Musk poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of musk poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on musk are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
I sleep to your sweet lullaby Composing songs of intoxicated love. And I look at our reflections on roads left wet from thirsting rain; Our love – laced between twisted bodies and entwined fingers that smell of the musky clouds
So much Krisnachura was strewn on the path, we stomped on them, wind was tousling— so sweet, like a lovely woman, musk of wild champak. The perfume reminds me of exquisite palms, deep coiffure and wild dreams of night. Then
All night On the neural paths, have rushed – shiny – The shapes of the world, yearning for Scepters of mountains And valleys and rivers of ice And prairies and lakes and forests, endlessly. Yet it would not be the
Sweet tender flower… I love you. Been long in the Garden… In search. You speak to my senses… In silent, poignant eloquence. I long to wake with you… Feel the warmth of morning’s smile upon us. Look upon you… For
My father beat me that flat arc celluloid comets white and orange clattering into corners flat thwack the vengeful ball finding my belly he’d run me all around the table drowing in sweat blistering feet he’d cheer my points then
For a knife, sharp is best, a good friend a valuable tool in your preparations epitome of confidence, hacker of haunches an extension of the hand and of the will however it keeps you at a remove, though those precise
In the maze of words and tales.. You behold grace .. of a beautiful phrase! Medial of cacophony and melodic sound.. You hold the awe of primodal musical confound ! As dark dusk domes above the temple.. Farthest sound of
Your cheeks, in red ochre rouged In dimples, the scarab dew slurps Eyes and teeth, a white flash sleight Stretch marks, varicose crossed, like The Anaconda’s swallowing strains. Your life restless, the nose suffocates Dawn disrupts as the feathers ruffled.
When speed overtakes you, incision on black marble crashes. Before the moonrise your bygone sister falls in your arms crying. Baby death had jumped from the second floor to meet the earthquake of icy forgetfulness in wild fire. A landslide
When hunting for quotes on Google Look instead for tattoos They’re stronger When looking for women Always be handsome Or lonely When filing for divorce Use your dominant hand When signaling an explosion Start a fire When signaling a fire
Let’s paint these walls red, With the blood of our dead. Of the lost and wounded, the sad and depressed. Let’s paint that chair green, With the leaves of the trees. The trees cut down, every day, week, month, year.
A walk in the woods. Thunder in the distance. Lighting dancing, edging dark clouds. Soft rain thru the pines. Boughs dripping in the pond. Birds sounding bird talk. Many languages to be heard. Frogs in the pond announcing their attendance.
It’s said search for happiness Is the main reason for unhappiness All our life we search for happiness, We wait for some big happiness to come our way In the run, in the rush to get some big happiness We
The path was becoming pathless after seeking the deluge. Gunslingers were climbing on trees to shoot the white doves. There were ice needles in my eyes to check the inheritance of height. Desires move with a feline grace, lynx-eyed. You
You are somewhere And that is enough Enough is all I have Great empty arms Of distance Cavernous miles Resound and echo Filling the void With love’s longing I ache to close the gap Dissolve the miles Obliterate time And
You, Filthy fingers that pinched my wallet Crooked skeletons in your closet Using every sliver of shade to hide your face In the blinding, piercing light of righteous day Heart smashing violently against your ribs As you scurry to seek
Those leaves weren’t few that shed away But down alive, not much could stay Few were tramped, few had dried It isn’t, that they never tried Few were blown, few were crushed At nights they lived, as roads were hushed
She started to shake inside. Felt sick with anger and distrust. Now that the culprit that broke her heart was back in town. The past memories where clouding his judgement. Neither do I care. As a far I am concerned
The displaced years cling to your body like an extended death. I wanted to see what could not be seen by clutching. the lifeless doubts. Emotions play: potentials are threatened. Remaining alert becomes a punishment. I grieve for the dementia,
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
Daily chores has no place for sentiment each one has plans earmarked for the day Busy person has no time to spare time with near and dear lazy person has no mind to think about near and dear Present generation
Falling asleep deeper and deeper reality fading within my slumber, clearer and clearer it would become the dream I’d dream. So in this reality now I’d be. So which is real the dream I’d dream or waking up from where
Overcast and drab evening with ominous shroud dark Distant rumbling crackle akin to giant ignited spark Adding to swelling misery in my moments desolate Craving for little company to someone try and relate Swallowed up with solitude for sane sense
I lay my head down on nature’s pillow Feel the warm sunlight and winds blow Sky is absolutely a pretty blue diamond Always pleasant to see like chewing an almond Soft white clouds tickle the glowing trees Make them laugh