Sober poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of sober poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on sober are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Dragging the floor, Like a mangled doll. Facing a decrepit wall, Rip it off like paper. The blackness of void, Like a pool of ice water. Out a silver hand outstretches, Rippling the wall. You’re pulled inside, soaked by the
This girl have been cooking food for her family, she used to have a promise for eternity, that she would be with only one person, her parents would have chosen that man in person, but one fine day her innocence
The ever youthful never sober, always cheerful and smiling, a man of solid virtues and discipline bid adieu to this world of umpteen wonder after scoring a memorable century to the disappointment of thousands of his admirers Nelamangala Venkataraman Sharma
It was a normal day As they usually always say With fights alight, And deaths made right With masses arguing And the hunger growing. Ahh what a sight! A perfectly normal sight! I could just not wait Any longer in
The moon grasped my heart tonight! Like the glow of a burning lamp It gleams in a mantle of delight Beneath the clouds of misty damp Like a wandering eye that glances To every nook and corner streets A silent
Like every morning, he has just returned from his office and is right in-front of one of his roommate and so called friend’s lappy’; Going through all previous messages sent by her on Facebook. No doubt, his life has been
Sumptuousness of the cafe, Sitting at the corner… Softly Decorated with glasses comforts of Air-Conditioner.. Silent faces unknown held down on phone-screen… Headphones and Ringtones like sounds of guillotine Inside the head-Rage and fire against the politics-bullshit of generation of
Dreadful nights are long over, Nature has turned a lot sober, After the devastating flood, That claimed a lot of blood.. With us helping each other, No one now has to bother, About catastrophes in future, As we will again
This kitsch makes you hollow, kleptomaniac. You become blind in green ready to make a dumb leap from tall cliff. Contempt for climactic throats. The man walks on water to meet death in icebox. Pink torch like royal command signals,
lamplight reflection sits in the trees gives eyes to the leaves they watch without blinking there is beauty everywhere an old couple reworking their wills to include their new granddaughter a lay preacher sober since last Sunday enthralled with the
He awakens To a wicked world Of His own design Where the Damned Live amongst The Divine Their perfect little lives An illusion Fueled by vanity As He searches The darkness for light And His sanity Rythm of the heart
Knock knock knock, I opened the door Some girl named Crystal was on my front porch. I asked what she wanted, she said “may I come in? I have a surprise for you,” then flaunted her little white bag. “You
The sea claims, here you are at my door. Leave behind the bustling streets. Walk up to me, pardon my storminess. Bury your feet in my sand and close your eyes. I shall salve you of endless perplexity and unrest.
One crisp scaffold. Was it possible that it became generous? For the street which turns the mutation into xenograft. I pretend to be which I am not for fear of dying daily or sleep no more in the lineage of
Many times it may be a pleasure to meet your dear ones But some times it may be irritating too Mental make up determines our attitudes We may be rude when disturbed We may be pleasant when happy We may
Count your blessings you’re still here it’s 2018 another wonderous year. 2017 has passed us by ain’t it truly funny how time can really fly. Was 2017 a scream or just routine? Did it make you hoot and holler, kept
A steady mind does not exhibit emotions A disturbed mind often leads to irritation A happy mind feels Life as a Gods given gift to enjoy A sorrow mind feels no charm in leading the life An angry mind sees
Let’s paint these walls red, With the blood of our dead. Of the lost and wounded, the sad and depressed. Let’s paint that chair green, With the leaves of the trees. The trees cut down, every day, week, month, year.
She has opened her eyes, to feel the beautiful smile in her mind! Recollecting that he had promised… She stepped out into the world, to feel the dew filled grass Filling her with untold Love and solace… Flowers had bloomed,
Pass out your punishment I care not for your ideals nor am I capable to accept Pass out your punishment Your “logic” offends and I will not entertain Pass out your punishment I fear you not, you are obsolete in
Will the shouts work on blood seeds in climate of conflicts? Winter was shrinking. Give me a hand. I am going to invite clouds softly. Let the drumming start. War has broken out on many fronts for a god, for
Lips tremble like sentinels when legs burn like candles whole night, in the pocket a grenade explodes; a girl gets raped in broad day light to receive a compensation under a leaky roof of frozen hunger: the emptiness in bed
At dusk, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves on the trees in my front yard. Birds chirp as they settle in for the night. Clouds drift slowly across the sky. And a star twinkles from the galaxy. The Moon is
NEGATIVE STREAKS Self glorification is trying to impress one self Putting down others is to cover ones short comings praising an incompetent is to seek favour Covering up ones own mistake is the step in wrong direction Over looking the
Humankind has been grasping for knowledge from the beginning, fear of the unknown was always forbidding. Why does the wind blow? Why does the sky crack open with light sound and fury? Why do the oceans roil with such anger?
From the dizzy heights of my blind, blind love, From the darkest abyss of my sins, From the broken shards of your words that hurt, From the silence throbbing madly in my ears, From the rotten skin that I’ve been
(1) What echo says in his revert? It says, I have no dwelling; not at furrowed paths or nooks or crooks, not at mountain peaks or in shadow vales, not at bottoms of pets, not in mouse-holes, or in cloaks
Cu-sith roam and howl to the moon Venting their anger in audible form Across the woods their voices roam Sending chills to those in their home. Spoken of as legends and myth The Cu-sith chase and hunt Magic in their
Your absence was left beside me for the white salt, unsolicited, unbroken wants. Asking to return the dried roses pressed between the pages of talking book. Counting only the dying fireworks the hissing sparks, left in the unwrapped bones and
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
Please make me the one Your lucky one and not anyone’s Thy lifetime best friend and not just a friend Your forever companion in every situation Thy forever cheerleader because you’re my champion. I want to be the one Who