Anthropologist poems bring the best collection of short and long anthropologist poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great anthropologist rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these anthropologist poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on anthropologist are here for you.
The anthropologist came a great distance to observe and study the recently discovered subjects. Nothing was know about them Nothing at all. The anthropologist was anxious to get to work to set up the study. The work would be intense
On your dark face smile does not spread like a butterfly. Most reticent I had been, It was very difficult to give, and very painful to take. You wanted to be noticed, and I had a tryst with uncharted path.
In days when we have thousands of distractions It’s hard to maintain the interaction Between two people who are having fun, Who want to have relationship of number one. However in the age of modern era We have addiction of
Eight kisses of death and I am alive My chest is still bleeding Come brother, come, stitch my wounds. What shall we believe, rebirth or life after death? Both are study of wasteland. To speak through angels is difficult these
The absent moon in a tea cup without milk. Lips reaching moon like a reprimand. A spider’s kiss. Unmothered story, contempt untitled: Surface-tension. The speed of space in motion like winter smoke. The sun buried the snow in your eyes.
Path taken, not the end, End taken, not a real road to travel, The path taken, not the best, Change the path, again, Darkness rings the bell again, The light from the lighthouse missing again, The caravan goes again, Path
It all seems important until someone doesn’t remember the squabbling plans of a coven of third grade girls to torment a classmate each with a thick red pencil sharpened for poking each put together as glossy as a nine-year old
You are my inseparable love that always accompanies my shadow everywhere I hang about Your are dazzling halo of love that spreads fragrance of warm feelings and emotions You are my succulent and luscious holy beloved who is always and
You turned your back on me today didn’t even have the guts to say, Cast out like a homeless person Only teaching me one more lesson. I was slowly getting my life back Seeing me fight barriers and tears, Finding
He was walking on a highway, Many cars moving fast, stopped, Offered him a lift, But he did not agree, It was too hot, The sun was burning, But he was walking. In the rains, Lightning killed his beloved, He
Honeymoon with history was over. A two headed snake was sitting on a coin of leather in grass. Blue tongued jewel was going to serve the enormity of destination. Disquietingly, decomposed relics were coming out of the rubble. Coil of
Of all things sentimental. She came through the door wearing a suit of armor. The door closed behind her with a rattle and tick of swaying arms. With rust around her eyes she longed to be melted down. A drop
Somewhere and somehow, how and where I don’t know. But from ‘twinkle twinkle little star’, to the melody’a thing of beauty is a joy forever’we grow up. The past 15 years can be compared to the life of the ‘Brook’.
His dress impressed him like naïve Though he strongly reflected the native Only a half dhoti and a shawl he wore But his simple dress spoke more It was the dress of an Indian peasant Though he emerged as more
After lifting the fingerprints of bloodbath a bushfire starts, engulfing contradictions, the gulf between erosion of truth and survivors appears widening. Tiny ants smell blood, exfoliation begins, from nameless earth for the exodus of barefoot, the epic of tragedy, something
The hurt begins to move and meets in a funeral procession. For aging fireworks this was the last chance, but lake had dried up. There was no fall tonight of the moon All the stars had gone for a memorial
Here are some things that make me smile My lip corners upturn when these come into mind Amazing as the rainbow stained glass tiles And also simple as a little bird’s first flight Try to think of a refreshing, blazing
Candle light, candle glow, inner sight, will to know, healing light surround me now, relieve my Spirit’s darkest vow. I am the Earth, centered and strong, I am the vessel for good and wrong, the human soul roots grow deep
Her arm was left out the window all night clamped at the pit which throbbed her heart hammering to do its job straining for the tiny capillaries going blue about the nail beds her arm flapped on the growing wind
Money too much, children’s laughter; Fall apart beneath the moonlight. Make me cry tears of blood, ever after; I think I want to die tonight. Dog bite scar puts pain to skin; Leave it out and let me in. Kiss
Let it remain ovarian pure. After strangulation the truth, for hypoxic euphoria. Flies in your face the dirt, the denial, the terracotta of superposition of speech, hiding self-interest. Blackened Crozier for wrinkled crotch, drops the ashes of love on unopened
Moments of pain, moments of peace Moments of space that I would seize If I could just have a moment or two I would love to spend those moments with you Moments of despair, moments of hope Moments of faith
She stood on the lowest rung of the ladder Bereft of all good things in life. Her state of existence was conditioned by the divide That created a gulf between the haves and have-nots. The gulf showed no sign of
The soft ticking Of several coasting bicycles Fills the streets. Kaleidoscope streetlamps Dance their light down to the pavement Through fingered trees. I almost wish cobblestones Lined the street. That way we could put our feet on my house And
Give me some time to live, with the possibility of oscillating between temporal and spiritual feel. I have already exhausted my age behind the spiked doors. I was longing to meet myself today, to find the throw back. Which of
Right on top, you were inching slowly. United in hate they were tracking you. Trespassing the epochs you want to go back in stone age to retrace the steps of a homeless sapiens. In the brown desert of high hunches
This is an account of an incident unexplained, Many say to a phenomenon supernatural it pertained. For no one can answer what happened that evening, When it was dark and the moon was barely shining. A loud cry had resonated
The world slows down. That’s a good thing. Priorities change, also good. The rat race fades into memory. It’s now time to appreciate things. Let the next generation battle to climb the ladder, keep their heads above water. Time for
Sitting here in this red velvet room overlooking the sea…candlelight strikes the piano keys and like a tiger on the run here I go again moving in for the kill casting another magic spell on you by force of will…can’t