Sleep-walking poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of sleep-walking poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on sleep-walking are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Well there’s a chimpanzee playing in my flower bed, there’s a ghost in my attic raising mortal hell, I must be going crazy ‘cuz I haven’t even taken any pills and this can’t be real, I tell myself you know
I fell asleep at the wheel of my life In somnolent slumber I slid Cruising on blindly my eyes off the road While I from reality hid Days had no meaning, events left no mark Each breath unconsciously taken Smiling
The Night seems to be so ‘Haunted’. He scares us with his ‘Beauty’ and makes us so comfort with his ‘Darkness’. He is someone who doesn’t talk but listens to everything. When Night is awake every life is dead. But
Looked downward – the granite face, to see imprinted kupfernickeled god, lying in dust. From where to where we have come sleepwalking? In freezing winds, like brown angels with swollen lids. White moon-poised to commit suicide? Blindfolded heavy as lead
my father used to tell me that divorce was the process of losing one’s routine. 5:30 came and went without the sound of a familiar rattle from outside the door that came from my mothers keys. last night I got
Beyond the sex he was sleepwalking in shame hiding his faith ingloriously. A poacher in harem of politics, where you stack the hidden virility for killing the money. A single mate must die making love on screen in the vicinity
The enormous starlit sky was divided- As it was marred by a dark strip of cloud-figure, Suddenly,the heat of stars was receded- The cloud appeared like a wide unlit ribbon upon there. We felt a dark coolness with rushing up
Fingers printed on face they offered apologies for the mudslide after the typhoon standing on the mound of twisted bones; the state had the right to trample and extinguish a bright flame, a meteor, streak of dissent only the sect,
Everyone waits for good days to arrive Nobody knows where are those days Hope is only the melody of life Behind the horizon of sky Expectation is enriched in every heart Sufferings are overcome with distance of happiness Nobody knows
Dear moon, please bring these thoughts to where she is, She yearns moonbeams when coming from your face, Please bounce to her when I would blow a kiss Across the sea, there to her flowered place; Do you tire of
Roses are Red, Daisys are Yellow, Violets are Blue, Auta is Black, She is fair Her hair, curly, When she flips it backwards, I feel this magnetic pull towards her. Her face, so clear and spotless, With blue eyes, In
It was a freak accident of epithelium under anaesthesia. You place a window on to a hollow brain. The money makes the monkey out of you. A green light blocks the fish, your memory, to swim in black thoughts. The
Rebirth of an anxiety, of an abstract thought, takes on the impossible of something left between false and true. Out of spite some body was betraying the life. A bodiless lie becomes an imposter beats the truth and walks away.
With frugal memory you wanted to tame the radical spine, while fright was bending the thighs. Was it a travesty of the graduated thumb? The speed of the river had accelerated in aching land. People gathered to collect the alms
Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated. Remember me and smile, for it’s better to forget than remember me and cry. If I had a single flower for every time I think about you, I could
Yes, your name was sliced off from the impasse. I will stand with you to track the continental drift. How little I knew about you and the prosthetic words. Again and again I return to ruins, and the dust and
The Door// By: Fareed Ghanem **** (1) The door; outside there is everything; flags and noise, traffic policemen, temptation apples, toothy eyes, ears calculating breath-bangs, tinny moon counting steps, cheeks which flower with love, ready to pass to oblivion, flattering
My knees scrape the floor of my room. As I remember the wrongdoing I committed. And now the devil is here To punish me for my sin. Anger had corrupted this angel, Turned her skin blood red. Her voice was
I thought everything is forever lost, all my feelings buried and gone. I must have been cursed, I thought I never find what I desire the most. My broken heart was beating in vain, I knew I never be the
A thought so perturbing that questions our state of being what is the purpose of this life and living? too short a time and the doubts unending this countdown in sync with our birth sooner demystified the better it is
The flesh was putting up a brave dialogue. I was willing to play the game. Stunned, shocked, pleasantly sore basking in heat of silk throat, I asked the needles to go ahead and stitch the wounds without loss of blood.
There was existence, without space. I was afraid of my unborn child. Inheriting the stammer of history I could not think of any brand abuse. On the contrary, fumes throw you off the road. Full moon rising on the cleft.
Wrath hammers down Crushing My reflection bursts into flames Leaping Scorching liquid glass into my bloodstream. Blood coagulates into mercury droplets Reaching the floor Rolling Out into infinity Space is the absence of thing-ness into that space, where no one
Experiences continue to haunt you Life events sort of taunt you Things to which you long said good bye You fear someday might say hi Heart had seen dreams shatter Thoughts said past doesn’t matter People continue to pull you
Well it just breaks my heart That you can’t be home for Christmas…nobody should have To work on Christmas day but Not everybody sees it my way People make excuses and say It’s not all about the money…yeah Right you
Each day was not so different, But one fine day everything started to take on colours The world seemed to be a beautiful place to live on, But this lasted not long. Leaving all his promises, He bade you a
Space has all the silent approval, truth will not multiply. Another funeral takes place in the barren field of lies. Fire burns the life’s hopes, while town mourns the death. Sunshine bakes the eyes but truth will not multiply. Desireless
I walked along a sunbeam for a moment yesterday And things that were hurting ceased their hurting for a time My cheeks felt the windblast of a future yet unlived And my grey muddy puddles turned to pools of light
Mother this is a pardon letter, Since what we have done against you is bitter. Being masters, We have hurt pastures. We have filled the earth With dirt. We remembered technology But forgot zoology. We fought for a piece of
So I find myself once again in the shadow of the crescent moon Back to the marshlands in the throes of an ancient gossamer Forest…well I can still hear your voodoo beckoning the spirits And I too can feel the