Solidarity poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of solidarity poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on solidarity are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Still talking to a ghost in oblique manner about sexuality. A centuary plant has not bloomed; wants to die. The loincloth covers the ocean floor where it shipwrecked. A fake will do. God was on dialysis. Chemistry of kiss did
We, You and I, Are individuals. As individuals, Regardless of how steadfastly We assert individuality, We’ll either blend in Or be drowned in a sea of Excessively passionate individuals; Each uniquely manufactured to personify Their respective soul. We, You and
Dream on all ye decedents of Kunta Boldly go wherever you dared to go Be happy ,sing aloud Hakunamatata Dream of the precious gems of Congo Dream on Africa ,Dream Mr .Kenyatta . Dream on all ye daughters of Africa
They say Dreams are not Real… And, that it’s an illusion we live in! Would it have been possible, to think of our Independence, Of India being free, had not… the HEROES of our HISTORY dreamed of freeing it, from
The puppet, strung up, made to move ever faster With time rises proficiency, it overtakes its master It craves the open air, it wants to test its wings The master cackles, “Fool, you know not what Fate brings” The puppet
Your name seems to be carved on the heart since ages, You definitely have captivated every bit of it in cages, It is all yours forever, Oh dear, don’t leave me ever, I write your name sometimes on the shore,
Sat outside beneath a starry sky, with a favourite glass of wine With the silver glow of moonlight, oblivious of time Your hand is held in mine, the special intimacy of touch Just sharing conversation, times like this I love
Jim 1 Divorced from the outside world as if you have never heard changes in the back of my head egg shelled in design & form some may insist on cursing the very day they were born Dionysus was intigued
Eight kisses of death and I am alive My chest is still bleeding Come brother, come, stitch my wounds. What shall we believe, rebirth or life after death? Both are study of wasteland. To speak through angels is difficult these
You, Filthy fingers that pinched my wallet Crooked skeletons in your closet Using every sliver of shade to hide your face In the blinding, piercing light of righteous day Heart smashing violently against your ribs As you scurry to seek
Wet cheeks and bruised heart, Words that tore the being apart, Betrayal and treachery part of the game, Acts that put love to shame. Broken promise and shattered dream, Lies that stole the gleam, Shutting of ears, could not stop
I watch storm clouds drag themselves over broken city skylines. Listen to their thundering hearts, beat the promise of the malign. The frigid touch of rain, falling from a million hollow eyes. I wait and wish for my demise. In
If someone is having bad time Then surely good time arrives That time you’ll feel very lucky When everything is going fine But what one should do When life is becoming a dirty game When fate is not with you
The world’s new code of conduct Misusing of office protocols to suit one’s taste Stocking stolen billions in banks and calling it your hard earned money A sweet temptation destroys people’s integrity is it’s goal Causing poverty as you milk
Sometimes in your life, Time will go astray, You can’t save those moments, For another day. Missed opportunities, Times you should have had, But we got the good times, Mixed up with the bad. Sometimes we take the wrong path,
How mesmerising it is to have you infront of me, How loving it feels when you play with my hair, There is nothing more addictive than your caring embrace, There is no other fragrance better than yours that I wear.
They can’t resist the Calligraphy, Like the Disney movies, all eyes & ears glued there, Yeah, they fathom the science behind it, But No! Listen to the hits they make, like boom! Can’t help but break dance, The comfort my!
Her presence was like being breathless; skydiving over a foreign land you’d only seen in photos but admired, longing to visit in the cool unfamiliar majesty of a new landscape. She looked at me, and before anyone else could move,
Sometime, somewhere I will break into many moons – an oblique answer to a terrestrial question of a pale river. The heat is on, because of the fatal mistakes. Violence has pregnancy. Walls stand alone without a roof hauling the
Sunny sweaty days you gave to me. Hot and humid nights you fed to me. Your dark and scary clouds frightened me. Your thunder rolls and flashing lightning startled me. With heavy rains you flooded the land. Your tornadoes blew
Two flailing oiled chotis slap me out of stupor. The Goddess arches out hinged at the pole, her saucer hands clasped below mine. A hooting call answered with crystal stare from wide apart eyes that grazes my shoulder, wounding me.
That old pair of socks, lying in the drawer, Reminds me of mom, winters and A long lost lover… Those fresh white textures Look worn out and grey And yet there’s so much they’re waiting to say… I touch them
It’s happening right in front of our eyes. We who live today are right in the middle of it. Being swept up in the wave breaking on humanities shoreline. The global brain being born all around us, exponentially expanding, most
Ethics takes a nap, in a blink, without qualms. * A jilted lover, like a broken moon, takes a jump from the hill. * In this twilight who am I, in this crowd of sinners? ———————————————– Ethics takes a nap,
Night is cloaked beneath a shroud As moon does slip behind a cloud Camouflaged, his darkened face Patrols the perimeters of the base Laid low, like snake he slowly slivers As cold night air does make him shiver And yet
Infant sees the light after staying in dark for 9 months in mothers womb Light dawns on birth and will continue through out life Light ceases after the death and has no role to play on the dead In between
I went there again the place that I never left where my intrinsic self was born with distinct air I move . Pensive thoughts are bygones replaced by crystal pondering apathy for circumstance went missing a contorted and merry soul