Poem about wind
It's blowing, it's cold!
It doesn't help a raincoat, a hat, a scarf, it's strong!
It is so strong that the whole ship is rocking!
Hardworking fishermen work.
They stand on a rocking ship as if they are attached.
On land it's different.
Bunkers are being built.
A few floors underground.
Tons and tons of concrete and iron.
They report that a strong wind is coming.
Everyone is in a panic.
Everyone manages to keep their head alive.
Silence...
The sun is slowly breaking through.
The birds are chirping, calling to each other.
As if nothing had happened.
Every plant, every tree, every flower,
slowly they begin to dance in the breeze.
Everyone is smiling again.
The wind in their hair has now elicited thousands of smiles.
Sailboats are ready to jump in the wind.
Thousands of balloon fans are just waiting for this wind to take off.
Thousands of people have spilled someone's life these seconds to be carried away by the winds.
Spread your arms.
The wind will know the right way.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about scent
Hundreds of different brands are on the shelf.
They cost hundreds of dollars.
You don't know which one to choose.
You try three and then they all smell the same.
The seller offers the latest.
When they see that they can't convince you, then they offer you cheap and so on.
I’m crazy when I get out of the perfumery.
The most beautiful perfumes cost nothing.
There are no sellers to convince you which one to buy.
There is no doubt which one to buy because they cannot be bought.
I'll tell you a secret.
The scent of summer rain is irresistible.
The scent of mowed grass is the most expensive ever.
The scent of pine is the most masculine.
The scent of the sea is the most elegant.
The scent of spring is the finest.
The scents of autumn and winter are the most attractive.
My favorite scent is the scent of walnut leaves and nuts.
These scents are free as I told you.
You just have to indulge and enjoy.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about bottom
I'm sinking.
I sink deeper and deeper.
I only see the abyss.
I have the impression that I am going through all the earth's crust.
I can't wait to hit.
To know it's over.
I imagine a bang.
It echoes in my head.
But I can't fall.
No way to hear that bang.
It's like an eternity.
I have touched the bottom of my life.
I wonder if it's hell.
It shouldn't be.
They say I'm not a bad person.
As soon as others say that,
I believe it is so.
I expect to wake up.
But it's not a dream.
I'm at the bottom.
Sudden silence.
Is silence the bottom?
Is that the way to heaven?
Perhaps it is.
Or perhaps I should get up,
and keep going.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about birthday
Why do we celebrate every birthday?
Maybe we should just celebrate first.
But we celebrate every next one.
Celebrating being older.
Are we celebrating that various health problems await us over the years?
Are we celebrating that we will soon have to call for help to get up from the armchair?
I am confused.
I don't know if I should celebrate my next birthday.
It's nice to celebrate.
I love celebrations!
But celebrations for no reason.
That's how we should celebrate,
not to count the years.
While we are young,
we are rushing to grow.
When we grow up,
we try to be younger.
At least to look younger.
And there is no logic.
Be young while you are young.
You will certainly grow old.
I don't think birthdays are that important.
Sometimes numbers can be burdensome.
It doesn't matter how old we are.
What matters is how we feel.
Happy birthday.
And happy every other day.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about underneath
What is underneath the makeup,
a pretty face,
the bodybuilder's muscles?
What's underneath the tanned skin,
the picture,
and all the beautiful colors?
What's underneath the ads,
the laughter,
and the table?
What's underneath the rug?
There is always something underneath.
True stories about us.
Tough or beautiful.
Is facade hiding something?
It would be nice not to hide.
Is every smile sincere?
It would be nice if it was.
Are the ads accurate or are they misleading us?
Does the picture tell what we really see
or does it send a deeper message?
If it's art, I accept that it can show something deeper.
Is it just a saying to push problems under the table or under the carpet?
Unfortunately, they are pushed!
Powerful machines are the ones that push them.
Underneath.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about joke
I love to hear a good one.
I also love to tell a good one.
I love when it has a point.
I love when I laugh to tears.
I think many times,
"that one was good"
and then I realize it's not a joke.
They say they have introduced visas all over the world.
There is no free travel anymore.
We'll have to wait in lines.
To collect papers.
How much longer will we suffer the old politics?
How much longer will we suffer the old problems?
We want change!
We want new people!
We want new ideas!
We want to travel without limits!
It's a joke, relax.
Yes, joke. 🙂
I was convincing again.🙂
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about stomach
The most demanding.
Not at all patient.
It is dangerous when it is empty.
It has a tolerance threshold,
but very short.
As soon as you overdo it,
can hurt.
You often think about it.
All day long.
Three times a day.
Sometimes more than once.
It can spoil.
Then you have to fix it.
Then follows a diet, a probiotic.
And the toilet is the only salvation. 🙂
Lions and tigers kill when it's empty.
Babies are screaming.
They scream when it's empty,
but they also scream when it's full.
People say that the only thing a man has to do is die.
And to be born naked.
I would add that it must be filled.
Because when it is hungry,
it knows how to be very persistent and nasty.
Stomach.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about his own funeral
Silence.
They talk quietly about him.
He was young.
He loved life.
He had billions.
They are coming slowly.
They leave slowly.
Everyone wears black suits and black glasses.
Some wear to hide tears.
Some wear that no one sees that there are no tears.
There are some who rub their palms.
They secretly calculate how much they will get.
And he...
He turned out to be the smartest.
He climbed to the top of the hill.
And watched his own funeral.
Because of so much money,
he no longer knew who loved him as much.
Does anyone love and respect him at all.
Or they just love his money and his power.
He planned his funeral.
To save himself.
To see who is who.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about touch
I'm talking and I'm silent.
Not a word.
Not a single letter.
And I said the whole sentence.
A hand is enough.
No, I'm not talking about handshake.
I'm talking about what a hand can do.
Amazing feeling.
They told me,
I can't lie.
But I didn't believe it.
Body language.
Warmth.
Security.
Hug.
A magical feeling!
Sometimes a look is enough.
I'm still silent, and I've said it all.
It can be fraternal.
It can be friendly.
It can be love.
Touch.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about a storm
As soon as I arrived it started.
It lasts for 20 years.
It's blowing, and it's not the wind.
It's blowing, and it's not a hurricane.
It's not real and yet it takes away.
You learn to hold on over time.
You learn not to fall over time.
You have the feeling that everything is on your back.
Then comes the real wind.
Then comes the real hurricane.
Everyone is moving away from you.
Everyone is running away.
And you don't mind.
The wind can't do anything to you.
A hurricane can't do anything to you.
You stand and walk on.
When you build everything yourself,
life makes you not feel the real storm.
The storm of life is stronger than the strongest storm.
Keep going, whatever storm comes.
When it passes, you will be stronger.
I know!
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about gambling
I'm not a gambler.
But,
I love to gamble!
Well it's all gambling.
You gamble if you cross the street outside the pedestrian crossing.
You gamble if you don't bring an umbrella when it's cloudy.
You gamble if you don't gamble!
Yes, you gamble if you don't pay for gambling!
Because maybe your numbers come out. 🙂
You gamble if you eat fast food every day!
Yes, you gamble with your life!
Wherever you turn, you gamble.
You gamble even if you don't go to the doctor.
You think it will pass.
You gamble if you think alcohol doesn't kill.
You gamble if you think cigarettes don't kill.
It's all gambling.
Gambling is also when you walk down the street.
You might be struck by lightning.
Gambling is also when you swim calmly,
because you don't know who is swimming under you.
It's all gambling.
So, wait.
My gambling can't kill!
I played two Champions League games.
Maybe I'll win!
Gamble in a sporty way,
because of the adrenaline!
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about balance
The first balance in life is
when you learn to walk.
When you learn to walk,
you learn to run and balance again.
Then you learn to ride a bike.
Then the motor, the car and every time you balance.
Then you balance when you learn to swim.
You also balance when you eat.
You balance every day.
You balance with your friends,
with your wife, with your children.
You balance at work.
You balance as you travel to work.
You balance your whole life.
You go to a mechanic to fix the car.
He says balance the wheels.
Why do you always have to balance?
I wish I could rest my brain
from all the balancing acts.
From everything.
Not to think about anything.
And you?
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about superstition
I believe, I do not believe.
I don't believe, I believe!
I can't believe it.
The black cat crossed your path.
Take 10 steps back.
If you have blue eyes,
don't look the baby in the eyes.
When you see a pregnant woman,
pinch someone next to you.
If you stand on your left foot,
you will not feel well all day.
Well, this is a fairy tale!
We would never have arrived if we had gone 10 steps back for each cat.
People would run away from us.
They would think we were crazy.
Maybe we are.
We just don't know we are.
I don't accept believing in cats.
In blue eyes, pregnant women and left legs.
I'm not superstitious and I'm not afraid.
Caress the cat.
Smile when you see the baby.
Get up on any leg.
And encourage the pregnant woman.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about Bon-Ton
It hid.
It hid behind a shadow.
It is afraid to come out.
It is afraid for a reason.
Few of us respect it.
Few of us use it.
We forgot it existed.
They say new times, new rules.
How is it possible?
How is it possible that we don't take off our hats when we greet a lady?
How is it possible that we no longer give thanks when someone gets up to sit us down?
How is it possible that we no longer give thanks when someone lights a cigarette for us?
How is it possible that there are no more gentlemen?
To pull out a chair.
To hold the coat.
To carry heavy bag.
How?
Where did Bon-Ton go?
Let's find it!
Let's get it back!
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about homeless people
They are almost inaudible.
They are almost invisible.
They are not asking for anything.
They are just there.
Curled up in some cardboard.
And it is cold out there.
I saw two people under the bridge.
They are warming up next to a burning bucket.
I saw another one on the corner of one street,
sleeping on the concrete.
Who are they?
Has anyone ever wondered?
Why are they here?
Why aren't they safe somewhere?
It was cold tonight.
It was cold in the apartment with heating.
And they are on the street.
Maybe one of them didn't survive.
I can't even think.
Some of them are doctors of science.
Some were left with nothing.
Some were evicted by housemates.
Do you think it's enough to give them a cent?
Do you think we did a good job?
We did, but we didn't finish.
We have to do more.
We have to raise the others.
A voice must be heard for them.
For those who ask for nothing,
who are just there.
Together we can win.
Let's fight to the end.
For them, for all the homeless people.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about apology
As if it were a magic word.
The hardest word.
No way to say it.
We often blush before we say it.
Children know that word.
They don't know exactly.
But they struggle not to say it.
As if they have an idea of the weight of that word.
And it is not difficult.
On the contrary.
I really like to say it.
Why don't they like it too?
Is it upbringing?
Is it perhaps fashionable?
It should be the other way around!
Why is not?
Feel free to say sorry.
Ugly words can hurt.
Let's pause before we say an ugly word.
Let's pause for a second.
Instead of ugly word
which is in mind,
let's say that magic word.
Let's apologize.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about justice
I fought today.
It was noisy.
Noisy and lively!
They thought we were arguing.
No, we didn't arguing.
I just expressed my opinion.
I was upset.
But I shouldn't have been upset.
I upset the others.
I shouldn't have done that either.
Justice is at stake.
We must fight for justice.
And they knew it was justice.
But they were upset again.
I believe you have fought at least once.
And fought for justice.
We all know it's not easy.
That's why don't give up.
Fight to the last breath.
Because the sweetest victory is for justice.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about the day after tomorrow
What are you doing tomorrow?
I'm going to a party tomorrow.
I'm going to work tomorrow.
I'm going to the gym tomorrow.
I'm seeing a girl tomorrow.
I'm leaving for tomorrow.
I'm going to buy a present tomorrow.
I'm celebrating my birthday tomorrow.
I'm going fishing tomorrow.
I'm taking the ride tomorrow.
And what if tomorrow doesn't come?
What if tomorrow is that day?
A day of the end of the world.
What if everything disappears?
Do you ever wonder what if?
Some dug canals deep underground.
To survive.
Some made concrete bunkers.
To survive.
But what do we need all this for?
We don't know when that day will be.
We won't even know when it comes
because when it comes it will be too late to hide.
That is why you should live each day as if it were your last.
If your every day is fulfilled,
then let that day happen.
The day after tomorrow.
Our lives are not worth it if we are left alone in the bunker.
So live and live.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about beauty
She invested in herself.
She's been working on herself for months.
She didn't ask how much it cost.
She spent $ 15,000.
Now she has great self-confidence.
Well done, very nice.
Did she have a doctorate in medicine?
No, she's not studying anymore.
She has a new mouth.
They are beautiful.
She lowered her nose.
She is satisfied now.
She also bought breasts.
Only teeth cost $ 5,000.
.......
I'm speechless.
I completely misunderstood everything.
It's like I'm from another planet.
Maybe I am, but I don't know.
My nose is my pride.
She broke hers.
My teeth are sharp, strong.
She took them all out.
She put on metal.
Work on yourself is if you progress.
She cut off her body parts.
Added new parts.
Maybe I'm in a dream?
Beauty is something else now.
It's like I've slept through half my life.
Wake me up if I'm asleep!
No, that's the reality.
Take care of your body,
Watch it inside and out.
It doesn't matter how big your nose is.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about silence
It was supposed to be quiet tonight.
I still can't hear it.
It's hard to hear.
I know why.
It's gone, it's lost.
That's why it's hard to hear.
When you learn to hear it,
when you learn to listen to it,
when you learn to talk like that,
with your mouth shut,
you have learned a dumb language.
No need to talk much.
The less you talk,
the less chance you have of making mistakes.
But where to find it?
I've been hearing it hard lately.
I know why.
They are very loud.
They don't know how to introduce themselves quietly.
There is a lot of noise everywhere.
They are used to winning by shouting.
And it got loud.
So I wonder if we hear it at all.
Let's get it back.
Let's get it back quietly.
Silence.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about thoughts
I like to think.
I think even when I don't think.
I think in advance.
I think back.
I also think of others.
I think I may not think.
I'm wrong.
I tried to shut up.
I keep quiet, I still think.
I can't control my thoughts.
They change themselves.
They say when you learn yoga,
you may not think.
You meditate.
I learned yoga and I still don't know.
I don't know not to think.
I like to think by the sea.
I like to think when it rains.
I like to breathe and think the most.
Thoughts have no boundaries.
With thoughts we can do everything.
Don't stop thinking.
Think positive.
Thoughts are our energy.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about happiness
Why don't we know if we are happy?
Why don't we know what happiness is?
I think we forgot all about happiness.
I don't think we know what happiness is.
What if happiness is all around us?
If happiness is that you exist.
If happiness is that you woke up.
If happiness is the sun.
If happiness is air.
If happiness is water.
If you are lucky enough to have breakfast together.
If you're lucky enough to laugh together.
If you're lucky enough to quarrel.
If you're lucky enough to keep quiet together.
Enough for happiness.
But not.
It is not hapiness.
You don't have millions in your account.
You don't have a garage, a swimming pool.
Happiness is bought.
Happiness lasts while you are liked.
Happiness is to be alone with the phone.
But wait!
They scream.
They seek medical help.
They don't know what to do with millions.
One killed himself.
Others threaten suicide.
So what kind of happiness is that?
I do not understand! 🙂
You understand me, I'm sure,
I'm happy about that!
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about waiting
Waiting.
Waiting is boring.
Or maybe not.
Waiting makes you think of something
so that you don't get bored.
I am waiting now.
I ate all the chocolate while waiting.
If I waited a year,
with chocolate in hand,
I would weigh 150kg.
Waiting puts you to sleep.
Or maybe too much sugar puts me to sleep.
Waiting can also be creative.
I am still waiting.
I am writing a poem about waiting.
There is a saying:
"Whoever waits, will get what they are waiting for."
But one man died while waiting.
He did not get what he was waiting for.
I wouldn't want to wait long.
I am going for a walk.
To burn excess calories from chocolate.
Or find some new theme for the poem.
If you are waiting for something somewhere,
don't wait long.
Decide quickly not to die waiting.
And wait healthy, without chocolate. 😊
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about yes and no
Yes asks No.
No, why are you No?
Why didn't you Yes?
Because you are Yes.
It's boring to always be Yes.
Yes Yes Yes, you always bow and approve.
You don't think too much.
Say at least once out loud No!
Yes, but Yes is a positive answer.
It's nice to share positive energy.
That's right, that is a positive answer.
But the answer is not always correct.
Be strong and say No when it is No.
Yes, but if I say No,
then someone may become sad.
No, it doesn't matter if they get sad.
Yes, it matters, I don't like sadness.
No, you are wrong!
Maybe my No is a positive answer.
Then they will be happy when they understand.
You don't have to say No if it's hard for you.
Just nod your head, that is enough.
Wow, No, you are right.
You taught me how to say No.
Yes, I'm proud of you.
Hey, I said Yes too.
Yes and No realized they couldn't do without each other.
Author: Musician
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about life
Life is a song.
A song is life.
We don't always sing.
Sometimes we sing and cry.
Sometimes we cry softly.
Sometimes we cry with tears.
Tears write the hardest verses.
The hardest and most beautiful.
On soaked paper with tears
there are sincere verses of life.
Sincere verses are harsh.
The truth hurts.
A pure man does not write.
The one who writes is dirty.
But no.
I don't mean the man in the mud.
I mean a dirty soul.
When the soul speaks,
a life song is written by itself.
There is no wisdom.
Just open your soul.
You will also write your life poem.
Mine is different from yours.
Yours is different from theirs.
But it is a life poem.
Good poets become famous after death.
Good poets live after death.
Because they dared to write about life.
Author: Musician
@Dominique I hope you will like it. 😊
Thanks a lot for reading.
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Poem about its Majesty
Amazing scent.
Amazing taste.
Sparkling and bitterness.
Sparkling and sweetness.
Incompatible and yet compatible.
They call it the royal drink.
Each variety is unique.
Some are sour.
Some are sweet.
Some mix to get the magic.
They are different and yet they attract you.
After making love, it is very pleasant.
The older, the better.
Some bottles cost a fortune.
Collectors have their own cellars.
Many study to evaluate it.
One glass a day is health.
They say it flows through the veins.
For everyone's taste.
For everyone's pocket.
It is made according to old recipes.
From well-chosen grape varieties.
Graševina, Prokupac,
Cabernet Sauvignon,
Cabernet Franc,
Cabernet Merlot,
Muscat Hamburg,
Zinfandel, Viognier.
Its Majesty.
Wine.
Author: Musician
Lead image source: unsplash
Thanks a lot for reading.
Poem about rain
It is quiet tonight.
It's so quiet but still audible.
Rain is sliding down the window.
A work of art that lasts only a few seconds.
The next second is another picture.
And so for hours.
It's still quiet.
Although it can be heard leaking down the gutter.
I hear drops.
But I also hear silence.
I like to walk when it falls.
I like to think when it falls.
I like to love when it falls.
It was dirty yesterday.
Red, more brown.
They say sand from the Sahara.
The phenomenon of nature.
Well, yes.
It evaporates.
It rises high.
And it falls again, in a circle.
We can't live without it.
The source of life.
The rain.
Author: Musician
Lead image source: unsplash
Thanks a lot for reading.
Poem about air
It won't be enough.
It won't be enough soon.
They destroy it but breathe it.
They don't have to destroy it.
They do it on purpose.
But they have to breathe it.
So why are they destroying it?
It will disappear.
We will all disappear.
It will disappear as quickly as a lot of beautiful forests.
In the morning it is the cleanest they say. Take a deep breath to feel the freshness.
And that is smog.
Well, they still say it is the smell of winter.
They don't know.
But they know how to destroy.
Thousands of cars emit poison.
Thousands of chimneys emit poison.
How did they allow that?
Just one day to stop all those machines.
One day a year.
Or one day a month.
One day a week.
I vote it to be Sunday.
A day to shut down all the machines!
Think deeply.
Think with full lungs.
Author: Musician
Lead image source: unsplash
Thanks a lot for reading.
Poem about future
They write.
They all write.
Poets write.
Composers write.
But they often write about the past.
It is easy to write about the past when it is over.
You know what happened.
You know how it happened.
You know the end!
And the future?
I am not afraid of the future.
I wouldn't want to know what it is like.
It wouldn't be interesting.
It wouldn't be exciting.
We would all wait for that day.
This way we don't know what day it is.
That is what I definitely want.
I don't want to know anything!
And what I certainly want is that I don't want to.
I don't want anyone to shape our future.
I don't want anyone to draw our future.
To ruin our dreams.
You don't want that either.
I know you don't!
Author: Musician
Lead image source: unsplash
Thanks a lot for reading.
Poem about snake
Snake.
Cold, smooth skin.
Fast, dangerous!
Is it really dangerous?
There are a lot of different snakes.
Cobra? It's not!
Smuk? It's not!
Hinge? It's not!
So which snake is dangerous?
Are you scared of snakes?
I do not!
Don't touch it, it won't touch you.
They attack when you scare them.
They attack when defending cubs.
So what's the problem?
A man is a snake? Yes!
Correct answer.
Man attacks worse than a snake.
How can a man be a snake?
Nothing is clear to me!
So easy.
One man often hurts another man.
Consciously or unconsciously,
but hurts.
Then you find yourself wanting to be bitten by the most venomous snake.
It will be easier somehow. 🙂
Beware of poisonous people.
And guard the snakes.
Without them, there is no survival in the circle of the chain of nature.
Author: Musician
Lead image source: unsplash
Thanks a lot for reading.
@Musician
