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.
Reached, not yet pubescence: a cloud says, moon was crazy, treading on a forbidden lake of frozen tears. Breaking fast unto death for releasing the doves in sky of hymns. The gametes were weary. Procreation will wait. Let the dark
From the ages past, the Swamp in the Niger Delta was inhabited by people who live on the proceed from the murky Swamp Then in a stroke of Nature’s benevolence, the murky Swamp started oozing out the wealth and riches
Clouds strayed in the sky Like lambs in the pasture; Winds roared at the high Like lions in the leisure; Thunders struck on the roof Like shoots of the troop; Fears brood in the heart Like snakes creep in dark;
Busiprione, klonipin, prazosin and prozac stepford wives vis a vis stimulants offering an emotional uplifting dalliance cathartic against the depredation of panic attacks melancholia and obsessive compulsive disorder bearing down hard against psychological maladies delivering a near ecstatic state of
From the unread book I look back at three generations, with whom I was fighting for a staircase, which did not take me anywhere. It was an edge over the wisdom for footfalls in space for an apology for an
my forgotten love! I am perpetually in love with this pain, for, it is a fond remembrance of our long forgotten past… enshrined in my love, those memories blossomed to many a beautiful spring! though, now, it might seem, to
Sunlight streaming through the window The curtains fluttering in gentle breeze Scented sheets scattered around the desk Me, seated with my feet aloft my chair Pen in mouth, mind lost in thought A faraway look in my eye. A letter
A tribal instinct stops the nemesis: Spraying the blood-soaked, small foot prints on my chest; unlocking, I accept myself. Why contained anger of awesome ache over the periphery? Through the atrophied, black limbs – an elite infusion of trespassing knowledge?
A fat island burns under a looming sun. Bleeding rays will enter your eyes to see the blundering world. The gods were melting down looking at the corpses of faltering orchids, spread out at the feet of a white blaze.
The sands of time, so apt! Grain by grain, Unendingly, our lives ebb away. Like a candle lit at birth, Burning bright- Till the end, Our lives too- Sometimes in a fright! Seasons come, seasons go- Sunrise after sunset, a
I can’t stop writing when I think of you You are morning’s cold water splash You are the shower of rain from hanging clouds You are favourite song on my lips You are the dream keeps me awake every night
Holy Aggie a morning near you was an age of enlightenment You exist ever in a sleepless dawn of scrubland fallow patches, rusting equipage, savaged stand of pecan a semicircle of bidders, smoke heavy in the hollows Fourteen and a
Today I think I shall stay in my bed, Nothing accomplished, step back instead. No time to eat so I’ll eat on the go, Binge all day long but nobody knows. Petrol is low but I’ll take the chance, Roadside
Robots on the line, With their tedious whine. Options galore, Just hit buttons one to four. What happened to the good old days, When real people used to say, Hello and how can I help you, And what was that
Illusions… are so beautiful… aren’t they? so tempting… so alluring… so full of promises of happiness… Illusions built of illusions … that pull you so deep within… that at one point the self becomes an Illusion… thoughts become dreams …
My name has been written in a piece of letter, waiting for me to come for a warm conversation. I was lost… I was swimming into the imagination of the melancholy. Leaves were embraced in the street. It was autumn.
‘GANDHISM’ – an eternal truth of divinity, Found in all human individuality ! Struggle is to ‘Experiment’ & find in yourselves, It is not hiding anywhere else ! Empathy for the last one, Is the ‘talisman’ for the ‘Sarva-jan’ !
(1) What echo says in his revert? It says, I have no dwelling; not at furrowed paths or nooks or crooks, not at mountain peaks or in shadow vales, not at bottoms of pets, not in mouse-holes, or in cloaks
Dividing bridges in the grimace of time, Earth peeled and uprooted in a perfidious chime, Upholstery of ashes do perplex the sun, Blurry vision does escape the wanton hun, Moon braces for the evening sun, Cradle of concrete that once
Monster lurking around each corner awaiting the moment of absent mind to strike a venomous thing this is knowing just how to bite dripping with venom it sits and waits with a smirk it glares over to confirm the pain
The Twenty First Century will be like no other. For millennia the human race experienced glacial progress forward. Generation after generation pretty much the same. Then slowly at first things began to change. The Bronze Age, the Iron Age, jump
A lonely piece of night on my palm Restlessness maturing to blissful calm Shapes of life moulding in me Fencing the fields of destiny Solitary thoughts rooted in self Refusing support, rejecting help Unwinding the core, reaching within To bones,