Tribal poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of tribal poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on tribal are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
As a result of abundant endowment, A state in nature, ensured of security A stage of impasse had we reached, Below which a formidable breech, The means of effectiveness without, Our primitive tools of war betrayed. Despite the valour we
Well and there is a LOST SEA Somewhere running through The crystal caverns down and Around the foot hills of the Appalachian Mountains… I remember some kind of strange Indian folklore from many lifetimes Lived before, you look into my
(1) Tents are crowded by windows, but missing walls and a jasmine flower. (2) A window is a border between consciousness and sub-consciousness, between Ego and its annihilation. (3) A home without a window is a blind man with no
The sound of guns may scare the birds on the trees, but rob not their songs. Autumn withers the leaves, but the flowers forget not spring— the time they should throng. Soldiers are killed here by the strangers of the
She bloomed In the dense secrecy The vivid greenery Seeming adorned! The spring Spraying fragrance To her Each giggling note She hissed Soft lullabies To the blinking buds When hurt by the stings The flies thrust… Draped in beauty Her
A tribal fear was lurking, behind a surge of emotion. The sun was looking black. A sexual abuse of a quaint flower aborts the fruit. This year we will go hungry. A nascent seed stripped on road- cries for water.
That tribal instinct sits in the denial. Words fly in fog carrying absurd meanings. I was ready for the impeachment. Like a pinned butterfly you lived several times, repeating a dialogue on a mindless thought. From nothing to nothingness, you
The whiteness in a black-spotted dove flies away from my head, each time war wakes up; A voice falls down from a window staring into emptiness, which is jammed with fragileness and trivialities, and crashes on the cracked street. Rust
Running to and fro, Going somewhere, going nowhere. Fighting for survival, fighting for revival, Some call it revolution I call it confusion. Hunger in the land, Trouble in our towns, Politicians say they have the solution, But their parties have
A tribal instinct stops the nemesis: Spraying the blood-soaked, small foot prints on my chest; unlocking, I accept myself. Why contained anger of awesome ache over the periphery? Through the atrophied, black limbs – an elite infusion of trespassing knowledge?
New Soul Journey and Angels all around somewhere on the edge of eternity…I turn around to find my guardian holding out his hand then suddenly I am free of this world as pillars of colors rapture me away and so
In my mind’s eye, I see the humiliation of you. How you endured all that hatred of the world. As we sinned in glorious splender, with much to do You silently suffered and hurled Us towards salvation, as each hammer
That kind of kiss and runoff. Why don’t you concede to the fraud? It was a haunted dilemma, kidnapping of a verdict. Dinosaurs were wiped out by a clean sweep of a meteorite long back, millions of years. Now, present
Live every day like it was meant to be, helping all those who want to be free. Feel the warmth in a genuine smile, a childish giggle can bridge the miles. Surround everybody with happy ways, bask in the heat
That dark and lurking shadow With its looming sense of gloom The overpowering pain it could bestow Tearing into laughter and relations, slow That dark and lurking shadow Which so sullies the spark of life Casting an eclipse of endless
What implorations do they trace? These crooked legs in convulsion These crawly things in deathly grace What feeling evoke, what compulsion? The crushed mass on concrete floor In pasty death mocks my wisdom Should I act, or do I ignore
O my friend Jerry, You are a sweet cherry. You have perfected your life, After a great great strife. You have maintained self discipline, Marking your life neat and clean. As a poet I can understand you, For you are
A chill rose the morning as the sun danced away While snow chose her fall, — beneath invading gray Frozen for my darling, — a fallen flake she lay Never to drift another, from the heavens in that way Talking
Why are you afraid of deviations? It’s a natural phenomenon, When medium is changed light deviates, And the seven beautiful colors, Appear as a beautiful rainbow, Plurality is the offshoots of singularity, Let these colors play their roles, On the
Thou art, of truth, a foe Woe betide thee, oh snow Once thy fall shall thaw, Thou shall stand in awe. When open wide, thy mouth agape, In the sun, dyed, thy drape. When, dripping down, comes the rain, Thou,
In a strange land, where time moves is circles they rear them everyday, everyday is the same animals, some you have seen, some unseen humans, some you know of, some you don’t with dawn they are all born, and vanish
Sometimes these feelings inside me, tickle so hard at the core in my body, physically. But where ? I don’t exactly know. Somewhere beneath my head ? or perhaps knocking under the chest ! but it does, and frequently. The
Through the distance, this comes from Sweetness to shower on you her heart’s soaring affection growing warmer, glowing brighter and more tender to assure you, rich or poor, you are still her life across the miles she would like to
All I could hear were the deafening roars of the crowd at the show stopping moment, when everything got silent. The smell of something burning reached my nose, but I decided to ignore it. “Fire!” a voice screeched. Get up!
I walk through the main door, heaving my gaze on every little thing I could see, Daggering signs of unkempt mess, spread all over the floor, Fringing little pieces with signs of dust obscured upon, Every little memory I could
…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
Pinhead’s lounging in the armchair. Dreams waiting by the stair Pennywise is peeping through the curtains looking for children to scare Marvin is arguing with the kitchen door while Arthur Dent makes a cup of tea. Death has been hogging
He was walking on a highway, Many cars moving fast, stopped, Offered him a lift, But he did not agree, It was too hot, The sun was burning, But he was walking. In the rains, Lightning killed his beloved, He