Streetlights poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of streetlights poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on streetlights are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Stands a tall lamppost on the corner of my street A friend to lean upon as I skip the odd heartbeat Its streetlight flickers above me during the night Sending me a coded message for me to sight It lights
Her abuse of my naivety left a gaping wound; the cloaking (but never healing) of that wound made me hard and cold. She was sweet and sincere She dried my tears She was sympathetic And somewhat poetic She drew me
Her eyes narrate huge stories every time, I try to hear them, Measure the weight she drops on each word, Counting, the gulps after few. Her eye balls dance around, Like butterflies dancing in the ballroom, She hides violent storms
She has arisen like a full moon In his heaven, That puts him in ecstasy Approved by the blinking stars strewn in array. His heaven comforts her with enough place and pride, Full of azure deep and spacious heart-line in
The heart of a male romantic expresses his feelings born from his own pen rather then purchased in a card He is moved to comfort the one who holds his adoring gaze He will make her feet float softly on
It’s not it It’s the feeling would you help me, stop, would you help me, stop, would you help me, stop, open parenthesis every album I hear makes me want more close parenthesis, stop can you feel it too or
In my domain I am the child again lost in labyrinth of stairways unable to find my home. A swarm of bees descends gives anaphylactic shock I am dead in my arms. You carry a dead gorilla on the makeshift
Eyes as bright as northern star Smiling, trying to hide the deepest scar A smile so pure and simple As I drew nearer, could it be possible I looked closer and found myself in horror Was that me, the girl
Rene Descartes said “Cogito ergo sum” “I think therefor I am”. This is true regardless of our reality. Conscious of being is true regardless our reality, be it corporeal or digital. We may live in a computer simulation, but “Cogito
Committing crime has two sides Rich or poor is no exception Reasons may be plenty some may be for gain some may be out of pain greedy may escape punishment Genuine may suffer punishment suffering due to punishment fades away
The stem cells coaxed to become a kidney or a trachea failed to ask the Himalayas, why were not, they gathering the ice for glaciers! Some sexual jealousy? The naked darkness will nurse the roses to rest on the barrel
Dreams never stay the same, They change frequently. Your goal is not a game- As others would see. From an athlete, To social service. You don’t compete- But you never miss. Once those become an illusion, You’re finding new dreams.
Have you seen a dream crumble, I just did Not one sound it made, nor a mercy bid Silently and softly it shed its tears Finally unbounded from all its fears Some piercing pain I felt Something perishing and foul
Conceived in love’s folded wings: I sit and watch him from the next table – fair-haired and impish, he swings his sturdy little legs. “Don’t fidget, darling! You’ll fall off your chair…” The words should have come from my mouth.
Fear not, my friends, of dreaming For those who call themselves realists, will have faith, none, in you Fear not, my friends, of loving For those who call themselves heartbroken, will have faith, none, in you Fear not, my friends,
Fateful memories prick me today Taking me back to life’s old way A storm of dry and vacant tears Snatches away all my cheers My deadly life just spins around Making me sit back rolled up in a wound Cause
In succeeding years our wisdom is seen for what it is invention and tender folly as we go forward imagining mountains rising ever higher to see what we thought we knew on the trails below illuminated simplified and disproved sweet
The Imitation Sounds- Their Sounds: Like lion he roars, growls like a male tiger warning intruder or a bear on prowl for vengeance. He gibbers like an ape, chatter as a monkey, screams like a chimpanzee. Do you bark like
A useless space between the sentences, ghastly story does not end in black and white. Again the heart cries. I keep on knocking on the doors and then return to blackness. Sometimes people become insects. Cockroaches, ants and spiders, weaving
It is not on you, dear poet, but on your Nation, and its rulers, spread all over Their body, mind and soul; irreparable, Their cancerous thoughts and deeds; ‘The red salute’, they offer to all, a mean, Cheap and cruel
Beneath this yonder twinkling isle I laid down for a while; Amidst this firmamental lea I saw a pulsar shine with glee. Soon I ventured into a dream and saw the lign aloes gleam ; a foreigner to this lonesome
Words have power to light fires of passion in the soul, making unsaid words waltz in unison of the hearts. Words are breath of life, a narrow line between, the real and declared, within one’s awareness of subtle meanings. Words
Woken up at two, by a pesky little dream, I have been standing by the window, Waiting for my sleep. The neon lights burn ugly holes In the black velvet of the night, A thirsty lapwing flies around Cursing aloud
The hardest part of ending Is starting over again Troubled times buried in the past And overcoming the pain Staring at this empty room A million questions fill my mind Thinking back to happier days Rather than how love can
I guess the first real cuts were more than they needed to be the number of times I’d twirled the blade constructing stillborn balsa skeletons, stegosauri and plesiosaurs always amputating a rib or femur by accident, preferring to leave them
In this timeless ethereality where silences build converted assonances and gravitational elapses, I breath your unspoken space within my pollinated reflections… Petalled essences of your insights swing the Eternity on the edge of my second… Echoed Time graciously bleeds rainbows
hey feeble feathery flakes you keep sneaking into my space, your furtive group-attack tackling you, the skill I lack, once you made your way in chasing-chickens seem any-day a win, you are here, there and everywhere to my vanilla tiles
There’s a light in my garden, a light in the night. Giving light all around to make everything bright. I peacefully sit out there when evening is here, and wait for my gecko’s who come and play with much flair.
Lucky little seed, I pick you. To bury in dirt and chicken poo. I cant wait to watch you grow. Underneath the light bulb glow. Little sapling poking out, Standing up so strong and stout. I’m so very proud of
None our own devices in any scheme of things We all are but nothing than puppets on strings With advent designed for a set time on stage All expectedly ordained impossible to rearrange Often get manipulated and to probable comply