Speck poems bring the best collection of short and long speck poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great speck rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these speck poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on speck are here for you.
…are as varied as they are inconsequential. All struck on a speck of a place, in a speck of time. Our very evolution built on infinitesemly small terrain. All that we think, all of the great contributions like so many
Atlantic City, not a place but the fragment Of a memory that lights up bright and garish In the starless night when day is done When ragged dreams arise from murky beds Beneath the waves washing up like seaweed On
A silent whisper, I continue to be. A shadow missed, on the deserted street. A speck of dust, that nobody sees. In ancient trunks, and cobwebbed locks. I lie inside, a forgotten sigh. Through dirty nights, and foreseen dawns. I’m
I can feel the warm sunshine bathing me in light Comfortable, joyful, pure I see bright green grass, soft on my feet Lush and cool Comforting I am happy here I smile here I sit in the tree Never really
‘Twas on the eve of St Agnes’ Day, When young virgin’s minds fly astray; Stacey lay her body bare To January’s freezing air. She cast her liquid ebon eyes, Up to the boundless starry skies, Hoping to find in that
Dwelling above Lake Louise is a young Alpha mountain goat who got run out of his pack for trying to take control away from the senior Alpha mountain goat. Young Alpha mountain goat is a feisty and shaggy beast. Fearless!
End of gold, and the clear sky turns black from blue, begins to cry; A pall of gloom as far my sight, the brightest day, darker than night. I pass my gaze over the awashed way, brilliant colours all, all
Let’s go somewhere far, Somewhere where I’d hold you tight. Hand in hand. Wherever you’d like. Whether train or plane. An automobile or an boat. Either way will be home in justification. Journeying through each other’s eyes, a different aspect
…like no other. Tiny blue speck in a void unfathomably large. Self aware beings truly not aware of much. Self impressed with no reason to be. Obsessed with sex and violence driving forces of existence. Compression point coming. Evolution of
A speck of blue in the limitless black. The infinite of existence. All we know so finite. Like a fish in an aquarium whose universe consists of the aquarium and what little is observable in the immediate surrounding. The fish
We delude ourselves, always have, still do. Center of everything, gods’ favorite, we knew. How immature! We follow rituals begun thousands of years ago. Started by those who knew next to nothing of where they lived, their place in a
With scrunched and bushy furrowed brow I often ponder the precise circumstances that any thing 2 be born this way as a poker face Tracing back lineage of self or arbitrary individual unpredictable as the Dow Reckoning a series of
I, the most perfect syllable in the world. It encapsulates me and all that is mine And all that I perceive or have perceived, All that I encountered or experienced, the Totality of my existence and its meaning To me
Her words cut into him like a sword tearing deep into his flesh he uttered not a word She ruined his fascination erasing what was attained before it has gone; that simple infatuation A complaining spirit crept in, and constantly
In a dream that is not mine Muse of Poesy, upon your cue, I follow after a gossamer line Till I versify as one with you! In your Mobius-looped universe Space regresses as time in reverse; We versify lost dreams
I set out on a voyage, to unfold, unearth the myriad layers of the secrets that creation hides behind each speck, each face. My heart went into raptures at the prodigious loveliness of what I saw! Pretty, smiling faces, eyes
With my scrunched and bushy furrowed brow I often ponder the precise circumstances any thing to be born Tracing back lineage of self or arbitrary individual unpredictable as the Dow Reckoning a series of events sustained life similar to sowing
I’m sorry, but, ghosts are not scary. They live inside me. They live inside you. And without realizing, they consume us whole Of course, they are here to destroy But the destruction..? It’s so silent And silence, so to say,
Nothing makes or breaks now. I will not know you on the lake. The clouds and shoreline shudder. There was no speck of endurance. The wind falls with agonizing thud. The dusk was hoisting the white waves. Time to make
Another evening with hues of red merging into blue, blue morphing into grey, Grey turning black marred with tiny specks of silver I sit and watch this metamorphosis my eyes lusting for a streak of silver; a falling star –
Sanmati, my angel, has decorated jawline. Aside puts cold anger and does repine Negative things in her life, but always supine Merry things about the wide world divine. Against me or her things she despise saline. Tough tenderness she got
Under the tree of learning of another life, the primitive father arrives. Casts a spell of wisdom, between sorrow and death with a speck of tears in circle of beings. But a rain-soaked serpentine path leads to a ravine. A
How will it change when we know? How will civilization be rearranged? All that we known comes from one place and time, one little speck in space. Great religions over eons have arisen telling all how things must certainly be.
Our Universe is unimaginably large. Tendrils of galaxies spreading out in every direction as far as the eye can see. Hundreds of millions in every direction. Some estimates suggest there could be 500 billion galaxies in our universe. Each galaxy
Illusion! The lost wanderer Where does the path lead? An elegy, Lamentation of the heart A bleeding soul An effete relationship, Creeping desires Alas! Astonished lie all In search of “Sculptor” Lost in the wilderness Self despiciency Slight, a revulsion
When distant chimes announce the midnight hour, And full the milky moon hangs in the sky; I hope to meet again your dan’rous power, And pray this abstract love at last can die. Each nearing step, each heavy, panting breath,
Sometimes, I just want to fly away and sit by a coast dotted with tiny creeks and gaze at the pebbles sleeping peacefully at the bottom of the stream while drenching my feet in water as pure as an infant.
The lines of time stretched pulled torn ripped apart. As the time passes, it is as the distance, grand yet minuscule, an odd yet frightful reminder. And as it grows, the pain loses precision, the sharpness fading, like morning fog.
The war is not enough, The death is not enough Now someone maintain a silence Because they want some more death, And many of them want to live, But don’t forget, they want death, So many deaths! Is it mine?
What it means to be high on poems? I discovered it or it discovered me, interacting with hearts of every nation and with heart comes love and hope abundant, miraculous people whose words have fragrance, can feel the spirit of