Feminity poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of feminity poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on feminity are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
I stepped up high, kept enhancing. Got stifled, sat for a while. My strength got abducted, sucked the truth. Abominable insights attacked, kicked off this foe. When it came to abdicate, I rinsed myself with willpower. Indisputably it was hard,
A moment of pause was needed in the eerie lull after the gathering of dreams, to enter the corridor of voices. We stopped looking through our tongues, across the bitterness of burning river, after the mud in our eyes. The
Blessed by a firm, wealthy and loving family You went through trials, hardships and burden… You married young hoping for happiness… You yearned for love and faith… You didn’t trouble anyone… You did them all alone… Faith was what you
How wonderfully great it is to be human, This phenomenal thinking godlike specie, With the potential to explore the universe Yet with intentions of being mostly sleazy. Living in a garden of land, water, and sky, A living vessel so
Was it necessary to see, what you wanted me to see, when I was keeping open my wound to hear the unheard scream? What was that which was getting in air? A little disjointed time, asking peace for the land,
Speak! My love to tell of how, this arc of circled light Might break upon darkness to dawn with unrequited might. Despair! Rides upon the night, unseen, unfelt, rich with life Through unwanted correspondence pain cuts with a knife To
BUS RiDES AND ORDEALS It’s the long rides from the small towns to the city. The mesmerizing sceneries of the trip taking the bus on the uneven roads, Sometimes,unpaved with no asphalt and the road lay carpeted with small rocks
Coming face to face with hemlock you are not able to rain in the animal and start climbing the temperamental tree. Fathered by innocence of violence on the name of war, when were you going to kill? Your own progency?
Wind prowled. You had a hornet’s sting buried half in your hand. Anaphylactic shock. Translates into night of terror. You hesitate to smile. Midnight blues. You cannot count the stars. Pesky. Stories spread about moon’s pink thighs. An ode to
Have you heard the skinny on Lenny Mangini? This fellow dreamed of a yellow Lamborghini And the good life of more, much and plenty, But Lenny’s pockets lacked any profits or pennies. Plagued by malaise and chronic sickness, Two failed
What shall I say to those with pride who too live at the edge with their backs against the fact! Just because you are hurt it doesn’t mean you will become violent! Just because you are shut it doesn’t mean
Something ominous and undefined, illustrative and versatile. Something ambiguous, and something so subtle it hardly exists. Almost is all these things and more. It occupies life around its every corner. It is the grey between the blacks and whites, The
Maybe, just maybe, love is not a forever thing you know? Maybe it is just an evening spent taking crowded trains to unknown stations figuring announcements in foreign languages and wandering walks through dilapidated bylanes full of squishy muck and
The myopic tongues of tall trees, going downhill to find the roots of four-letter words of dead, unspoken, but sung in dark. They had come out of the skin. River was flowing on emotional track, with heavy eyelids. Father said,
The wait begins adorned with symbols for shadow to fall between hope and pretension. The moon will talk when the dew returns and clouds are hiding. He will come in a black cloak for a final assault with broken promises.
What happened to the dandies Those gentlemen of the grandest Culture Destroyers of dreaded boundaries Mockers of meaningless morality Inquisitors of a profound lack of imagination Guardians of good taste Messengers of modernity What happened to those 19th century hipsters
Cuckoo when I imitate your voice, You think it’s a rival who may trap your spouse, Don’t you trust she loves you, only you, How can anyone kidnap your spouse. I want to learn how a beloved is called In
There comes a time when my frustration scales On seeing the heap of trash that smoothly trail Along with me, in my about to explode handbag, So much unwanted stuff, no time to clean, compelled to drag. So I start
We certainly want to expose The Best side of ourselves To the public To our families and friends To our spouses. We certainly don’t want To let the dark thoughts and Dark desires see The Light of Day. We suppress
When you ripped my mind and watched the fragments fly up around all over, I wonder how the frozen weightlessness of my memories of our past made you feel. Smiling, I let you go, while you still tried to melt
Dig a hole and shout As death and destruction wage an exemplary war. Soft stranded hair Wailing waves Lead floating bodies astray. Who would cry for you my child? Who remembers the name with the guttural abyss? Who would cry
From the dizzy heights of my blind, blind love, From the darkest abyss of my sins, From the broken shards of your words that hurt, From the silence throbbing madly in my ears, From the rotten skin that I’ve been
Two hearts beat for each other The bodies come closer By an invisible tether Inches apart yet miles deep Never letting the other weep No regret No expectations Never will fret No calculations He will stay She will support Through
A purple umbrella What once blocked the rain Now catches the opportunity A purple umbrella What protected me from discomfort Now prevents puddles A purple umbrella The comfort of not being wet Has been exchanged for the freedom to breath
The soft-spoken man, and the twinkle in his eyes. The exuberance he contains, is incongruous with his seemingly frail body. His diligent yoga practice; his sincere enthusiasm, about the fruit diet; the radiance with which, he undergoes radiation; and his
Liars eyes, reptile conscience, Forked tongue whispers, secret heart. Your fire, echoes of broken promises, Far gone is all that which we are. Ice berg, the ruination, Your words all begin to disintegrate. My words are now a termination; No
The only big struggle Is for money bristle Finishes like a bubble When we see Sin puddle. Is this so thing doddle? Actually it is a circle Vicious; none to fiddle As it makes one nuzzle In their cozy castle.