Writers poems bring the best collection of short and long writers poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great writers rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these writers poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on writers are here for you.
Some days are harder than others. For so many topics I’ve already covered. Where to start? Where to begin? Story to lose? Story to win? Epic feelings to make one cry, A tragic tale of a sad goodbye? Soaring emotions
I sit by my window every morning, Wanting, willing to write a poem. The pen in my hand yearns to touch the blank paper, Like a lover yearns to touch the beloved. The paper breathes patiently, The warm sun brushes
“You are wrong, I am right Is this what’s its all about? Where is the love, the care? and all the lovely emotions that were there Is this all that is left in us, Questions, arguments and fights?” There I
Nothing captivates me Other than your intimidating eyes Like they are meant to hypnotize Sometimes mysterious, sometimes cheerful Sometimes hiding the pain behind the moist Yet perfectly beautiful are your angel eyes. Just as if this wasn’t suffice God blessed
Night after night, with the stillness of death, dreams flashing on the screen of the mind, rasping breath going of like minute bombs thru’ the constant o of the mouth, groping hands giving off carbonic fumes, sculpturing odoriferous forms, abstract
When the night was full of terrors, As a child what you had encountered in your sleep with the demons or devils, Or the beautifully adorned prince or princesses, The superheroes and the fantasies and yet some more- “Dreams” ,
“Social Potpourri – An Anthology II” promises a collection of inspirational and humorous episodes. True to its objective of bringing writers to the forefront and bridging the gap between talent and getting published the company accepted submissions from its members
Spaceship ! You know that spaceship is related with Alien, Moon, Planet, Star, Stun Gun… You may be right or wrong I don’t want to know it ! Sometime my soul creates a spaceship I enter into it from my
have hit a writers block I guess, am not finding any inspiration to write something about the world anymore, or maybe I am concentrated too much on my own world. I have to bring order to chaos somehow, bring sanity
Heart breaks.. A topic that rules the world of fiction. The cinema loves it, the writers give it so much of stardom and center stage. Be it the classics or the contemporary, tragedies out stand the happy endings. It’s also
Scores of my write ups came on the way Brickbats and flowers thrown all along the way Riding high with the thoughts nobody comes my way Nothing new is being written by me by the way Wonder whether have I
Somewhere along the dark shades of trees I could feel someone’s waiting for me A creepy feeling I couldn’t hide A spell telling me not to hide. A second thought I set aside As I wandered through the night I
My wife worked at a hospital at night, and I did not want her to drive herself. Our youngest son had just gotten his driver’s license. So he was very excited about driving her to work. Invariably, after he dropped
From the Rose: Blooming in a bed of thorns Rich colors imbued with jazz Heady fragrance in a sinful dance Riots of confusion crowding the senses Alluring, tempting, trapping… Final swirls into a web of guilty fragrance Can only see
No. She’s not simply your good and nice neighbor next door. O, it’s true that she’s caring and giving, but there’s so much more. And she overflows with peace and security, with a lot more in store. No. She’s not
Been born three months when Kennedy got shot Didn’t really recognize the significance From the comfort of my cot Didn’t know Vietnam was such a brouhaha Or that the world would not be at peace For at any one time
That grave alchemy of cold fusion, of turning mercury into gold, makes me undone in a fit of anger. Punished before the crime committed, of saying no for yes, of disobedience in the face of a command, I am becoming
The ones causing misery of contemptuous scorn All naturally be present pretentiously to mourn With affected sympathy an overly visible display Assigned triviality living for dead stand and pray Mocked for held beliefs in absence since revered Daubed with fragrances
Old numbers, lighthouses, baked bread. I open my eyes. nervous and irritable. Another day with vertigo. Five shillings grew lighter and lighter, the grinning letters, occupied me, tender and cool. Things change their colour, and die, The ever-increasing noise, the
Happiness happens when you least expect it. It can come after a while of being rejected. When you are feeling down, life’s moving kinda slow, happiness can happen from a simple hello. When you admire someone and they say hi.
Pale liberty, never thou art within people’s reach, Born and brought up in palaces old Under careful cradles of rulers bold Whom we often called bald despots. Thy brazen presence in statues gold Where static freedom hides in feared cold,
We did not grieve your passing so much As the defiance that left With the passing of your ashes, into the river of sorrow Defiant you were, In front of the towering tides of the raging ocean, Defiant you were,
Amid ashes pumice lay Life in cinders Pompeii in disarray Vesuvius plumed angry swell Archeologists unearth deathly knell Volcanic vomit ample spume from sunlight golden to darkened gloom Roman bathing in waters pure Nimbus of fires blazing coiffure In 79
He picks, that’s what he does. Picks his brain for rational thoughts. Rips them apart, twists the bits and joins them back again, misshapen. Holds them up to the light, interrogates them, tortures them and Then drowns them in the
My imagination sets sails on lotus leaves and paper boats; for I never ment to travel far. But to picture the little mermaid’s adventure along the foamy edge of oean’s floor! My imagination builds nests high up in tall trees.
I am a child Standing on the vast sea shore Collecting sea shells to quench My curiosity I don’t know what an oyster is I know only the shells. The waves sweep high above my height The sea sometimes wails
Have you given birth? If you have written poetry then you have It doesn’t matter if you are young or old Man or woman Tall or short Poets give life to words Everyday, in every way, everywhere In a hectic
Vengeance pumps through the hand That grips my blade. Anger powers The pistol in my other hand. My face is masked by death and darkness. I have seen a ruler have her breath stolen from her, But did not wield
Let me recount, in how many ways happiness Happens, In the early hours of morning, sunrays touch your face When the birds chirp and twitter, When the wind blows and water flows. All the noise, and all the silence that
Between want and desire few crumbs of words will not satisfy. Facts and perception build a latticed smile between tears. Discreetly life catches a miasm, a fault to commit suicide. When will the exile end, of hope, a holy womb?
Had I known how happiness happens I would have shared with you dear friend know not why sometimes the world riches do not move and yet sometimes a dime looks miraculous Why this happens I stand unmoved near a blooming