Intimacy poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of intimacy poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on intimacy are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Love Insanity It has no beginning, no end either Only an intrigue the ‘is’ its synonym She laughs on that state of mine Become mischievous, I will turn over new leaf Limit!That even reason seeks its foot prints For prostration
Body sat at desk, Huddled over a book. Eyes fixated on the page in front of you Finger twirling through your hair. The same eyes that often wander my body, Hands that get tangled in my skin. I watch the
This fathomless free fall of hollowness This unceasing relentless devouring of happiness May it cut so meaningfully deep…. as deep as my heart once sang. For the wounds reflect an unyielding hope, untouchable memories, cherished moments. Ascent and descent ..
Lighter than a feather, when weighed on you though, never heavier, Rain in the storm, blown away I’m torn, open up, it’s not like the norm Adored but not shown, praises that become worn, Show me the love, where’s the
The Bygone years seldom had couple breaking up That was the period when intimacy meant sex and the couple had plenty of it too with off springs springing up too often having hardly a year gap between them Lady was
Having to forget you is a misconception. I understand that things happen and these things we often have no control over. Consequence. Watching the boat leave it’s pier is one of the most beautiful things. My honest opinion. The beginning
Eyes do speak. It’s funny how they perceive the things around. The broken conversations heard by fully complexed ears. I believed that I’d be ok. The conclusions that eyes draw. Never making sense of the words heard. I believed it
Sat outside beneath a starry sky, with a favourite glass of wine With the silver glow of moonlight, oblivious of time Your hand is held in mine, the special intimacy of touch Just sharing conversation, times like this I love
Hazel eyes and long curls of chocolate hair, these were just what caught me first. Clean skin, unspoiled, never marred by the crooked calloused hands of man. She was and always will be the paragon of beauty, and to only
My boo boo what have we become, I’m so depressed an all alone. I’m desperate and somewhat oppressed, What’s a man to do when he’s distressed. Try to touch you but to no avail, All my efforts are quickly unrailed.
Drowned in unclogged arteries: thoughts. I am going to release a swarm of bees. It was your dark hour. A father sits outside your body to collect the stings. A restive finger on a blue gun invites the ghosts to
(1) The door; out of it there is everything; Flags and noise, traffic policemen, temptation apples, toothy eyes, ears calculating breath bangs, tinny moon counting steps, cheeks flowering with love ready to pass to oblivion, flattering choruses, cola tans, gay
Listen that delicate one at the stream With the touches of rays at the shimmering cheeks That rhythming heart with troughs and the peaks With the waters of eyes and the emotions, cream Quiet is the drop and the orangish
You’re inside a reality as dripped by Jackson Pollack everything guided, everything only seeming accidental. Straight lines eaten by curves and color as a sense of inevitability. Somehow it turns out as thousands of interlocking narratives, never a single start
The Door// By: Fareed Ghanem **** (1) The door; outside there is everything; flags and noise, traffic policemen, temptation apples, toothy eyes, ears calculating breath-bangs, tinny moon counting steps, cheeks which flower with love, ready to pass to oblivion, flattering
She only knew she was impelled by some force greater than her will. Touching her lips that warm her flash. Merely touching them wasn’t enough. She was drowning in a wealth of sensations. The salt maleness she could taste beneath
These ear-rings, made up of different metals, shapes, and colors do adorn the ears, they think; our foolish girls, not knowing the troubles they create, on jumping, dancing and attracting the boys, equally wicked and foolish, imaging her beauty on
Let’s talk about all that has been unsaid. Shenanigans. Let’s walk to the beyond. I do not want to cross the wall. I just need to see what lies beyond. Are you scared? Your pupils have diluted. And I can
Rain on my pane, Making a mirage of raindrops, You may drizzle, Come as a downpour, Or take me into a tempest. Touch me when lonely, Weave into my heart, Dripping with comfort, Soaking the soul, In your silent ways.
I could see him leave, leaving me alone. I weep and cry, not showing it at all. I think about him, every minute, every second, every moment. Where is he now? I wonder… Has he found someone better, than me?
An exotic world,never dreamt off Mystified thoughts gone through Enslaved from earthly bond Ruthful darkness no more haunting Howling soul in search of other Found my own reflection over’n over Elegance of moment pulls me harder To prodigious circle of
Against the wind A raging sea Crashes splashes Wild and free The blazing sun Rays beat down Casting glares Absent of sound A wooden board Barely afloat Teeter totters Upon the waters A plunging sky Our alibi My fair weather
She was a traveling soul. The galaxy resting above her nose. I’d sit & stare. Wondering where the stars would go next. Both young & in love I let go. Tracing together swirls of color. The planets all together aligned.
Monologue of a monolith to live in a moment was futile. A young house was in disorder. Not listening, I would find the missing links. Grey ash to be smeared on forehead in horizontal lines for shifting the planets. The
Take it to the doors of heart: features are same, of whores and nuns. Small steps, big hands move towards the blood-gates of ropes to pluck the thorns from books. Tomorrow was yet to come. Today it is bloodbath in
At the end of the thought was sadness. When temple lies broken a little white lotus comes up on the tranquil lake. A cute word enters the lone voice, stands down, collapses, retreats into silence. A chaste tree becomes a
The cold. As the days draw in, And nights get longer, When life seems Impossible; To an extent, Has it ever Occurred to you That the cold Making its way Into your bones, Faster And more painful Than a sharp
Space is occupied by space, strength and vitality, a sphere of activity where space is shaped. The mind is preoccupied by thought, identification of process and an abstract concept of time represented and labelled. Mind is a reflection of past,
Dreaming autumn night is really an Unspeakable pleasure; he knows it. Therefore when dusk settles on earth Inviting blinking stars to showcase Their tiny births; when coy crickets Being too cold in season’s first dews, That drip from the cold