Volcano poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of volcano poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on volcano are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
It is full dark before 2:00 PM every day. temple bells ring in the streets for the dead the high chimes disturb the windless fall of ash. the planet had bellowed now it crouches still expecting another lash. we are
An ode to Bhimsen Joshi You sing to the earth, it’s minerals, it’s metals, it’s pure stones. You sing to the earth, it’s sand, the yellow sand, the red sand, it’s rivers of sorrow, the waves, the waves that no
There is vacuum in the space Between love and hate and there is doubt in the space between truth and lie. But the plane is abnormal when You don’t trust your view. Grasp the gap, like melting lava From an
I came from a house adorned By a river as its border The banks of which even now Rustle with love. The branches of trees, shedding Feathers of night birds reflecting Fairy tales on my inner self. While bathing in
Hiding deep secrets within She got eyes like an ocean Calm like the winds, beautiful as the heaven Shining like a star, burning like the sun She got eyes like an ocean Emotions and stories lost in this ocean Are
Drifting through the meadow of love On a boat above the clouds Looking down on the face of Earth Colors of a Rainbow on dusty brown Creatures running round and round Demons slaying innocent dreams A gush of red flows
I remember our first hungry kiss we behaved as though the time was less making patterns on each others’ body how can I forget the place where you first touched my heart it was then we told each other we
This is mine not yours I control every force. Take it easy and share Selfishness is not fair. Greedy declare Ownership, to build Castles on sand. Waves smoothly Shave castles and run. Systems of a fool Abide by harsh rule.
Stovepipe tall and thin, all the shades of gray. Eyes so new you might think he’d sprung from a black snake firework. In tumescent jack-in-the-box, sprung toward the clouds. Likely to fall over yet, somehow both erect. And able to
Hi Daniel, There once was a man living high on a mountain whose name was Harry Mt. St. Helen was threatening to blow its top, and everyone started to worry Harry had been there 60 years and thought he would
I lay here feeling a violent hue a ravaged red- a blackened blue mis-taken words- no intent by you triggered the dark! the dark came through it rose to the surface and said its due shattered my heart and destroyed
Silence in crowded place is like a mirage in desert Silence after failing in Exams is like a darkness in the Noon Silence in Hospital is like a noose around the neck Silence between the couple is like a volcano
Coming face to face with hemlock you are not able to rain in the animal and start climbing the temperamental tree. Fathered by innocence of violence on the name of war, when were you going to kill? Your own progency?
A plug dismantles a temper unveils a pink bullet-hole on the fore-head. A butterfly flutters and then sits on the lips, offers an apology for the smile. The water blooms in eyes cascading to chest for measuring the mounts. Who
Love Rocks like wind across the sea Love Rocks like a rocket at top speed Love rocks Love Rocks like a storm to a willow tree Love Rocks like Times square on New Year’s Eve… It’s amazing; it’s dynamic and
I shall like to live my life as a Promethean poem And steal to earth God’s most sacred fire from heaven! Which prosody, a psalm of echoes in efflorescence; Which beauty, its raison d’être, the extant of essence; Which truth,
The man he stands in burning ashes, A volcano flows into the sea it masses. The world will drown tsunami trashes, A black day dawns, for 20’000 years it passes. No life on earth except cockroaches, A symbol foretold by
When your hot breath passes through warmth of my breath an amazing heat is born from the burning volcano of love that generates a new energy for two hearts to board a ship of love-dreams When my thirsty eyes peep
The warning had been written centuries before Hearts had not listened nor the story fully heeded. since members of my family decided from one generation to the next passed this vision. Yellow streams of blood red lighting flew down like
About The Bottomless Pitcher One that never fills but still overflows…. A barrel of water for some A bucketful of tears for the other A pocketful of love for one A volcano of fears for the other How do I
I guess the first real cuts were more than they needed to be the number of times I’d twirled the blade constructing stillborn balsa skeletons, stegosauri and plesiosaurs always amputating a rib or femur by accident, preferring to leave them
It was past endurance. Flattened rage went into shaking palsy. He moved into sculptured dark like false reason, to defend the ankle-bone, for sequential pain. Every one seemed a fallible saint wet eyed, sitting on extinct volcano, between tickling bombs
Marginality// By: Fareed Ghanem **** (1) When eyes rain on beautiful steps along a novel’s paths, while you stay out of the text, know that you are put in the margins; when you boil like sleepless volcano, just to furnish
I, thirst for nudging the butter lamp to peep inside the dark of a Shiva crater of human suffering, between your pain and my blood there was ancient history, where will you go now, no light has touched you so
Through the stormy desert Your thirst staggered for days, And ends up sipping Fresh experiences as consolation. An ocean of memories inside heart Constantly combust like wild flames, Yet seems so peaceful Like the rough skin of an extinct volcano.
Let it be, a dawn prayer, dripping with fantasy intercepting the strip-search of soul tempting a mad psyche. The sleeping volcano was going to celebrate, put the sign on. Perfectly shineless hands will raise the banner to donate kidneys, eyes
the coming day pushes the blue sky west o’er the far valley beyond the mountains crest I left her down in Corazon without forgiveness…in the night she was searching for the grace of God she was looking…for the light but
As a volcano, you erupt without notice, burning every stone down to its true state. As the third eye, you open suddenly, burning every mask down to its true face. You are not the angel who descends from heaven with
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
Unsullied pallid canvas propped on easel again To paint picture afresh sans any of nasty stain Imagery to be sanguine with cheery kind of feel All gray must dump now for new vibrant appeal A multicolored palette of vivid
Thoughts amplify intense feelings deep within the soul They twist your stomach into knots, leaves you whining to delights of devilish delusions. An unaltered disposition supremely preposterous based upon familial suppositions induced from repetition. Lingering beyond temptations within confines ludicrously
From my lashes fall a salty solution but never the solution to the trigger of my violent pollution. Feeding the well within me with ammunition of self-pity. My thoughts seeking through garbage dumps of my mishaps, picking up and hoarding