Novel & Cerita Short Poems That Are Deep

* I saw the beauty of the sky Colors so vibrant you'd think they never die * I saw the beauty of the waves Every splash telling a story of younger days * I saw the beauty of the rains Every drop falling freely like horses without reins * I saw the beauty of the night For only then were the stars alight * I saw the beauty in the flames of a fire Each one burning with a different desire * I saw the beauty of Gold Glistening with bitter stories untold * Oh I saw the beauty of dust and clay Simple reminders of our end someday.

It was surprising our Alpha and Luna had let her move there, considering she was very much human. Mrs. Juniper absolutely adored poetry, mostly the classics. I’d never forget the endless headaches I suffered trying to decipher what Shakespeare, Robert Frost, and Alfred Tennyson were trying to convey. Why poets had to make such simple lessons so confusing was beyond me. Why did they have to use pretty words to convey truth? ‘This doesn’t seem to be so hard.’ Rayna countered, murmuring the words to the poem in my head. ‘It mentions beasts twice, which has to be the bulls, right?’

I didn't expect that. "That's a really sad book," I say. "You've read it," she straightens up a little. I nod. "And the other one?" "My mom gave it to me," she tightens her hold on it. "Poems, by Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Ernest Hartley Coleridge. Do you know him?" "Yeah. No man was ever yet a good poet, without being at the same time a profound philosopher. I read Poems for an assignment in school," "You went to school?" she all but shouts. I'm taken aback by her outburst.

After the interrogation that day, fuck had a grown woman like me craving, but since there was no cock around and no vibrator, I had to use my fingers to oh yeah that's the spot. When I was done with the masturbation, just then on my phone, a notification beeped in on my Facebook. It didn't seem like me receiving my porn, instead, it was a poem from someone with no profile picture or picture on his wall. His username says Mr Romantic and his poem read, I can never look at a drop of dew in a buttercup without beholding shafts of love in the retreats of your eyes In you there is unity; your face and form is a blend of perfect line and contour

Drenched in or dried up bloomed up or withered ‘way, lived for or lived on, sought after or shooed off, rejoiced or rejected, benighted or enlightened, felt close or felt within, sizzled or silenced soothed or sheathed I wonder, “What now?” And you say: “Why? It’s the crystal drops of moments, creating a stream of tales about you and me!”

She asked I suddenly remembered the small poem in the book I have shared with Lea "Think of me, our time might come to an end. In a blink, you might be blind to see me." "I am on the brink of the cliff, can you catch me? I am shrinking, will you see me?" "In a wink, there's only one eye. In a heart, there's only one side" I haven't given attention to it but, it did affect me. Little did I know, it was the end

“Oh, this is nothing,’’ I whispered to myself before walking off to the opposite direction happily, one unhappy moment can not undo and outweigh all the good time and memories that we had created together, that was just impossible. The bell rung and I rushed off to English class, the teacher asked everyone to write a poem down as she went round and I couldn’t seize the moment better, this was my chance to outshine everyone. Ye god of beauty, Ooh Israelite god lost in earth Ye is full of walking metaphors and perfections A breath oozes love and makes beautiful flowers to blush Like a virgin caught in a midnight dance with bachelors Thou eyes glow like molten lave and hot coals, healing broken

Arrogance befit no man for whatever we have today, won’t be buried with us tomorrow. ~Humeyra. HAMDAN’S P.O.V The last messages I got from Humeyra really messed me up. I didn’t know that I meant so much to her that my death would affect her as much as she said. The poem she wrote to me still lingers in my mind as I recall my heart beating to every word that her poetry entailed. The poem goes as follows:

Her every move went noticed by him. She stared into the river, wondering if it was a good idea, what she was about to do. Her breathing was rapid, she could hear it in her ears, till the was only thing she could hear was the fast hammering in her chest. The rain drops drenched her from her hair to her vans. She was tired of it all, tired of humanity, tired of trying. She wanted peace and if the dark, scary looking waters would give her that, then so be it. She wasn't going to back out now, it was too late for that.

After a moment of silence, I spoke softly, "From the moment you deceived me and underestimated me, there has been no future for us, only a dead end." Hearing my words, Linda completely deflated. She crouched down, trembling, and hugged her head. Her hair tangled in her fingers as she sobbed on and off. I walked out straight ahead, facing the setting sun, never looking back. The evening breeze rustled by, taking with it the fourteen years of memories. In the days to come, the road ahead would always guide me towards the bright sun of tomorrow.