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
Our love is not the stuff of legends, of poisons, of letters written with blood. ours is the gentle, everyday love. of fingers run through hair. of legs thrown upon legs. of little things. of wearing each other’s clothes. of
It did not stay in bed for long the ultimate. Clouds climbed down from immortality. The sick motherhood. We made love listening to winds draping our ashes. A father waited at the door. I am the sun I am the
Who are forgivers? Forgiveness belongs to those with a big heart, people of a strong heart, and powerful in mind; ambassador of peace and jocund, those with heart of kindness and people with milk of benediction. Can you forgive? Yes!
Yes indeed “Music is life’s Sound Track!” As on the rail of time An old song verse Transports us back A decade or a score Even more, To recollect A quality time With a lover We spent Though probably Now
Poem…..it soothes the mind It reverberates in the Heart It calms the nerves It creates saneness It makes one bold too It makes life meaningful It is everything in short Who will not like a Poem On flowers, Nature, Rivers
Endless search false starts hope lives on through broken hearts fate will tease gives a peek grabs it back a cruel streak Illusion perhaps a dreamer’s mind a fairy tale you’ll never find or even worse unrequited disenchanted hurt and
Through the perils of human bondage, through the strife of life’s journey, Entrapped and enmeshed in the tangled web of human existence, I scream at the top of my lungs- I AM FREE. Walking the path of life Embedded with
there is a smile below there is a smile above betwixt the heart of praise a lonely heart found love a soul devides then parts on every circumstance we can learn to take part in the dance in quiteness I
One whom I know for ages wanted me to explain what friendship is all about Frankly I too was seeking an answer to it but stood helpless in asking the same Though I am unaware what friendship means I am
Not a single word added today to my tinsel book. The brown eyes were searching my smile. You want to close the happening of first moon and the fig. My roses start a new dialect, waiting on the clouds, almost
“Open the Door”! I feel suffocated I feel hopeless My mind has become claustrophobic My eyes want light My ears want music My heart want courage My soul wants freedom! “Please”, I cried “Open the Door ” So that I
A killing truck running mad I turn Mozartian with a poison gland. You thought Shoemaker is some fall guy. When you don’t even know the meaning, sigh. My measure is King Cobra XIIth. Fear the venom, not the length. Lamp
There’s something about the feeling i get, when i’m lying on my shower floor slumped down, looking at the water travelling down my body as if the water will wash away my identity, my sins and insecurities that it is
Splendor of a moonlit night frozen in vacuum silence of desolate air lies within reach. Let the mind break its golden cage and spread flapping wings. The sky and stars, trees and earth will absorb all the steam and bring