Vessels poems bring the best collection of short and long vessels poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great vessels rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these vessels poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on vessels are here for you.
We are but vessels of the creator, within, the culmination. The culmination of the creators experiment. How we look, what color, what sex, what nationality, irrelevant. What we produce is what matters, what we bring to the table. Has the
Only those with the wisest minds -the oldest eyes, remember the days of love truly lost. The woman with the rage speckled iris, the man with the world-heavy curved spine, Holding aloft thy heads as the wisping breaths of each
Like city wall that blocks off invaders, so is the skin which covers the body from head top to the sole of the foot. A wall that protects the body against known and un-known enemies, a drain pipe that discharges
O, bemused mystery of wonder! You are the silver chain of fancy And evening mentor of joys high! And happy boon at noon Or midnight’s roaring void And wintery smile in moon? Or perennial source of ecstasy Or eternal source
All the talk, murmurs rushing from room to room anxious dogs unable to please, dark clothes, suppressed expressions, napkins and finger foods piling up, glasses clinking in the kitchen sink with no one around just the weight of all those
Introduction: It comes in a small cylinder of white rolled cover, a-four-inch-processed-tobacco- leaves, which becomes very active from slow and low combustion sustained by heat. Call it cigarette- maybe cigar-spit tobacco, perhaps, hookahs, menthol, bidis, clove or kreteks, probably, shisha
I am precious to both kingdoms, both dark and light. I carry power and potential to grow both kingdoms, so both sides are fighting for me. The one king offers: Temporary satisfaction and happiness, but neglects me when I am
No sooner had the crooning of birds Help me ease off the bed in regularity, Than made me sad, of having to wake upto it For a final time. The mornings spent in sleep, Were painful hours of indecision, As
Once it touches it savors, A specialty or a perfect taste, A succulent prep it favors, Abhors that morsel gone waste. Inferno, when spruced with spice Addictive, when trickled sweet, Arctic, when met with ice, Articulate, when prudent and upbeat!
Broken Heart, intense hurt from within Million pieces, spiralling around Blood vessels overflowing. With sadness, that can be seen Broken Soul, impossible to ponder straight Worn down and broken Soul saddens to point of no return Positive words seldom spoken
I was a bit older than you, you were a bit younger than me, We were so-called neighbors. You’re a different kind of girl, who’s shy and little, suddenly, friendship fell. We were so close, like brothers and sisters, who
Looking for each other Hands trapped in long tresses, mouths thirstily biting other’s words even before on the lips to be born, eyes looking the zenith in other’s eyes’ depths – the thirst for each other is relentless and it
Like a beautiful woman standing tall, wrapped with a shawl amidst the mist; there exists a seine between what is & what can’t be! And though it’s made up of mere words; it keeps one safe from rash assertion! Like
Yet another threshold to archives consigned Not greatly different & equitably assigned Peaks yet to be scaled troughs I still contend Old resolve as essence logic even now defend A blend nearly flawless but for the final whisk That tells
If Hope is the thing with feathers, perhaps Life is that stony thing, that stony Enigma. If someday, somehow, somewhere, I catch some glimpses of what makes a heart, a stone, and what makes a stone, watery before someone dies…
It is said, that suffering shows the truth. Only the sufferer discovers light of Being. Light contains seven colors. Yet I didn’t manage to catch the Rainbow. It is said, that suffering is, what is True. I know! I know!
A green smoke was rising to ferret out the elusive pain without body. I went in search of fidgety words to patch up the conflicts of flesh. Bold as Passiflora, Crucifixion was complete. Today a gift of obeyance will arrive.
Fighting with his ghosts, intimate dirt, disseminating pain he was going home. Finding a panic room in pectorals, for numbness of toes, lifting the door of burden in dying vision, his father comes in daylight of old age, climbing the
goats ate all the flowers before chased by farm girls all the little rumps flee so pleasant over the grass bees in the clover formal in their golden dresses get their stockings dirty smelling like sneezes there’s a raccoon by
” The ancient sages solicited from Almighty to be born again ‘here’, The Buddha got ‘Buddhahood’ Only in serene landscape of ‘here’, The ‘world-conqueror’ ‘for all the world’ Returned as ‘Self-conqueror’ only from ‘here’, Many ‘Sufis’ find their ‘Khanqah’ Seeking
When I, the passing night would now review, When you were in my arms, of love replete, And which by such, I could only construe, No other night transpired by half as sweet; The moon may have wasted its beams
“A young, bubbly lass once I saw, Tall, dusky and a charming smile she wore. Like all little girls, she waited in anticipation, Of a handsome young man, Who’d love her like no one. Her little follies he would overlook,
Through my struggles, I see, He cuts off every branch every offshoot, every seed He prunes, in my withering He endures me, for my blossom In my cries, He listens to me In my sorrows, He comforts me In my
A young couple walked into the maid agency “I’m looking for the perfect au pair!” He exclaimed One that will keep my princess entertained, Someone to paint a radiant smile everyday. Oh, and she would play with her Take her
The unwed moon rowing like a swan on blue lake after making love to silence. Dignified shadows walk on black beach gathering white heels. Only lunatics will sing in shapeless lines. Who cares for a sequence? The milk of love
Someday I’m crossing over, over to the other side, I’m going home with Jesus, there with him abide. Until my life is over, from life I’ve passed away, Jesus will be waiting, to take me home to stay. My spirit
Remembering the days of old, when father raked the leaves of Golden, yellow, brown and orange Jumping into the huge crisp pile, I tossed them all about As my father raked them on top of me I would creep out
SEARCH What is it that we are looking for? Validation? Connection? Approval? Appreciation? Applause? Respect? Love? Acceptance? What is it that drives us on? What is it that gives us hope? What is it that makes us carry on? What
The lightness you feel at the oneness he brings As you melt in his thoughts with all his allure, Nothing could match the pleasantness that rings The lightness one feels, at all things pure. A feeling that no words can
I forgot to tie her to the dock Now I’m forced to sit here, I can’t swim Watching her drift away one last time. Memories flood my mind The storms she and I survived The bountiful seasons we had together
The falling rains, the blowing wind The call of mountains, The songs of river, The chanting of bells, The joy of spring Are indeed sweet, Alas; but not – as sweet Sweet as you are The dreams which drive, The
as tears pour down on earth turned new a holy man prays while generals praise the fallen, wasted on wars not civil on wars not holy while mad men gather planning more mad folly leaders don’t end followers falter while