Best Poems Collection About Life..
The Tree of Life
Coiled spring, analogoustension & pressure,prehistoric neighborhood,cauldron of nuclear power:
we were drinking gin &tonics from the planet’s jawwhen the news came. Rosesare red, violets are blue jeans;
cupcakes are cop-food, deathis a dinosaur (extinct, et cetera)whispering the future is anold friend shouting “don’t
be afraid.” Dear degeneracy,dearer street map of Texas,dearest thrust-to-rocket ratiofrom which God puts cock toabyss: Modernity, my fucker,is the natural languageof structure; our goodwillgets complicated when
we break Hell in unsimpleshapes. Fourth of July,fifth of July, sixth of stellarlighthouses surrounding
space, seventh: one isalways coming upon someAmerican city whispering I amsome American city & I am
the desire to be within itwhen the sun fries. We danceunder the asterisks, dip ourtoes in the ink. The odds thestars will write our sentenceremain incredibly low...!!!
Play in the Dark The Poem
Even the cold hearted do not like to be coldTheir life quiversClose to shatterThose who stay in the dark are easy played,
Even the warmest people do not like to be hotTheir life overwhelmingClose to explosionThose who stay out to play get left in the dark,
Even the dark hearted do not like the darkTheir life in fearClose to nightmareThose who become the dark rather not play at all,
Everyone deals with darkness and parts they do not likeTheir life sold in secretClosed off to othersIt is pointless to play where you cannot see...!!!
Love Overdosing The Poem.
some in love with that material butlove enters my life like a miracle andit’s reciprocal and ubiquitous love exhibiting our natural behaviorslike making it under the moon in jamaica,
giving voice to my soulit’s my heart you’re living init’s your ocean I’m swimming inlove’s potion overdosingis approaching...!!!
This is not your typical love letter.I am in love.Not with the guy next dooror the charming jockOr even the bad boy...!!!
No, I am in love with the people on the streets.
I am in love with their surprise when their casual How are you? doesn’t turn out to be rhetorical.
I am in love with their intense honesty when I ask them the same question in return.
I am in love with the hope that swells in their hearts when I lock eyes with them and they realize they might not be invisible after all.
I am in love with the artist and musician and scholar in each one of them.
I am in love with their humanity
And nothing breaks my heart more than seeing their downcast gazes fixed on the hard, unfeeling ground
As if they don’t believe themselves worthy to be seen
I wish I could just place them in front of mirror
So they could understand how beautiful they are
Especially during those moments
When someone else reassures them that they truly do exist.