Instinct poems bring the best collection of short and long instinct poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great instinct rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these instinct poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on instinct are here for you.
I had a chance meeting with a quiet fellow No, we did not meet Didn’t even share a breath Unsure if it was male, female or hermaphrodite Still it was unlooked for Rising in a predawn hour, ready for the
Sixth sense, a magical phenomena, a super natural phenomena, a gift bestowed upon some people by the Supreme Lord. Each and everyone has got sixth sense; Only those who are spiritually connected to God, Experience the direct perception of truth.
life without literature, is like life without meaning, like a jellyfish with no sting, like a lion that can’t roar, like a frog that can’t leap, like a wolf without instinct, like a snake without venom, like a falcon without
Love is a powerful thirst, The basic chemistry, Promoting feelings Of a survival instinct. It has many guises, With emotional variations, Intimacy of passion, In a deep bond. Often one-sided commitment, Always arriving unbidden, Without passion, a mere dedication, That
There are three kinds of love, Love that tests you, Love that loves you, Love that doesn’t love you back. The love that tests you, doesn’t conquer, it leads you, to the unfathomable galaxies, most of them are imaginary, where
A miserable hospital scene, with shouts and painful sobs, With fractures, wounds and injuries of various calamities, And my friend, one among them, cancerous, with no hope, Not weeping, but talking and laughing, as he was, years back, In our
Atlantic City, not a place but the fragment Of a memory that lights up bright and garish In the starless night when day is done When ragged dreams arise from murky beds Beneath the waves washing up like seaweed On
Dwelling above Lake Louise is a young Alpha mountain goat who got run out of his pack for trying to take control away from the senior Alpha mountain goat. Young Alpha mountain goat is a feisty and shaggy beast. Fearless!
Waiting under the opaque moon a primeval instinct takes over you and you start arriving. A black bone renders the ash on your forehead and you complete the circle – reaching childhood; you start climbing the ladder, for instantaneous release.
These sleazy intentions seem to kill more than those so-called “reported” serial orgasms. To say, -off the record- that you give me both… feels very disturbingly corrupt yet thats not why you see me blushing. can this burning betrayal flesh
A starfish was in my glass. You blame the moon of brutality while moondust had misled the ocean. Darkhole was ejecting the stars. An animal instinct sparts the bullet like supernova. Black dwarf crop up around the light house for
As the ink flows and the heart glows, While your words rejoice in an enormous light, How do you come up with another set of questions? And still have a peaceful plight.. Trust your instinct within, Feed your fire, fuel
A felled tear reflects the rainbow. I wait for the night. Moon had promised an audience. Yes, I will sit beside the moon, will tell the woes of earth, uncomplaining: the heat, the dust, the life needles and expressionless faces
That tribal instinct sits in the denial. Words fly in fog carrying absurd meanings. I was ready for the impeachment. Like a pinned butterfly you lived several times, repeating a dialogue on a mindless thought. From nothing to nothingness, you
The day I realised that I’m just like everyone else. Clarity. I spent all my time thinking that I was different, unusual. [Apparently] I thought differently to everyone else. [I] Wanted, needed different things. Craved isolation. Solitude. Peace. Contentment. Simplicity
There is a certain feeling that arrives soon as the thought approaches. A sort of dream like feeling that comes to take over what ever mood, What ever presence that is shallowly felt. In truth it’s the best part of
Caught in state perplexity and direction being sought Quandaries are encrypted with resolves distraught Let core instinct lead on any results don’t expect Oppress visible emotions sane logic try not dissect It may seem on contrary but winds get to
It’s 9:00 on a Saturday, I’m at my PC, wasting my life, Surrounded by empty snack packets, And by the door is an empty pizza box. Life couldn’t be better. Bzzz… A noise. Punctuating my silence, my fixation with my
It is autumn grapes are bleeding. The orange color seeps into your eyes. Will you shut the green lids? You, start reading backward. Atavistic instinct to dig up the severed hands? Your house, died in the flower bed. Seeds were
Humans are animals, same as the rest. We sprung up from the same womb as all animals do. What makes us different is what’s in our heads? We think, we plan, we build, we progress. Human minds have grown to
A tribal instinct stops the nemesis: Spraying the blood-soaked, small foot prints on my chest; unlocking, I accept myself. Why contained anger of awesome ache over the periphery? Through the atrophied, black limbs – an elite infusion of trespassing knowledge?
Amidst of delusional notions for the inexplicable to reveal Beginning to be rummaged for the very cause of ordeal Dilemmas often encrypted with multitude of resolves Ones where you’re nucleus around which it all revolves Blinded by agitated tenacity improbable
Let the mourner be Let the grief burst forth overflow the barricades snap the cords asunder rise from the depths of the Being Let the mourner be Let him throw open the floodgates of sorrow weeping is but natural for
There is a river by the mountains, Covered by the deep dark forest. There is a river by the mountains, Where tired travellers take rest. There is a river by the mountains, Which flows like a lonely soul. There is
Her contemplation is blue, like Monalisa’s portrait; That smilingly caresses with her latent tears. Nobody knows, When She cravingly sobs and; Where she wishfully cries; And who knows? When, she’d sacrifice her next smile; Her every smile in love. Her
Dear someone, somewhere soon the presence of the breath you inhale would always be too far away to reach and the smell of your perfume or eau de perfume or eau de toilette or even the way she reads the
Frantic screams leap from her A symphony of worship and bitter memories mingling lingering in her mind Pink skin kissed by the summer sun turns purple under her dress as she sleeps, dreaming of her nightmare, her love Drunk on
At a liquid time flowing between two visions, Before we imprisoned our breaths inside cages of a calendar, Before bird feathers fell down into inkwells, Before we covered our dead with an elegy and a confusion written on papyrus leaves
You sweet little fairy, Why are you so angry? Why don’t you speak? Why is your rage on the peak? Why don’t you smile? You want my mobile! You flying butterfly, Why do you cry? Don’t waste these pearls, Like
With my solitude, glancing the dark skies, I’ll find no one worthy who can hear my cries … So many bright faces I’ll see, still there will be gloom, With the thought of not seeing your face, my days won’t