Maps poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of maps poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on maps are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
JOURNEYS WITHOUT MAPS/ AFTER FIGUERAS, CATALUNYA when seawind blows it spins the moons, fills lunar curves in golden masks that revolve above the ornate faces of the harbour clock when the seawind blows and moons revolve wind-fed wheels feed and
You get on the freeway and floor it all those maplines and dots coming briefly to life like water drops in a hot frying pan you stop when you get hungry you fight through the tired trying to save money
In mangled bodies and severed limbs, the blood gives up its claim. A twisted window blocks the landscape of silvered faces. Nobody talks with the moon. Night burns, the fat floats on the dead mouthings. Death has the foulest taste.
With luggage full of dreams, The journey seems to start. A vivid map to a destination, Engraved in the traveller’s heart. It takes a part of the journey To realize that the map is fake; Deceived by his own thoughts
And so ’tis done – drench is gone Salted spray no longer flies the wild air That grim Tempest, that did wax and surge deep, now makes only whispered remembrance of its fury and troubles not the delicate house of
Life is about getting over it, all of the tragedies and all the victories, all traumas and triumph. The beautiful fractures and bruises, veins and jagged cracks asymmetrical maps of linear life falling forever forward. Glued together and displayed in
It was simple, it was effortless All too transparent and ever so clear Life threw its bounties at him His hard road was strewn with maps to its wonders At every dead end he found a shovel At every crossroad
I am here on an archaeological quest, to satisfy many a curious mind’s request for knowledge on antiques and artifacts of Egypt’s long extinct historical facts, in treasured sands buried, like gold mines earnestly sought for in stories shrouded in
A lost soul on stolen time wonders like a landscape drifter For I am that which stands before you, a bottom feeder and shapeshifter Wizards watch wrath without wondering why Wither away like roses in winter whispering a thundering cry
By the mirror side she sat, On a small caned chair, Looking at the tall figure, Combing her long dark hair, Frown on the little face, To resolve her loneliness, A baffled look stared at her, A playmate she wanted
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
Thinking about past Again and again Life is still very vast Enjoy the forthcoming rain Raindrops coming from heaven Every drop ending on floor Every day you keep on missing someone The truth you can’t ignore Anything can be done
Roses have colours with global appeal; some are pink, blue, red, white and they reveal glamour and beauty for all to cherish. Roses have in them the power of love, so do they, the ability to heal a heart
Eyes filled with tears of blood, Slow stream flows down my warm cheek, When I drag the blade across my wrist, A moment of bliss where my soul’s reborn, Lots of rushing blood burns my eyes, My fingers alone console
I followed your trace in this city thinking about how lonely you felt without me I visited all the places in your photos everything was so familiar except the lack of you Would you appear all of a sudden in
This body of mine. Wretched; leaking stink from every pore, spreading decay to everything touched: metal, food, flower, paper; shedding dead skin every moment; creating odour odour odour… But in your arms transformed: into a messy tangle of limbs, hair,
It’s so refreshing to see a stretching lush lush green field, Cool summer breeze blowing leisurely, Flora and fauna blending together merrily, Fields filled with thousands of glittering flowers, Which have been washed by the previous night’s showers. Along with
After the pain, some wrath, and more tears Woke up from the trance, which seemed like years The volatile love vaporized to steam Was pinched by reality, out of the pipe dream My heart’d stopped beating and broken apart Residing
You had an aura of mystery that captivated my heart, Even in my sleep I was allured, indicating your start. Whether it’s the water droplets or ice or snowballs, All bring an immense pleasure, when water falls. Oh Rain!! You
To live in the moment, And not to worry about what comes after. To live in the present, And enjoy our time as youths, before it’s over. To not worry about the future, And everything that comes along with it.
After the rain wets the ground, a damp, naked silence, floats in air on the wrong side of the moon. A strange mist, like a post coital whiff envelops you savagely. The testa breaks. A forest heaves beneath your nails.
metaphysical impulse ensues through the flames of resistance shun its existence etched beneath the tapestry of loosened conclaves alone in desperation in the night heavy sounds of cosmic illumination in temples of fire reaching ever higher on point locked in
Trees all around me. Trees moving with wind. Wind is making the trees bend. Trees bending, but not breaking with the wind. Trees are like my life. Moving with the wind. I’m bending with the wind, But I’m not breaking,
Well I can see the golden Falcon of Edfu circling Abydos tonight in the shadow of a blue moon, I can feel the cool, cool desert winds walking the three star path of the Jackal back to Giza again pulling
Beloved houses die in essence, Beloved people in mass. These treasures seem to balance. Upon infinitesimal hours. For houses die subtle silent deaths, Like furtive fading seasons. Like shadows of dimming lengths, As the fugitive sun hastens. They die –
In this blood-watered land forms flow fluid as serpent becomes lizard, lizard becomes turtle, turtle become cicada, cicada becomes sea urchin, becomes sacred owl with onyx eyes In this soul-fed land fugitive figures fuse into each other, my breath becomes
Knock! Knock, Are you there ?. Tell me! Tell me !, Are you even breathing?. Suffering horror!, Are you afraid of the torture?. Tension! Tension!, Don’t you even mention. Panic! Panic!, All over prevailing. Killing ! Killing!, Your lust is
Silently you went to disappear in blue – alone or unalone – I was watching a moth on the burning lamp in night way scrawled flat as death’s signature on the heap of broken wings, between space and time an
1. Somebody puts a hand on my shoulder I turn around suddenly it was moon. 2. Do you hear the inaudible voices of abstruse frosting. The leaves are falling. 3. What you did not know was my pain. When I