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.
Sometimes it pours like hot drips of melted wax from a candlestick; your migraine. I wanted armistice. Untangle the lies, I am not in your firing line. The tulips in the barrel of your gun cannot forgive the bullets. There
You crawled under my skin Like a needle for a tetanus shot But who knew That that needle would turn into a blade Causing me to be Unstable Untrustworthy Unfriendly You changed me for the better Until you became the
Dreamcatcher, give me a dream. Of lavender fields as far as the eyes can see. Cheery Marigolds with Sunflowers by the stream. And meandering brooks murmuring their glee. Dreamcatcher bring her a dream. Of our fun on the swing. And
Smoky dingy café, workmen shout and curse, she floats among the tables, tending like a nurse. She pauses when she sees me, breaks into a smile; skips behind the counter, lingers for a while. Chatting while she’s serving, shedding all
Each written word reveals many things. What does a signature tell you? Is it sound, plain and mature? Is it recognized as only yours? Its duty is to represent you. Sign it plain, clear, and true. Put something there that
An ordinary lass, Rolled on the grass! Suddenly she glanced, Upon the blue vast! She wished hard, To gauge it in a yard! But oh! her wishful thought, Brought her what she never ought! Luck besieged her, Life to her
Trapped inside complete incarceration A false image of self-representation I am an observer but I am part of the problem No one is real it’s all an illusion Altered personalities to avoid exclusion I try to be true but truth
I remember the laughter and all of the smiles, The journey that seemed like a million miles, The happy times when I had such fun, But really….who did I become. I often wondered what life’s about, When it felt my
Day’s beautiful moment starts at dawn, It finds me in the mysterious hands of night. It’s loveliness does not fade, when the sun rises. A day starts with a freshness of the dawn, It brings a ray of hope, which
Enraged we stand in this broken country still living an old brown paper bag blues. While newsprint vividly tells the story but you might not find it on the midnight news. And I weep again, I weep for all… my
We kissed and set the wheels in motion. Driven wild, I crashed upon your curves. No control, let loose lust’s potion. Set adrift on sensory swerves. See me drowning in your eyes. Taste the poison from your lips. Ignite me
Discarded, on a heap of broken ceramics, a rotten tooth wants an award, for biting the snake. Who was pulling the strings? The temper of a black moon beguiles the sun. The green-pathway was hidden under the rock. Who was
Nothing was beholden. Colony counts were perfect. You were never guaranteed and exit. I am stalked by lips of a black tulip holding a moonbeam. The world moves wearing a shell of emptiness in a cosmos, inviolable. Aggrandizement beyond the
Surrounded by darkness Venom of retribution Closed doors, empty corridors No trespassing No sacred earth Just a no man’s land Every step fraught in minefield Nothing escapes the watchful eye Nothing spared off memory All transgressions etched in time Void
Last year vanished New year ushered while Sun continue to shine Moon as usual on and off seen Shivering Cold continue hide and seek Sweating Hot continue to rise Expectantly unpredictable rain Prices continue to rise to the skies Un
Men, Women, Children Brothers and sisters Be not blind to the temple of the body Be aware To exterior Of the heart, The actions of The soul The state of mind And the flow Of emotions the earth that will
Those verities of secular graft consent to travel, to banish. Snow departs to light; to adorn with pristine bloom the trees rapt and oozing dramatic spoils for the provident birds, with yawning sloughs and water-snakes churning the dead in hotbeds,
There’s a light in my garden, a light in the night. Giving light all around to make everything bright. I peacefully sit out there when evening is here, and wait for my gecko’s who come and play with much flair.
There she stood in the dark, Dark hair billowing around her, Her body, a perfect hourglass… Skin; her skin was so smooth, Smoother, even, than a surface of glass, Glass-like she was, oh-so-fragile… Her lips were full and red, Redder