Psychedelic poems bring the best collection of short and long psychedelic poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great psychedelic rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these psychedelic poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on psychedelic are here for you.
You lean against the fourth wall, To observe the darker three. It is hollow in the ground, You find nothing to rest your hand upon, So you place a rough white sheet. You try it flimsy. Because the colours would
Neath the boughs and eaves; a soul all withered, weathered; grieves. For a love once unfurled Of promises made; and hope assumed and vows murled…. Scattered and battered in the undergrowth lies a heart that has found no rhythm no
I’ve fallen in love with the poet In all its dimensions rippling across the pool of time, incarnate in its everything the rosy cheeked and wet lipped girl rattling existential verse over the clamor of a twelve car train, barreling
Love squared by Love rounding each edge, geometrizing each ends equalizing its alphabets, circling its triangles. Infinitesimally surrounding transitory planes and lanes within our pyramidal silences, giving new lines and directions, intersections of re-constructions compasses and conjunctures within rebellious Mathematics
SCENES FROM A EUROPEAN MOVIE (OR THE ETHICAL EQUATIONS POSED BY PAUL KLEE DANCING WITH A GERMAN SHEPHERD) “Art makes visible the unseen” – Paul Klee Along the edge of the Gothic archway, starlings disturb the air, only slightly. Its
I gaze through my door expecting her arrival; Wish she sees me for I am not her rival!!! I stare her window, pretending to be innocent; But her dad stares at me, through the balcony vent!! Developing my fullest courage
The moment of loneliness The feeling of devastation The losing of hopes, all hopes.. The instance I felt cast away, purposeless.. There..! I see you, heading towards me, Like a light that destroys darkness And you light up my soul
Dear Bird, my bosom friend, Preach me thy living-art Weaned of all wicked craft, Enable wash filthy taint, Unveil yet another phase, My own – still hidden- face ! Thus, living a truer life -To the content of heart and
I didn’t mean it. I didn’t know that doing that was bad. I just wanted to know what would happen. But now everyone’s saying I’ve been naughty. I think Miss Berry’s going to tell me off. She’s going to call
It is not on you, dear poet, but on your Nation, and its rulers, spread all over Their body, mind and soul; irreparable, Their cancerous thoughts and deeds; ‘The red salute’, they offer to all, a mean, Cheap and cruel
Festivals come and Go The Rich celebrate with gusto The middle class try to appease God and they celebrate too The poor and down trodden left wondering what is it all about When your kitty and tummy is filled you
When shoulders are in dearth whereby to cry, And frozen tears would stab with loneliness, A smile I dare that unto heaven try, For wish, my prayer speaks with holiness; The dirge that grieving lips would sadly sing, On hollow
Arcturus touches me pinpricks of a blood orange juice I walk naked in the night serenaded by frogs daring bats to tear mosquitos from my hair warmth of August stars ripple with atmosphere all those photons painting me the perverts
Brain Born Perverts : The denial of earthly existence ! Does The Existence sustain? Beguile compels to distort , And infuses the fickle fake plots . The dignity of faith and the formidable stature Are plundered by time winged lockouts.
The legato of language and lingo, The dance of diction and dialect — Have you ever considered the difference A little letter or two can effect? Texture of tense, Savor of sense, The nuance in a sentence — What’s really
O’ Holy Mother have heart on a broken soul tonight Surround me in your divine and graceful love light Cleanse me of my sins in the blood of your all mighty Powerful son…help me be the man God would like
A little flower is an expression, Of love and art, Unique tiny creation, Capturing every heart. Beautiful and magical, Uplifting wonderfully, In a small bouquet, A moment of untold joy. Every little flower has music, In its soul, Inviting harmony,
Sitting on the bed your legs stretched, on your shoulder so lovingly you kept my head, holding my face with your palms you kissed me on my forehead, embracing me in your arms you kissed me on both my eyes,
When postponed, death had no meaning. It was lying in ambush. Journey was imperfect without a termination. Behind the dust was another desire. Another thumb on the trigger starts shooting through the bubble of moon. Every bone springs to jump
You know, I just write as it flows Sometimes poetry Sometimes prose Who knows… What this life brings Who knows… When the nightingale sings Yesterday is history Tomorrow is a mystery Today is the truth Now is the reality I
Silver dagger Shadow of a stranger Ominous danger In a dark, dark place unknown down deep where very few have ever gone And you, you in all your mysterious and Gothic ways that strange look in your eyes is like
The day I realised that I’m just like everyone else. Clarity. I spent all my time thinking that I was different, unusual. [Apparently] I thought differently to everyone else. [I] Wanted, needed different things. Craved isolation. Solitude. Peace. Contentment. Simplicity
there’s a song in my heart that needs to be sung in union with friends a bit combersome fallen angelic creatures with vast different features create a whole inside flirting with fire blowing it up to its fullest of desire
Dare to question madness, valiant, ever courageous, interrogate absurdity, what you find vexatious. Never refuse to face unyielding resistance, stay true to your beliefs, remain ever consistent. If there is a price to pay for the right of knowledge, and
They say the things that finally break you, Are the words stuck in your throat. And she has years of thoughts not uttered, Crammed in the pockets of her coat. A whispher among a word, That’s learnt only to speak.
All over the world, today Hearts are opening, filling the air with love As couples everywhere remind themselves Of the unbreakable bonds that tie them together. That’s one way of looking at it. But what about those who have nobody?
Loneliness is what I call the monster that hides in the corner. Waiting for that moment to strike. Staring at me with those glaring eyes. Those glaring eyes that are the only eyes that can actually see my soul. They
Nestled in the long loud smell of your kiss, Which reminds me of the smoke guzzling chimneys of my hometown And the yellow sunlight reflecting off our cemented yard Is the elixir of death, destruction and surprise. The surprise on