If one friend sees, if one friend, only, knows — If but one stalwart brother understand…
As a child before going to sleep, your mother or father or anyone sings you to sleep. But as an adult, you want to try to let go of the bad moment or entirely day and all you hope for is a good night’s rest without remembering a thing and not letting it carry over to the next day. #updivine #updivinevibes
This is such a beautiful poem to me written in late January 2020 and how it made me feel so speechless makes it feel like a dream. I was creating this poem thoroughly day in and out to where I wanted to go and how listeners and understand it clearly to not only where I was coming from from my roughness past but to bring it to full life of love, peace and happiness inside living in a Dream world.
One look at you, is all that matters The thunder insides splutters My gasps turn into a rythmic breath as calmness builds in sheaths. I kneel down towards you. You are blissfully in full bloom Radiant and dissolving all gloom.
Hi. What if I were a skyscraper in a busy city? Oh, what a beguiling view, City of dreams, call a few. It shines like a carnival, so grand Did someone call the stars on…
Love’s Philosophy is a poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley where the speaker of the poem is trying to woo the addressee. S/he calls for their union stating that it is the divine law of nature.
This poem is based on what sometimes society thinks …Just conveying that every girl can dream big without being judged…
They say time is everything. A doctor that heals, an engineer that makes, a teacher with lessons, police to protect, a boss that orders, a servant who serves. It is your everything and your only thing. So can we not talk to it?
Echoing Word Itself, by J. W. Cassandra. I placed my poem to my volume 18, “Incompletion”, cycle “I See the Unseen”. It is a vision and a poem at the same time, the subject is the Word and the entire strophe 2 refers back to this subject, manifesting in strophe 1. I share here the Hungarian version, as well.
Echoing Word Itself, by J. W. Cassandra. I placed my poem to my volume 18, “Incompletion”, cycle “I See the Unseen”. It is a vision and a poem at the same time, the subject is the Word and the entire strophe 2 refers back to this subject, manifesting in strophe 1. I share here the Hungarian version, as well.
This stream joins the river, its final destiny. And The Brooks (as personified by Alfred Lord Tennyson) mocks the humans as ordinary mortals who get consumed by time.
Sir Tennyson’s love for nature is evident from the fact that how beautifully he adds sensuality in the description of a river.
A poem dedicated to a friend. A strange poem for strange people.
A short poem by a broken heart
It’s just a sad poem to express a person conflicting with emotions and giving up his/her life💔
Every moment is enjoyable with our friends…
