Best İnnocence Poems

TURNING and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
...

Never until the mankind making
Bird beast and flower
Fathering and all humbling darkness
Tells with silence the last light breaking
...

Ere the birth of my life, if I wished it or no
No question was asked me--it could not be so !
If the life was the question, a thing sent to try
And to live on be YES; what can NO be ? to die.
...

Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.
...

Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever!
Let the bell toll!- a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river;
And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?- weep now or nevermore!
See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore!
...

Neither clown nor child nor black
nor white but verticle
and a questioning innocence
dressed in night and snow:
...

Somewhere, sometime, you were Wounded
Maybe as early as infancy when you were denied
All the essentials of the bonding experience
Perhaps the wounds were inflicted
...

Help for a patriot distressed, a spotless spirit hurt,
Help for an honourable clan sore trampled in the dirt!
From Queenstown Bay to Donegal, O listen to my song,
The honourable gentlemen have suffered grievous wrong.
...

Love and harmony combine,
And round our souls entwine
While thy branches mix with mine,
And our roots together join.
...

History has to live with what was here,
clutching and close to fumbling all we had--
it is so dull and gruesome how we die,
unlike writing, life never finishes.
...

I remember
vividly those serene eyes,
shining bright,
emotion in them
...

Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deny'st me is;
It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea, our two bloods mingled be;
...

Ware, nor of good nor ill, what aim hath act?
Without its climax, death, what savour hath
Life? an impeccable machine, exact
He paces an inane and pointless path
...

ONCE more the storm is howling, and half hid
Under this cradle-hood and coverlid
My child sleeps on. There is no obstacle
But Gregory's wood and one bare hill
Whereby the haystack- and roof-levelling wind.
...

This, no song of an ingénue,
This, no ballad of innocence;
This, the rhyme of a lady who
Followed ever her natural bents.
...

A pretty girl
is like a simile
and vice-a-versa
so I'd say
...

For Morn, my dome of blue,
For Meadows, green and gay,
And Birds who love the twilight of the leaves,
Let Jesus keep me joyful when I pray.
...

oh...masters of the sky
i am a goddess who waits
a lady who speaks
ambassadress of friendship...
...

A lot of praise and admiration I got when I was full of innocence
Now, I am under crook clumsy seductive adolescence.
Keeping head straight, running life difficult a lot
Sensing the senses makes me a bewildered pot.
...

FLOWER god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful,
Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles,
Here I wander in April
Cold, grey-headed; and still to my
...

When Love was born of heavenly line,
What dire intrigues disturbed Cythera's joy!
Till Venus cried, 'A mother's heart is mine;
None but myself shall nurse my boy,'
...

Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part,
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me,
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free.
...

Nothing has changed.
The body is susceptible to pain,
it must eat and breathe air and sleep,
it has thin skin and blood right underneath,
...

Speak of Love and hearts afire soft unlayered mysteries
Bewitching captured enraptured, joyous or tortured souls
On the path one takes in every life since guiless Eve
seduced trusting Adam and lost innocence was replaced
...

Sleeping beside you I dreamt
I woke beside you;
Waking beside you
I thought I was dreaming.
...

Secret from the river
Carried by the endless waves
Flowing to return to the sea
And then hide in the ocean depth
...

When to the garden of untroubled thought
I came of late, and saw the open door,
And wished again to enter, and explore
The sweet, wild ways with stainless bloom inwrought,
...

Televised news turns
a half-used day into
a waste of desolation.
If nothing wondrous preceded
the catastrophic announcements,
...

Stared at you
with innocence of doe
the oceanic
serenity of eyes
...

You came into my life
When I was so young
You witnessed my growing up
Shared my innocence
...

Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air
In his own ground.
...

We will make our meek adjustments,
Contented with such random consolations
As the wind deposits
In slithered and too ample pockets.
...

Ah me! conceiv'd in sin, and born in sorrow,
A nothing, here to day, but gone to morrow,
Whose mean beginning, blushing can't reveal,
...

There's in my mind a woman
of innocence, unadorned but

fair-featured and smelling of
...

Innocence?
In a sense.
In no sense!
...

In death there is beauty
We will sleep like angels
With the tranquility of innocence
...

La courbe de tes yeux fait le tour de mon coeur,
Un rond de danse et de douceur,
Auréole du temps, berceau nocturne et sûr,
Et si je ne sais plus tout ce que j'ai vécu
...

Green leaves tap at my window like lost souls.
I trace their signatures upon the glass.
Dawn is only a few quatrains away.
I memorize the fragrance of spring rain.
...

.
Many contend spring is life at her best
when everything is warm and wonderful
and we feel so heart-bright and full of zest
...

Time reels though moments in seconds
everything earthly has its own rise and fall
heaving mysteries encored within
as truth dissipates in direction of reality
...

Spanish

Fuera, la noche en veste de tragedia solloza
Como una enorme viuda pegada a mis cristales.
...

Ere the birth of my life, if I wished it or no
No question was asked me--it could not be so !
If the life was the question, a thing sent to try
And to live on be YES; what can NO be ? to die.
...

cruelty conquers light of earthly living
by tools of narrow endings of mortality
devours the sweet breath of air
humanism is still a mockery by greed
...

A flower grew out of the ground
A tiny flower from the dirt
A tiny living soul from underground
A baby crawling from the dirt
...

So it is the duty of the artist to discourage all traces of shame
To extend all boundaries
To fog them in right over the plate
To kill only what is ridiculous
...

THE true faith discovered was
When painted panel, statuary.
Glass-mosaic, window-glass,
...

Before all the wondrous shows of the widespread space around him, what living, sentient thing loves not the all-joyous light -- with its colors, its rays and undulations, its gentle omnipresence in the form of the wakening Day? The giant-world of the unresting constellations inhales it as the innermost soul of life, and floats dancing in its blue flood -- the sparkling, ever-tranquil stone, the thoughtful, imbibing plant, and the wild, burning multiform beast inhales it -- but more than all, the lordly stranger with the sense-filled eyes, the swaying walk, and the sweetly closed, melodious lips. Like a king over earthly nature, it rouses every force to countless transformations, binds and unbinds innumerable alliances, hangs its heavenly form around every earthly substance. -- Its presence alone reveals the marvelous splendor of the kingdoms of the world.

Aside I turn to the holy, unspeakable, mysterious Night. Afar lies the world -- sunk in a deep grave -- waste and lonely is its place. In the chords of the bosom blows a deep sadness. I am ready to sink away in drops of dew, and mingle with the ashes. -- The distances of memory, the wishes of youth, the dreams of childhood, the brief joys and vain hopes of a whole long life, arise in gray garments, like an evening vapor after the sunset. In other regions the light has pitched its joyous tents. What if it should never return to its children, who wait for it with the faith of innocence?
...

Fresh fields and woods! the Earth's fair face,
God's foot-stool, and man's dwelling-place.
I ask not why the first Believer
Did love to be a country liver?
...

I.
How happy he, who free from care
The rage of courts, and noise of towns;
Contented breaths his native air,
...

I was visibly moved and perturbed
Out of gear completely and disturbed
Mind so much occupied and probed,
Hair straight up as if not combed,
...

Love is, listening to her rhythmic heartbeats
Imagining her assurances with every beat.
Love is, touching her like the softest feather,
Going to sleep touching together.
...

One of a kind this cheerful sound
A child's laughter wherever it's found
From the giggling of a baby in a playpen
To the laughter of a toddler again and again
...

Beyond the tattered window pane,
A gruesome, dominant world lies.
Facing the broken reflection of mine,
In the broken pane I meet my eyes…
...

Back in time
In everything we shared
Wishes, prayers and dreams
I revisit our sealed promises
...

Love is no more.
It died as the mind dies: the pure desire
Relinquishing the blissful form it wore,
The ample joy and clarity expire.
...

Union with the traitor and foe of God
Is hard to set right and remedy,
As in all times, places and affairs
The hellish foes set their snares.
...

broken, the porcelain doll is laying
tossed aside, used and shattered.
her once fair perfect porcelain skin
now cracked and crimson stained
...

Spanish

La luna es pálida y triste, la luna es exangüe y yerta.
La media luna figúraseme un suave perfil de muerta…
...

O FRIEND! I know not which way I must look
   For comfort, being, as I am, opprest,
   To think that now our life is only drest
For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook,
...

A child is blessed every day
A child is innocent
A child is beautiful gift of god
So never ever hate them for who they are or how they are
...

Take back your coins, King's Councillor. I am of those women you
sent to the forest shrine to decoy the young ascetic who had never
seen a women. I failed in your bidding.
Dimly day was breaking when the hermit boy came to bathe in
...

Looking into my daughter’s eyes I read
Beneath the innocence of morning flesh
Concealed, hintings of death she does not heed.
...

O, once I lov'd a bonnie lass,
Aye, and I love her still;
And whilst that virtue warms my breast
I'll love my handsome Nell.
...

FOR these are sacred fishes all
Who know that lord that is the lord of all;
Come to the brim and nose the friendly hand
That sways and can beshadow all the land.
...

They talk of short-lived pleasure--be it so--
Pain dies as quickly; stern, hard-featured pain
Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go.
The fiercest agonies have shortest reign;
...

Life is a well-written lyric with an uncomposed music.
Death is well-composed music for an unwritten lyric,
All drama starts with life and ends with the death
Both have a distinction of innocence with the grandeur of purity.
...

A day of seeming innocence,
A glorious sun and sky,
And, just above my picket fence,
Black Bonnet passing by.
...

Oft an adults with childish mentality do marriage
With an aim to travel in life’s joyful carriage.
On fate’s tortuous road of uncertainty
With an aim to sing life’s joyous ditty
...

I lay here on this grassy hill
Looking up at the sky
There's a cloud shaped as a daffodil
And a spotted hound up high.
...

In the spring, I arrive as a gentle breeze
With the summer, I have my moods
In the autumn, I am stripping naked the trees
With the winter, my heart is an empty room
...

The boys come home, come home from war,
With quiet eyes for quiet things --
A child, a lamb, a flower, a star,
A bird that softly sings.
...

(For Eduardo Chirinos)

Downstairs I left a candle burning
In its light I'll read a few lines when I return

By the time I returned the candle had burned out
Those few lines had faded like innocence

You walk with me
The way moon walks along with a child sitting in a train window

I stood in the balcony one day
Waved a handkerchief toward the sky

Those who have gone without saying their goodbyes
Will recognize it even from far

In my handkerchief they have left behind their tears
The way early humans left behind their etchings on cave walls

Lyotard said, every sentence is a now
No. Actually it's a memory of now

Every memory is a poem
In our books, the count of the unwritten poems is so much more
...

After the death of our son

Neither the sorrows of afternoon, waiting in the silent house,
Nor the night no sleep relieves, when memory
...

What greater grief
Anguish and despair
Than loss of precious children?
...

Where graced with many a classic spoil
Cam rolls his reverend stream along,
I haste to urge the learned toil
...

Turn on your side and bear the day to me
Beloved, sceptre-struck, immured
In the glass wall of sleep. Slowly
Uncloud the borealis of your eye
...

Senseless...................
Brothers lost -
Cut down in their prime;
...

O meadow lark, so wild and free,
It cannot be, it cannot be,
That men to merchandise your spell
Do close you in a wicker hell!
...

A nation when burns by the terrors in the crowd
By the bloody serial blasts by the killer goons
Yesterday in Bangalore, alas! Today in Ahmedabad
The whole country seems rocked by the horrors
...

Florence of beauty tunes through the joy
Art of blue jingles fledging distant sky silhouetted
what a lone muse intones along moon stuck lily
new born dream expires sprucing the grace of love
...

It seems like Light Years ago
That sweet innocence
Like a flower in the bud
Growing in new existance
...

Mortal - the ungrateful wretch,
Taking all things as one's due
Inflated with incurable pride
Fell-ingrate - unaware
...

Barefoot reality
confusing pages of time

back again
...

The unrelated paragraphs of morning
Are forgotten now; the severed heads of kings
Rot by the misty Thames; the roses of York
And Lancaster are pressed between the leaves
...

They killed a Child to please the Gods
In Earth's young penitence,
And I have bled in that Babe's stead
Because of innocence.
...

^Death Of Innocence

A little girl was playing in the garden 'round her home,
Mischief sparkled in her dark eyes and her curly hair was blond.
...

Softly in the glow of moonlight
`Neath the canopy of stars
There to ponder in the silence -
Still, within the passing hours
...

Those who have touched it or been touched by it
Or brushed by something that the vine has brushed,
Or burning it, have stood where the sly smoke
Has touched them-Know the meaning of its name.
...

In this tradition of hypocrisy,
Rich sea of shams,
Virtue hides behind sanctimony,
Watch dogs are drooling at the prize,
...

Oh! You are a little black boy,
and playing with your small toy.
Oh! You are black from outside,
but your heart and soul are white.
...

...

Treacherous as trap door spiders,
they ambush children's innocence.
"Why is there g h in light? It isn't fair!"
Buddha declared the world illusory
...

it was in those beautiful
cool eyes
the birth of my madness
and an innocence demise
...

cosmic canopy spreads over offspring,
the eternal spring of love and bliss
courses upon the lap of tranquilitry
mother when mothering yet unequalled
...

Because he puts the compromising chart
Of hell before your eyes, you are afraid;
Because he counts the price that you have paid
For innocence, and counts it from the start,
...

sparkling dew cries over blade of grass
redeeming slowly by rays golden
mystery shrouds over green of garden
as dawn remembers art of last night
...

LOVING she is, and tractable, though wild;
And Innocence hath privilege in her
To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes;
...

Here lies, to each her parents' ruth,
Mary, the daughter of their youth;
Yet all heaven's gifts being heaven's due,
...

‘Bunko game’ makes love with ‘confidence trick’
Same they are, but do not know each other
By love do the job fast
As did it ‘back to back’ and ‘end to end’.
...

beauty awes by gleams of light dissipating
earth even riles through ruined faces of crowd
as ruminating gathered hearts ever decadent,
sorrow seems to redounds to joy of heaven
...