kerouac poems bring the best collection of short and long kerouac poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great kerouac rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these kerouac poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on kerouac are here for you.
You are not history, You are the victory. You were even not selected in air force, But you commanded all armed forces. You had a vision, You completed impossible mission. You are not only a guide, You are india’s pride.
Life was never so full Full of enthusiasm And sadness at the same time Enthusiasm for what is un-conquered The virgin territory waiting for me All the heights I have to rise to And saddened I am When I see
The hoot of the train was shrill enough to bring me back to my consciousness, With eyes half shut I could see the sunrise albeit my body was in oppressive soreness. Thankful was I that the night was over, And
True love is something so elusive. True love between two people is the most precious of gifts, Falling in love is not just an expression. Love is a powerful force that cannot be dissuaded. Love requires a lot of faith.
The north wind blows cold and dreary, Shrouding trees like snow-white bridal gowns. Streams once murmuring and gurgling, Now mute in deep ice till spring’s meltdown. The night sky shimmers in the steely glints of distant stars. Below an owl
Rain, rain, rain! Please don’t come again and again. I know you are beautiful And for all the creatures you are wonderful. You are important for farmers’ needs’ You are favorable to grow their seeds. with your each and every
Fateful memories prick me today Taking me back to life’s old way A storm of dry and vacant tears Snatches away all my cheers My deadly life just spins around Making me sit back rolled up in a wound Cause
The tride says you reside here with my snow All of your brighest hair, been tarnished with rust You hardly knew I can discem your daisies grow Where your heart alone has fallen to my dust When the moon rages,
The battlelines were drawn. While drinking the sun I set myself ablaze A hooded dilemma of his kindness starts boiling in chaotic dissonance. A backlash stops a self-search. Who am I and why do I belong in the spinning of
On a hollow path you had failed carrying the loaves of bread in biting cold of politics scaring the lips. I was standing near the dawn in praise of dark. The sharks were coming. Here goes the marble floor for
One step the wrong way Is the path to this place within a place. The shops are different here. Run-down, Their beaten and smashed faces glaring With a menacing disdain. Everywhere, Schrödinger’s knife at your back, His gun to your
If there was a way out To get you by my side Probably, I wouldn’t write Since, it is improbable Elsewhere I need to weave this fable Hence on paper! Still, so powerful Your virtual presence You nourish my heart
The wind whirled, turning at a point, The bamboo leaves sounded cracking after being bent- With the “U-turn” of winding blow- There is no way to know- When the wind will change its phase- Turning to east or west? Only
Well you’re one hopeless romantic Almost a border line lovesick fanatic But I wouldn’t change you not if I could I love your wet and sappy kisses And the way you hold me so tight I think I’m gonna pass
Longest damn light in the history of the world. Swear it on my ancestors’ graves While gravely observing a world Behind in An elephantine SUV Bearing miles between the inhabitants. He checks his teeth Smooths a frayed brow Spits onto
On Christmas, Hegel smiles; No year stands up unless a year dies. No butterfly flies up, unless a cocoon is torn out. Crucifixion, dear gentlemen, is the ultimate dialect in the forest of a boring time. Crucifixion, dear ladies, is
Remember me, do you ? I was your shadow, a positive one Always by your side, concerned Giving energy to your soul while my soul was draining somewhere You told me you love me And I believed you blind I
He peeped out of his castle very frightened someone may call his name. He knew vice-versa they were afraid of him calling him venomous satan in snake skin. Saying he is the sinner of temptation hissing he nods that’s not
The burial ground should not be a place of buried treasures The bodies of the deceased are all that should be found there We brought nothing into this world, and nothing should go out Blessed are we who die in
The coming of a that to dismantle the comb, unstilling trees under tracer bullets swaying in embrace for moonmilk. The unzipped planktons in sea open their mouth to supermoon for a night dive in a green passion. Does it need
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.
Laughing and crying eager to know what’s next. This sort of behavior feels like some kind of a hex. Changes are emerging and feelings are stronger. I am so anxious I cannot wait any longer. This surprise of love is
Life….This is not a fairy tale that we all dream of, fantasize or speculate it to be. Nobody promises us that, not even God. Life is an amalgamation, of those really fantastic, fanciful, sometimes phenomenal, remarkably awesome days and of
Will you celebrate in heaven? Have all your birthdays been and gone? Are you 35 forever? Acting like you’re twenty one! Will Granny give you apples? And Taid build you fort? Will you have a pint with Gavin? Dutch beer,
It came without warning, no early whisper of fate Your body released you, there must be some mistake In the fury of loss, the mind and the heart are enemies Silent screams steer the wreckage on the forbidden quest for
Fire in kidneys was burning the basket. Privacy of green thumbs was intimately involved. Let us share the candle light march for the blossoms, who would not stay for old birds, Read me again the epitaph of the martyr, who
They are treated as mere numbers of human consequence, dotted ubiquitously on the front pages of tabloids and newspapers. They are figures that scatter my article weekly- seemingly just another number that the eyes will so casually scan over. Sometime
Today I know why God made me a human The species of agony,love and ideas I was involved in weaving my success When at sixteen I lost my heart to someone That person was a temptress The evil and saviour
It was burning again like goldenrods in drift valley of ethnic hate. You start climbing down deeper in fear holding tight your identity. The anguish of ruined home under the shadows of bribed hands, runs on the bodies of pilgrims