Brothel poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of brothel poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on brothel are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Brothel It was a street of ecstasy walked through by me whispering to others the oldest tales of body and lust every room of mine swinging from green to red as the confessions of sperm counts splashed the stories over
My name is Richa… Does it really matter?! It could’ve been Mala …Seema…Sita..Nirbhaya or even Chabili.. In the end I would’ve been married to a much older man.. or abandoned after impregnating in a forest.. I wash utensils …clean floors..
The vagaries of life had shattered me down, Made me a coercive slave, submitting to dealers’ erotic frown, But I felt those moments with an absconding pain, As you came to, my life of lame. Your night of birth was
Beyond the sex he was sleepwalking in shame hiding his faith ingloriously. A poacher in harem of politics, where you stack the hidden virility for killing the money. A single mate must die making love on screen in the vicinity
Will the ghosts ever lie down and rest they rose from the anguish of the soul in an instant of morbid pain and they have kept him haunted. He walks like a zombie trying to escape the wrath they inflict
In the turbid brooding skies, And restive trees beneath, In the innards of my eyes, And in those shadows fleet, you are. In the scented mountain breeze, And the trembling blades of grass, Where the mist clad mountains coalesce, And
The thought that faith requires That one should wait his call When of Heaven aspires Intimidates my soul The fear that stalks my heart Exacts toll on my mirth As doubt would not depart It undermines my worth My confidence
No matter the ups and downs, Or the criss-crossing silver lines With the shadows- The clash of words and images And the confusions that reign; All drown when the notes play. Fade away when the chords resonate- With lyrics so
They say the things that finally break you, Are the words stuck in your throat. And she has years of thoughts not uttered, Crammed in the pockets of her coat. A whispher among a word, That’s learnt only to speak.
Amidst the terrene of the sparkling stars Under the spell of the mesmerizing shadow of the moon The restless movement of the echoing aqua The illusory innocence of the woods The whole realm and the whole span is lost (in
Haven’t I told you my eyes, To refrain yourself from searching for her everyday? You captured every laugh and every smiles with each blink, Still strive to have a glimpse! Haven’t you heard me my ears, When I told you
Scary monster with big specs, A bald head and long legs. Same two shirts at alternate days, A dirty nose and an unwashed face. Not introduced himself with his true name, Teaching in class which is untamed. He speaks English
Instead of pain sublime in body of death and bracing a hailstorm of bullets you embrace a white phosphorus to burn for whole life, as a reminder of collective suicide. Like my lost children I am collecting the words to
How to begin the journey of truth? it was moving away from all paths. No concrete answers were there, questions loomed large, a moaning confusion reigned. I moved inward, to open the door, I had to talk to my poems.
I knew, you will come tonight, the nature’s fury , sand storm, dusty wind….. you came with rain, touched my hand like a queen… In my two eyes, moist clouds filled with rain…… tears and tears, rolling down…… you touched
Drifting high on a gentle breeze and grazing the tops of lofty trees, watching below, all the people move but there’s nothing left, up here, to prove. Floating higher and into the clouds, the sultry silence so deafeningly loud. Throbbing
Retrieving a book from the calmness of it’s nook Opening to illustrated pages to be read by children of all ages As the pages were turned, one by one An image soon appeared, as bright as the sun There before
I observe the falcon His piercing stare keeping watch upon the land Patiently waiting for his peasant prey to begin their greedful harvest I observe the falcon Leaping from his perch, careening through the skies He is lightning, cutting through
He went under pile of words to tie the thread of understanding but was stoned to death. They put the piglets in liquid nitrogen for future generations to study. The point of departure had come. Navel-gazing was the best pastime
Well and here I am in New York City Looking like I just stepped out of Vogue And the confidence I display screams GQ In these and those studio photos and Many high fashion magazines then it’s off To Hollywood
I have something say, but fear, not dare, blood runs cold and I feel a Chill. If only some could understand how we feel, For the consequences of a confession we had to reveal, And the situations that we have
hand the colour of sand tries to bury itself into the concrete as if it were sand the grey slab lumped is not going to lie though, tonight, he will lie on it under corrugated pre-creased sheets the bumps a
1,000 memories come rushing at me, when I hear the melody and feel the beat of the drums. When I hear the poetry, and the love within the lyrics… when the guitar is being strummed. For anyone else, it’s just
Indeed if I play the victim can’t feign but it’s a fact Balance forever skewed short changed not exact Deprived of a fair share in an equitable level field In situations near similar had always but me yield Moments utter
Let it be, a dawn prayer, dripping with fantasy intercepting the strip-search of soul tempting a mad psyche. The sleeping volcano was going to celebrate, put the sign on. Perfectly shineless hands will raise the banner to donate kidneys, eyes
Watch the people. They are changing right in front of our eyes. Slowly, incrementally, they’re evolving becoming something else, something more, something different. A new paradigm is emerging. Not to many years ago people walked down the street looking straight
Many of us will not experience the fabulous life, while a select few have heaven on earth, the gleam,the glamour we see on tv seems not right, when most live their lives like they are cursed, the rich stay rich
With endless poverty gleaming in their eyes, Dreams, desires and will to live; Everything has faded to get fled, In a beggar; a living dead, A zombie on the streets. With an affirmative urge in hesitation, Cohesively willing to die
Don’t cut your wings off Don’t let yourself fall down And If you fall, make sure you keep your head up. Learn how to smile, Learn when to cry Don’t feel humiliated, Be persistent, and be strong. You might stumble