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!
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
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
(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?
Hail to you o gracious guest The most awaited and cherished Alighting majestically onto the earth With splendid ceremony of a real king Whose eventful advent does signal A fast retreat of the winter chill That has been rather unkind
You went blank on the line between sand and water, between seizure and assault. The tribes have unwrapped their torches, they are coming in numbers. Who was going on trial? Fierce fidelity is demanding vendetta. The drummer announces the fight.
Shackled monster that lurks in every heart, Of such ferocious guile yet ever found, To smile the pain, deftly playing its part, So docile and courtly until unbound. With eyes, so green, and spiteful as it goes, Deceitful of mien,
Today I saw the bird which I had always looked upon. Ahh ! Noble and Majestic,as evergreen as before. Her beauty which has always sought for the freedom, still flamed my mind. My world only left a flicker of her
The warmest place is where the heart stays Where sweet memories abide This house of old, creaking timber and leaking roof Where in the courtyard stands my trusty friend Its boughs swaying in the path of the north wind And
Once I called you the love of my life now I’m starting to think twice… I can still hear you saying, “you won’t leave means if you do you’ll be back before dawn’s early morning light” I simply said, “goodbye
Sometimes when you don’t see me In a path you are heading to, Just look behind, You will always find me following you. Sometimes when you don’t need me At a point when you have everything with you, But anytime
Nations and nationalities, you are not chocolate, you are the sweetest Jam cooked from bitter labour! You are the original egg, the supreme cause of war and peace! You are the homeland of the rising sun and moon. You are
People play the dirty games, all for little fun or some fame. They hide behind the fake smile, deceiving the look in their eyes. They fail to hear the human heart, so miserably they tear it apart. Their empty laughs
View of the mountains,sipping coffee early in the morning, This morning I am glad to have your company. Lately people look at me in daze and ask me to stop hallucinating, But I don’t remember being without you,not even inn
Today, small things ask some uncomfortable questions. I enter the eye of a wound. Unscathed, will i obey the law of believing; the round mirror? It reflects the absolute truth? Consolations, they begin the attack in the valley of thoughts;
Strange is the land on which he treads seeking blood for the vengeance within he stops and sniffs, yes there is hatred here someone will fall for the false hope again some eyes will always be moist some hearts will
“Dedicated to my niece Noura” It was a Monday September ten 2007 When Noura gave me this feeling of being in heaven Her mother phoned me saying: “Charlotte is babysitting Noura but Noura is crying!” A taxi took me to
Having weaved the journey of life with my dreams I loitered all the way baffled and unsettled The depth of happiness and agony I could not measure Bearing with the sweetest and the bitterest outcomes With tears and smiles both
I slept, but not in peace For I dreamt of us in another place Of you in a benzene bloom Twisted and stiff in the roiling plumes Of fiery dragons eating your flesh Sucking the breath From your lungs You