Surfing poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of surfing poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on surfing are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
*Whoosh* Thoughts embedded into my psyche unravel, As I steadily make my way out past the unabating white water. The pure, crisp, salty air fills my nose, lungs, and heart. *Whoosh* I cast an earnest gaze onto the horizon, Awaiting
Words are explosions of mind, Emotions of a heart, Expressions of the soul, Striking like a thunderbolt. Words are waves, The tides of emotions, That create ripples in the soul, While surfing over them. Words expand beyond consciousness, To realm
The advent of the new Century, Brought rapid strides in Technology. Obsolete, became MS DOS, Replaced now, by Windows. Standalones got wired, through LANS, On-line, real-time, brought WAN. Close on heels, came E-mail, To see information Sail. Mere surfing of
Why is everyone so alone at night? The light that was everywhere just minutes before, Condenses into small balls of fire at the corner of the road. Beggars stop and cars leave, Crime happens and nobody screams. Boisterous and over-working
On birth Infant enters the world with its heart beat yet to take off On a gentle tapping infant starts crying signalling the start of the heart beat Heart continue its beating non stop Every beat of heart adds to
Sailing through the river, A long line of boats I passed, With gloomy sulky faces aboard; None to give a smile. Fishes jumped up in their faces, No one bothers; Birds flew in numbers, No one looks up. Where they
It was a killing line. Walking on razor wire, when toes would not leave the sky and heels will not touch the ground. Myths and legends were becoming a witchcraft. Are you ready to eschew the classical script and write
Everyone waits for good days to arrive Nobody knows where are those days Hope is only the melody of life Behind the horizon of sky Expectation is enriched in every heart Sufferings are overcome with distance of happiness Nobody knows
Remember We have walked to the end. An hour, at our place by the river. Before our minds erase, let’s remember the grass we flattened. The jumping waterboatman, tickling fish, restless cicadas. Let’s relive our life, our stories, dares, ambitions,
School is considered as the second home to which many children for their future come, taking the first step of their life to become a hero in the strife A place which teaches us to dream, A place which reflects
A mighty July evening in my town…. Pouring rain, halogen lights and the ‘neon’, Yellow cabs bark outside my window, I stare…. Across the confused street and beyond – struggling umbrellas moving around, water puddles, paper boats, funny children and
An act of wilfulness, and deliberate sustenance, towards the immaculate. Searching for the known the one that’s ‘unknown’ to the senses – too naive. Pushing towards that unsubstantial substance, does it truly exist? Focused solely on the gain, not minding
I feel you running inside muscles along sinews mixed into joints moving with me along bones and marrow rippling all along my surfaces and in my flesh and life hovering strands of you intertwined in my energy As I sit
A songbird sings a melancholy song Deep within a forest, dense. No one could hear it, No one around and hence, The songbird he wondered, What he was doing wrong, Should he sing it louder? Should he change the song?
In a manic trance May seem insane at first glance But in truth I broke the bonds I am no longer society’s pawn My purpose here is clear Emancipation from the fear Sever these shackles that bind The ones transgression
Would not wear the seasoned face. Eye for eye blasting the truth. The path becomes the tunnel. Unending, in pain of speech at the expense of ethics. Under the fingernails they start interbreeding the ideas, crimnalizing the upright past. A
We wake to the rumbling thunder of blood, Pumping hearts, twisted hearts, this shadow and I Squeeze into the thick silences of trees. Now the dark lights of Christmastide afflict us Twilight memories drift, flux and flicker In this breeze
Look how the sky changes rapidly though as in fazes stopping still the clouds do hoover like above the trees to look we turn our faces dim though the reality seems recollecting our midnight dreams Dark and rampant with the
The guard gave the signal there was a flutter of good byes the train started its journey of life racing on the railroads of dynamism, halting at stations… The station master managed the station of life well and the train
Looking up, looking down. I can feel my heart beat fast. I can sense the betrayal by my conscious, my feelings surrendering to him. there is no escape point here, but only the extraction point. I tried to hide behind
When hunting for quotes on Google Look instead for tattoos They’re stronger When looking for women Always be handsome Or lonely When filing for divorce Use your dominant hand When signaling an explosion Start a fire When signaling a fire
Death will not wait. Locked in bruises, I want eternity. Stinking pubes, micro to zero-gravity. Kernel rises like a star. Touch was not real How far you will go? Earth was collapsing. My father was right, Don’t climb to the
In a school of murder a hub of terror survives. An acid attack on face captures the contradictions of first nervous countdown. Step aside my truth, my tears are under siege. The schizophrenic will draw a landscape of falling earth.
Grim, forbidding a streetfull of patients First we must distract them – that is the role Of the dance – our worn shoes and shopping carts Are ideal for the purpose, pure percussion Rolling rhythm we dance on a river
You know the hardest things in life. Is to be supportive to a person who has serious problems and will not admit in having them. Life is like a streaming water flowing and still but deeper than and angry waves.
Nostalgia and memories dreams and reveries The undying hopes overflowing joy from the eyes Silent hug or a kiss of a child a stroll in the wild Tying tiny bud to a daughter’s braid soothing your son that scars and
The allure of ‘what ifs’, ungratefully moves, outside her niches, to break or make a dreamer’s riches; Her sweet fragrance to clog the air, O mistress blind, lovely and fair. Walking his truth, his ground unmoved, so the clouds of
Have written a million words still there is want for more, have wandered a thousand miles still no destiny in sight. Each day pegs a new hope some of it denial, some of it pure hope, struggle to keep my
All we ever see are Silhouettes, They stand, about to leap, They take deep breaths. Dust scatters, as they are hesitant. I want to leap,but I’m a pessimist. For none see the impending regret. All we ever see are Silhouettes,
The mysterious rival: suffering of resignation. I am reading myself for the surrealism of life, juxtaposition of love and hate. Another blast went off. White rose and black rose in the same garland; ruins of truth were older than lies.