Tuesday poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of tuesday poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on tuesday are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
I want a Tuesday kind of love. The sort of thing that involves little dreaming and scheming; the sort of thing that comes paired with too-strong coffee and too-loud songbirds and the drone of the news at 6 a.m. or
Same rise, Regular routine Boring set, Ending with gym That’s what I imagined for today I never knew this typical day would turn a Lucky Tuesday! Still wondering why did you come up and said “Hi”? Just then you stole
Poetry doesn’t just happen. It’s not just a bunch of words grabbed hastily and arranged to rhyme, it’s not even a so called overflow of emotions. Poetry is much more than that. It’s the silence that echoes within your being,
You want the girl that wears pretty flowing dresses and floral Vans. Not the girl who wears mismatched brightly coloured trainers With odd socks and jumpers that would be more suited a boy on the Nickelodeon channel in 1996. You
Perfect hot white ceiling giving back planetary anger at persons and plants making a griddle of the city’s streetmap and challenging those afoot to not drown swallowed in their own sweat Opera singer enters air conditioned library cool and quiet
Once when the forest wept, We hid under a tree, as if protected. Twice we saw the force of the storms, Cycle so stunning, even as it poured. Three pinecones fell to the ground, When they splashed, what a sound.
So much Krisnachura was strewn on the path, we stomped on them, wind was tousling— so sweet, like a lovely woman, musk of wild champak. The perfume reminds me of exquisite palms, deep coiffure and wild dreams of night. Then
He came along into her life, Like a sunshine after a horrible night. The bliss that followed him, Buried the pain and let it dim. She held him close to her bosom, for the happiness that formed a chasm He
A chaotic moments we did face, Filled with tension and bubbling of heads; Here the shouting came, There the things flew. Any day was emergency, Any day was important. Lamps did burn all night through, No food we did touch.
When there were no more Messiahs left to kill that day, the men of the town went home for another night of hoping, wailing, waiting and praying. The Night bore them a child. And Morning came knocking on their doors
Yes, I don’t believe in love anymore For love, has turned an enemy today. It’s treacherous, cunning and disloyal, It wants – it is greedy But never gives – is a miser. It’s no more trustworthy I feel, I know
Knee deep in snow I walk. Listening to the wind in the trees, flying snow everywhere. Silent the sound. Just the rustling of tree limbs flying snow. I walk through the forest cleansing my my mind. Squirrels in the trees
Hello! Chester here… Missing you so, A bookworm am I, Oh, yesss, today just sliding by… With spectacles on my nose, I do both poetry and prose. Want to hear more about me … And my family…? So awfully lovely
Take into consideration what we’ve witnessed, experienced, Our brothers and sisters being Laid to rest every weekends. Their bodies being buried Six feet under this land, Their souls leaving this precious earth, Into the heavens and the horrible hells. All
I saw you struggle today Coffee and bag, trying to open the door I slowed my pace Not wanting to communicate Choosing not to help What if I had Would you have made it to your interview Without a coffee
The thief helped the blind man up his front steps caressed his elbow and asked about lucky numbers and did he dream about more than one thing – was there smell and touch and sound, how could he tell if
She came to visit me from America, Everybody shouted, she is my replica. She is very pretty, white and pink, She wore her jacket, made of mink. My little lady always looked very busy, Serving tea with her beautiful tea-cosy.
It’s crazy how when we are young we have no care in the world. We live freely and just for today. We don’t think about tomorrow unless it’s a sleepover. friends party. concert. vacation, or school break. When we are
When terror strikes, fear inside you makes a hissing sound, breaks the vessel. Pain spurts out. Your limbs swell like sapphires in a naked suffering. You were searching the face of your dead brother on burning ghat. And then on,
Down memory lane I traveled, at the first corner of endless street I met almond eyes dimpled cheeks silk soft tresses My First Poem –She!! further down at the second corner nostalgic charm lyrical beauty simple smile My Second Poem
Nineteen Thirty to Two Thousand and Four Expounds a brief history of a noble Grandeur Not just a mere statue of cement, but of a great man A shiny suited man, who welcomes everyone. Surrounded by flags and healthy pampered
What foolishness you dear men, think of me, am a stick Mere pole, with no life nor living strength, but thy force; That you felt inactive, is my strength, me a poor branch of a tree, Cut apart and fell
Breath on my window silently screaming out for a certain Scorpio but it’s like you’ve just disappeared, like a ghost in the blinding snow, the fire here inside is warm but I feel a chill craving your hot, hot lovin’,
Waned and weary with only toil and trouble my limbs could only travel this journey tired. . In my head to in my mind -which coincidentally were not the same thing- thoughts seemed to expire from the zealous fear found
The sky is deep and murky green, The white sun sinking over the horizon, Extended by junk and litter. This is the oxymoronic haven. A carnival of despair Filled with torturous laughter Distorted, slow, hurdy-gurdy whistles, And tinkling, unsettling music-boxes.
Why do I feel like this tonight? Getting confused between what’s wrong and right. Always thinking about you whether its day or night. Can’t stay alone when you are out of my sight. Remaining depressed and taking unnecessary fight. Please
Dreaming autumn night is really an Unspeakable pleasure; he knows it. Therefore when dusk settles on earth Inviting blinking stars to showcase Their tiny births; when coy crickets Being too cold in season’s first dews, That drip from the cold
Remember the season, When you and I become friends for a reason, Since then we’ve been together, In happiness and pain it doesn’t matter. We capture every split second, That’s how we reckon every memories after hand, The felicity that
It fell like nothing before, and tried hard to quench the thirst, but every drop of it failed, whether the last..or the first…. The coolness was now a dream, the passion a haste, hence when it kissed the ground, it
Jealousy has grown like fruitless trees It has spread like width of seven seas It can’t be justified with very many pleas Life is condensed cocoon of humming bees Humans are no more, but hollowness remains Losses have crossed the
That song, so sweet, sweet music to my heart, Has played so many times to my delight, Or countless since the time my daydreams start, As they persist to also drone each night; It might occur that such a tune
He started in an infirm tone as if the poem were escaping through his clenched behind, images and meaning forcing their way out, evoking a limp echo from his moist mouth. It had to be some elder enthusiast reading a
You never touch the ground neither go round and round hung up for a very different use your job now to make them amuse after retirement a change of fate now into swinging than erstwhile rotate sure I’m for this
What would you name a relationship- Sans lust Sans sensuousness Yet so cherished that it leads to a big smile. What would you name a relationship- Illogical Unacceptable Still so desiring that it ignites the soul. What would you name
It was for a bridge: water issue, without a river. We were fighting for the tongues on a wordless journey. The unlucky sex was on fire after the explosion. Hands off the mouth. Life was eating death. The bells will