Systems poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of systems poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on systems are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Great Maker beyond human knowledge. Our time is short. Our knowledge finite. Reality infinite. We struggle to understand. We create structure to make it so. We build and grow the best we can. It’s a struggle every day you know.
One could tell that she had ascended from a peaceful and noble family of visionaries This rare beauty was never bounded by mirrors of painted images and selfishness She loved the open views that afforded her a first hand look
A poem dedicated to john Lennon on his birthday: 9th of October Birthday and rebirth Celebrate it forever Dwellers of mother earth A newborn’s first cry That no one can deny John Lennon’s expression Correcting every mission No other year
What do you believe? Why do you believe it? How did you learn it? Who taught you? What where their motives. Ideas not men rule the world. Some believe in religion, some do not. Some believe in life after death,
The book is a compendium or a collection of over eighty poems, which address our physical make-up, socio-cultural attitudes about life, African political landscape and its historical past poetically. The first section of the book begins with a simple reflection
I am waiting for a miracle. A miracle of meteorological proportions. A miracle whose atmospheric propositions would be large enough to render it, and anything appertaining to it, be it high up in the sky that ends it, or down
Why do we feel love? Do we even know what loves is? How do know when we’re in love? Does anyone really know? Songs have been sung about love for thousands of years. Stories, poems, books and movies flood our
I learned to hold all my feelings inside until late at night. I covered my mouth with my hands so that no one could hear my tears. I perfected my fake smile. Today, after so many days, painfully enough, but
As the dusk sets in reluctance envelopes me pestering me and asking me the same question again And again. I ignore, unwillingly check-out drag my vehicle ahead, but the slightest touch of wind drifts me, scares me and travels me
Years from now I’ll remember this day The time I tried to write about you and didn’t know what to say There are thousands of thoughts running through my mind Finding the one that describes you completely is what’s hard
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.
I am serenity … standing here flowing… Seeking justice… Seeking peace… Pronounced with calm breaths… fearing not the chaos of the hatred armor and fists you bear… My face of clarity speaking with unspoken words… Yet loudly, stance proudly… with
It is yet another moment Misbalance of nature is building up Can you become a life client? Or you wish to stay there at the top Of a corporation False education Apathetic, indifferent A natural element Sea level rise Greed
On a cloudy day The grass plants were dancing with the air, laying on the green carpet of grass while travelling within me Pain wave origin from heart Like a deadly storm in a desert The crushing waves of pain
Life is a trick with interwoven plot Clever take advantage a lot Apparently truth seems failed All good deeds look derailed Tricky minds proud of all tricks They feel pride in their pricks Vice becomes part of drama Shadows take
I sleep to your sweet lullaby Composing songs of intoxicated love. And I look at our reflections on roads left wet from thirsting rain; Our love – laced between twisted bodies and entwined fingers that smell of the musky clouds
Look outward, vacillant eager suitor; the harbouring eyes reveal all. And never disappearing, your every thought would explore revolving exclaves; maintaining absolving introversion. Never subvert the remaining affection; never go. Endless reminder; sanguine. Rarely ever after death, there’s happiness. Every
This is where God breathes! Here is the mountain wellhead that cannot believe our bodies are drenched in darkness. Drops of water burning bright like verses from holy books. Here my heart smiles at Goethe’s heart, like a sun at
Hooray! Cheers for the falling rain Lifting a veil of haze, even the sight of a distant train A parade of colorful umbrellas bobbing, like music in refrain Their owners gingerly navigating the puddles of rain A cooling mist on
Time capsule in gangrene foot. It was madness of the legs. There were no sins in the ghetto. Only illicit distillation and girls changing the beds. It stinks when he says he was god. What was the ism of the
Let’s look together, in the tight, dark corners. Look in the tough, raw twilight– Once, I thought I found a bed, under a dome of stars. I tried to sleep. The world is always fresh. Everyone is always looking for
An idea aroused again In the very hope to become li’l sane An idea has aroused again As a solution to this disordered mind or brain the plan is to write some rhyming line with figure of speeches just quite
I want to walk the land meets its animals and learn their songs. Snakes there must be and gators hook-billed birds stalking the verge of lakes and rainfall ponds, candy-colored eyes rolling within wrinkled leather sockets. It would be easy
Your sweetness calls to me as though honey, That speaks rightly for countless humming bees, Or ambiance that floral scents convey, Or else, as breeze sifted by leaves of trees; As water gushing from rocks, crystal clear, For having passed
They will not allow the assisted suicide. The beetles; fiery and drunk. After the betrayal of arithmetic, the spiral staircase. Fireflies set foot on the skies to measure the darkness. The fire between us, of burning fat, of thousand years,
Life is a series of relationships, Which come & go as time drips. A consolidated sequence of life is lew, But the list of happy moments are few. Living life with that only one, And not an analogy of some.
In the stand-off between stolen history and presiding deity. Priest was hanged, while a blue cloud was shedding the yellow moon. Who was selling God on the road? A tall coconut tree was my home; all but your mouth was
Bloom today my soul with joy Let soft rain seep deeper in Let the griefs of yesterday Slip away, forgotten sin Charred and scorched the blackest marks Rubbed with gentle tenderness Till a calloused, hardened heart Yields anew to soft
Not a single word added today to my tinsel book. The brown eyes were searching my smile. You want to close the happening of first moon and the fig. My roses start a new dialect, waiting on the clouds, almost
It will be painful, generational. Hard to keep up. The old will resist fight the loss of their world. Change will be blinding, the fabric of civilization fraying turning to dust. Everything known will be obliterated. Humanity loses its identity.