University poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of university poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on university are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
The blind man covered in tattoos is being escorted across the street by a barmaid drunk on fumes her shoes leaving sticky impressions every step she takes and talks the things she’s seen all evening – fights that almost took
You’re a scholar, I’m a scholar, and everyone’s a scholar! Similar uniform, “Different coloured tie around the collar” Giant classroom, lessons and tests, “We’re always learning” So many tutorials we attend, “It can be very concerning?” People are busy and
There was once a minister who moved to San Francisco to pastor a little church. The name of that little church was Emmanuel which means “God with us”. There was an atmosphere about that little church that said to strangers
We have heard it all, So and so is a multimillionaire, He began by rearing chicken, Don’t you wonder? How did they reach at the top? Just because of chicken? No! The answer is simple, They didn’t have excuses not
Rains- smells Of dampness and chill, mother’s crispies, grandma’s tea Of coming home, all wet and cold, little pools flooding the floor Of dosas on the stove, day-darkness, drying clothes, A thunder bolt from the darkened skies, Wet feathers and
Dusted and faded, yellowed and cracked Yet overflowing with forgotten life, There are a hundred souls eager to reclaim The mind’s eye from an almost nothing. Quavering beneath the invisible ramparts And the omnipresent tower. Cold to idealism, yet basks
The girl is an ultra-modern scholar, Belongs with an upper-middle class family. Looking very nice, smart, gets angry suddenly. She reads M.A in English at Presidency University. She is assimilating the ideas of Shakespeare, Shelley, Keats, Neruda, Byron… Fluently speaks
(Jesus speaks at Liberty University, Virginia, wearing a T-shirt and jeans.) Now, a lot of you have asked me some very good questions, And a lot of these questions seem to go along the lines of: “Who is God? Is
Our men are slowly drowning in their tears. Labelled weak cos they express their fears. Father said I wasn’t man enough and told me to act tough cos I cried when I touched her cold body Regardless of the situation
And so ’tis done – drench is gone Salted spray no longer flies the wild air That grim Tempest, that did wax and surge deep, now makes only whispered remembrance of its fury and troubles not the delicate house of
Sound Many sounds Living sounds A world is built with sounds Who is speaking? There are emotions Is madness an emotion? The question A common noise Out of the endless loop of noise a sound emerges Can you hear it?
Good morning and welcome, this is the day, Your life will change, we’ll show you the way, We’ll work together to help you through, So you can do what you’d like to do. So many areas of nursing to choose,
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
All those years I underwent orthodontic care for naught cuz profound gum recession and bone dissolution found me fraught with an angst riddled necessity whence dentures bought or will soon bring relief, where financial cost to me = aught. though
All those years I underwent orthodontic care for naught ‘cuz profound gum recession and bone dissolution found me fraught with angst riddled necessity whence dentures bought or will soon bring relief, where financial cost to me = aught. though grievous
Everything we know, or think we know, comes from an infinitesimal speck of time and space. “Important” people, just random specks of insignificance. Nothing more than Sea Monkeys, fluttering around Sea Monkey world. Everything spoken as truth only reinforces ignorance.
Who closes the curtain? Sometimes a crazy wind. Who is paths washes? Rain is often. Sometimes tears,my darling. Why extended the night? Why want to sleep? Tired hearts. Sometimes dreams brings our desire Questions ends when? Who knows? You don’t
Amber your name burns like the embers in a fire, you’re more beautiful than a ruby an saphire, the shimmer shine that you reflect is more valuable than you expect, A precise jewel like you is hard to find, while
Somewhere the truth lies still and frozen why can’t we measure ourselves? Measure the unseen depth? Not for gain, not for bliss. For inner tranquility, moving into the time where living and dead meet. The silhouette of circling hawk was
‘I saw you standing beside the tree Surrounded by lush of greenery A beauty, that everyone would be Jealous ,to this pleasure, that I see As gentle winds whispers tenderly At nearby hills and through the valley The meadow glows
The war is not enough, The death is not enough Now someone maintain a silence Because they want some more death, And many of them want to live, But don’t forget, they want death, So many deaths! Is it mine?
A hesitant day for fat men and old women moving cautious but still slamming out the door and like infidels calling down a brace of ice spears exposed necks and those rounded shoulders so tender overloaded bodies knocked down stunned
Tick Tock Tick Tock Hickory Tickory tock Benevolence is the creature Amidst of all Time is not a river of mystery precisely present, future & history Time is mighty watches over us The abstract deity records and focus Time is
Each city is a hyperbole there is no homogeneity, it is not the sum of its parts or a royal being surround by courtiers, rather a convention, a name and usually not the name it began with a viral negotiation
There was the hunger and suicide. In favor of my brutal truth or virtue of my failure, I do not want any comments on my trauma. Morality has a dubious equation with power, provoking my anger. The days were full
Before we knew it we were on another planet Twelve thousand light years from home Where the hours spun backwards subtracting days Then weeks, then whole months from our lives We stuffed what was left into our rucksacks And with
Up there, the mind of saints is telegnostic And thought is superluminally telepathic; Via sensorial communications anomalous Gnosis and mind are venially synonymous. All is public fare; the personal life is dead And every thought you surfed in your head
The day comes to an end, And the dusk takes the light away. Everything feels so drowsy And we face the Sunset. The flying wings of time, Changes everything in the life of mine. The things are never same; As
Sanmati, my angel, has decorated jawline. Aside puts cold anger and does repine Negative things in her life, but always supine Merry things about the wide world divine. Against me or her things she despise saline. Tough tenderness she got
Conceived in love’s folded wings: I sit and watch him from the next table – fair-haired and impish, he swings his sturdy little legs. “Don’t fidget, darling! You’ll fall off your chair…” The words should have come from my mouth.
The old tree, tall against the sky – It’s still there, black, gnarled and lonely. The small laughing children I knew – Are somewhere, older, changed. You and me. facing tomorrow and memory. Where are we? As old April, an
In the eyes of judgment you are not worthy In your own you seek the reason why Conforming to what others think Is the first step to losing yourself Losing yourself is the first step to living a lie Indulge
Dad are you and mom Going shopping to the new big Mall? Here is my list, please get them all A big Football, A few stickers for the wall, Energy drinks to make us grow tall, Two racing electronic cars,
That puppy, puppy on the floor. seems little sleepy but devoid of any door. That puppy ears, little sad puppy eyes, little puppy with no fears, That puppy with lots of tries. That puppy, staring somewhere seeking someone in the
Slaves work hard in the cotton field from morning to night deprived of yield. They have to endure the heat from the sun. Oh, when will their lives as slaves be done? The slaves have little food to eat, and