Relics poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of relics poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on relics are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
She shakes it, spreading the exuberance, gushing out of its folds ’n Crevices of long-ago, like a perennial stream of jubilant euphoria- Converting matter into emotions, from the tangible to the intangible, Embodying an idyllic confluence around, fervently fluttering to
Your charms, your charms, are figments dreams are made, I wish not to be gravely soaked therewith, Or else, I will be fool in love’s charade, That anyone would rightly guess forthwith; Is it folly to wait by Heaven’s door?
It was a grizzly sky indeed So dull and drab The Kind, that reminds you of a Middle aged mistress, deeply in despair Puffing up a ballooned pout. Who is casting ash over Our azureous canopy? From where does this
Drowning her children back in her womb, a big tear rolls down the cheek of earth. She was sitting on broken bones to watch the terror, ear for ear to listen, eye for eye to see. Hope was becoming ephemeral.
When terror strikes, fear inside you makes a hissing sound, breaks the vessel. Pain spurts out. Your limbs swell like sapphires in a naked suffering. You were searching the face of your dead brother on burning ghat. And then on,
Souls leave no shadows And no more shades either For, they remain in those Moth eaten sepias as relics of Those we have loved once And killed many times over Souls leave holes only Wholesome holes; say some in mock
This day of sixty fruitful weeks shadow pristine relics of bundled keepsakes adorned in obsolete gazettes of passing snow storms, puppy training and next door’s junk mail. Transition logs re-call six states, five military orders, four duty stations, six rusted
Confused and wary like a spermwhale, you are nosediving; – through the shadows of terrible pain ejecting ambergris. Who was getting the bribery to fix the belly button? This was not revolution. It was evolution- of a stinking city. The
If dreams are strung from end to end like string, My dreams of you could wrap around the world, And all the ways your name, my mind did bring, Are way much more than how my thoughts unfurled; Though mornings
Do not talk of unhealing wounds, talk of the weapons. Talk of the hands which used the arms and talk of the brain which pressed the trigger. Violence was primitive but the cruel eyes had a new glint, At night
Weaving fine fibres of unripe beliefs, from a fire base, a blue bird scrambles, shading the stone valley. There was no thrift for the cadavers. The burnt relics were eating away the greens of tearful eyes. Sun was slugging again.
That essence Those hands, that body that caresses who breastfeeds us that gives us life starting an eternal struggle who always leaves his teachings Their loves his consolations That essence that multiplies in the sister, in the aunt, in the
Wandering all along the Shore Sharing the shore with many Hiding amongst the crabs The shells playing hide and seek My sore foot is caressed by the sand Leaving an Imprint for a Moment The tides take them away Step
At Sarnath the deer park where Gautama the Buddha first taught the dharma FROM THE HEART –A BHIKSHU’S SUPPLICATION Enlightened lord your wisdom is our knowledge , sufficient is that knowledge to ensure our covenant with wisdom in its turn
Winter topples the sting of muddled tongue. The bottle breaks the stasis of eye. I cede the smile of history. Somebody has left the home. I become my enemy in dark for the acid taste of truth. The moon had
Blaze was coming to terms with pyrotechnic cascade. The dignity was emotionally drained out. The persona turned to anima, to find out the answer for quality verdict. A rogue mission had flattened the brain. The piano man was dead and
The study of history is one of the greatest resources for models and lessons of life. History records a runaway slave who went on to finished college in Ohio. He relocated to Mississippi and became a wealthy planter. He later
Its different how the sky is blue, the layman never had a clue. How beautifully the flowers bloom, and the bright setting sun calls for the day’s doom. Little children, smiles innocent, who knew what actually they meant.. Until one
Modern and civilized Get organized March in a path Of numbers and math A new look A diet book Junk food Drinks for the mood A new product A commercial conduct Your supervision Through the television For your well being
Birthdays are special Reminding us of many times Growing past, but still remembering Not the bad things, but those that shine And as that gift of life was given to us We give it in return And nurture it so
Sun spreading its colourful rays, Slowly dispersing in water at pace, The clouds saluting its attitude The waves tuning its magic magnitude, It’s time for Sunset! It’s time for Sunset! Blowing breeze carried text of peace in it, Foot stamps
I do not want to take you, either the road ahead, or lovely gyrations on low stage of voicelessness. The swoop of eagle on a little bundle, of chromatic fever: was it unbirdy? The tree of death grows taller than
Butterflies emerge from unraveling cocoons Raising up, flying away like hot air balloons Traveling the world from calm meadows to isolated lagoons Harmonious living with the squirrels and raccoons Soaring above endless ocean until treacherous typhoons Relentless digging uncovered a
He had a point to make People viewed he was good He knew inside stories Was privy to information Actually tried blackmailing Under the garb of advising People fell prey to his ways To people who suspected him He was
I’ve waited all week to again see your face To smell your perfume during lovers embrace Hold your hand gently stare into your eyes I whisper I love you the truth never lies We look at each other with longing
If it were the touch of his hands upon my shoulders, The guest was longing and serenity. If it were the whisper of his voice into my ears, It was the excitement of love that collided with my hopes. All
If you weren’t a lie I’d eat you whole, Maybe wisen up to the days you stole, But your consciousness is dripping south, So sit up straight and spit the fiction from your mouth, You’re so effortless to behold and
When hope returns, will you be in alternative mind? Like a praying mantis brooding for a prey in a bowl of momentum while I have a sense of alienation collecting a cloud of Memories ripping open the gates of tears
Your absence was left beside me for the white salt, unsolicited, unbroken wants. Asking to return the dried roses pressed between the pages of talking book. Counting only the dying fireworks the hissing sparks, left in the unwrapped bones and
I don’t just reside under your bed. Don’t you dare escape me, I’m inside your head. My eyes are on you, I crave your blood. My soul is burning, My greed may flood. Trick or treat? I’m impossible to beat
When we met for first time, Our relationship was thinner than water. When we kept on meeting, Our relation became thicker than blood. When we talked for first time, The conversation was shorter than the twinkling of eye. When we