion, when becomes a necessity, tears anything apart. Here she

What Has To Stay

What Has To Stay short poem

Like I want to erase the fear before I light a remote fire in the blue veins. Actually this was the crisis of self pride in manic depression seeking the anonymity of toes tracing the footpath. Becoming a paper-boat in

Ode To The Holy Ganges

Ode To The  Holy Ganges long poem

Hail to you O holy Ganges ! A river merely you never have been Darling daughter of mighty Himalaya Mother to millions of doting devotees . How you descend from the heavenly heights Like a lively , sportive girl child

A Colored Moon

A Colored Moon short poem

A Colored Moon// By: Fareed Ghanem (1) A moon is red in three moods: When the ladies of high society kiss windows and walk out without lipstick, or; When white color is called red, or; When roses bloom in your

Sand And Sparrows

Sand And Sparrows prose poem

(1) On the road from Jerusalem, while echoes of the horn are still tearing down the walls of Jericho, I recline on a table of sand. Sparrows cry joyfully to me, in a space void of wedding ceremonies, picking up

Under The Covers

Under The Covers short poem

Learning something about a cause with remote effect you will have a soul connective to the body. Near the end of the home lies the river of fire. Time to bid goodbye to blind walls and enter the arena of

My Heart’s Heart

My Hearts Heart short poem

My heart took deep seat. Relaxing in the comfort of plush cushion. Neck twisted, head tucked comfortably in the nook of the chair. A glass of water sitting on the edge of the coffee table next to the remote control. T.V Turned

On Reader’s Digest – 4

On Reader’s Digest – 4 short poem

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

Behind The Window

Behind The Window prose poem

The Window// (1) Behind the window, when clouds descend down over houses planted into mud, and seeds wake up, clock-hands go back to zero. Cottony fogs veil visions, so we might look inside, then I see a dewy dove carrying

Road- Block

Road  Block long poem

Heaps of vehicles huddled together on the road Like a swarm of flies sitting on Jaggery to taste it People inside the vehicles are drenched in profused sweat Like frozen milk pockets as they are out of the Fridge. A

From Perception To Consciousness

From Perception To Consciousness prose poem

When taking a line of action, important is to discuss, decide, understand and realize everything that is going on in the mind at the present moment in time. Most importantly over a period of time, present will become a thing

We Are A.c.e.

We Are A.c.e. long poem

We know it’s hard to believe From what your earthly eyes can see. We know it’s difficult to accept Since you are deficient in sensory depth. We know you haven’t been sufficiently prepared To come to terms with what’s really

Insanity

Insanity prose poem

(1) It is insane that while your heart jumps at evening on the strings of a harp, while your beloved lady’s hair flies with every breeze of jazz, while you wash up at morning under showers of gardens sounds, but

Go, Al!

Go, Al! long poem

Well hello there, My name is Al. It’s short for — oh who cares? Let me just get this out. They say we all have an inner voice, And if we tune out external noise, The little voice can help

The Coming

The Coming short poem

Believe when drunken butterflies fuel: a burst of iridescence over furred fields where the blue tongue of anemones leer; and fever of shadows sting. Trees adorn their pristine bloom, rapt and oozing orange sap beneath the provident music of birds,

Darkness

Darkness long poem

(1) If I were a lover, I would say: Darkness is the drops of kohl On my arid world, Raining from your black eyes. But I forgot my passion in a remote year; Blindness comes out of the pores of

Chains Of Success

Chains Of Success short poem

You can not control your life, there’s no remote to it to rewind, if you lose hope and start crying, you will definitely miss your precious time; Grieving over the lost chances, won’t make your tomorrow perfect, the tantrums that

The Salt Tree

The Salt Tree prose poem

In the road to the South, which hasn’t ended yet, from the yet not finished North, at the ball’s surface which had lost its center and produced sacred shrines fighting each other all along the road, there, that white tree

You And Me And The Devil Makes Three

You And Me And The Devil Makes Three long poem

He was unworthy of her love had no courage to ask for it the devil makes us fear the word no makes it an end instead of a redirection her beauty was the mythical type there are only so many

Just Tonight

Just Tonight short poem

Down by the river, The moon seemed to glow. Watching this beautiful scene, Time seemed to slow. The moon bounced, Off the glittering water. The crickets jounced, Through swaying grass. The only sounds were, Nightime creatures. Prior night a remote

The Bookcase

The Bookcase prose poem

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

Mere Words

Mere Words prose poem

(1) When I used to be a coal-black ink over a snowy paper, she said: “your letters are locks, your words puzzles”. When I spoke with the remains of my string, she said: “your letters are plough blades wounding the

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Purpose

Purpose prose poem

What’s the point? To life I mean. Here, we find ourselves following The crowd. Doing as those who came before. Why? Did they know something, anything, about anything? Mindless lemmings are we? Are we building something? We’re born, we live,

This Is The Road

This Is The Road short poem

This is the road that leads to my father’s home It is old and dusty with bullock-carts creaking, Carrying the heavy weight of the freshly cut sugar-cane To the mills nearby for our sugar laden tables, Piled in our court-yards

Love Sonnet 127

Love Sonnet 127 sonnet poems

As light raindrops pat mildly on my hair, Reminding of the April drizzles felt; A heavier pour could drench in disrepair, Romantic strolls to fizzle or to melt; We watched torrents pelt our favorite tree, To gush off the boughs,