Tactile poems bring the best collection of short and long tactile poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great tactile rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these tactile poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on tactile are here for you.
The sensation of thick honey Gliding down your throat, Enveloping your tongue in A heavy, smooth numbness that warms your buds, Dissolving into sweet ecstasy. The smell of rain Soaking into parched soil, Tingling your nostrils, Tickling your senses, Encompassing
Windless dry air blankets the horn of this continent A familiar stare from large ebony eyes embedded in one cherished frame From the scorched earth an anguished image peers out with born innocence Simple wishes glimmer from sunken optic caves
The symphony of you serenades I feel for the sound of touch My fingers caress the piano keys that are the gentle ridges descending your spine Violin strings resonate in the silk strands of your scented hair Your warm eyes
the first is touch losing touch sense of touch losing softness losing abrasions… in dark amputation… this is how it was, my mother did not die, just detached, gradually less tenuously linked to life, until there was no link… now
All those times it seemed unlikely for your body to hold together your heart, bucking so hard, speaking with someone in full bloom of infatuation, the glint of their smile, their clean animal scent, candles flickering on windowsills Outside winter
Otherworldly, tactile retraction of rainbows, from the eyes of believers. Detachment of restless mind at twilight, pot starts boiling. Sundowning, a paranoia takes over, you suffer a childhood near the pyre. Thing is not a thing exclusive of an extremist,
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
A recent visit to Madurai – a vivacious South Indian town, reawakens my pleasant childhood memories. This vibrant town teems with life and vitality; juxtaposing both tradition and the contemporary way of life. I am awakened at about three in
Only a reminiscence of the love, the beauty of a feeling shared, A mirthful experience, days of undoubted happiness, Mutual bearing of nature, There when you avouched you would never leave, Those moments when you would hold on so tight,
As they were walking on the empty roads, empty hands and with empty pockets, everything became silent for a moment, both thinking what to say and a sudden emotion of unknown was raising making both of them uncomfortable. While she
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.
Ah, let come this stifling breeze now to ye all! Such sweet sap envelops my every pore, Shall I await for the ever fresh rainfall? For I fear the amber of daylight no more. Dormant they recline on fields of
Dusk has fallen Quietness tempered by the soft rustling of leaves Whispering and nodding in sweet conversation Helped by the gentle breeze Birds’s lullabies Happy with their young Trees majestic, multiple limbs extended Protectors day and night Far off mountains
She is a curse A blemish on life A deep dark secret Lurks in her sad eyes She craves his forgiveness Wants to make amends Because her birthday Brought his life to an end Daddy, please forgive me I don’t
Walking down Fifteenth Avenue trying to ease the cramped claws of plantar fasciitis out of my foot sun is juice-orange above the horizon keeping a constant shade creeping up the sky there is shredded paper in the gutters firecracker red
The value of wind is known, When it is hot and humid. The value of friendship is known, When the Friend is gone forever. The value of Money is known, When all squandered and none left. The value of parents
How will it change when we know? How will civilization be rearranged? All that we known comes from one place and time, one little speck in space. Great religions over eons have arisen telling all how things must certainly be.
I love to see the winter trees Their twisted boughs and bony knees Contorted knuckles, warted bark The lichens staining limbs so stark If they could speak, a tale they’d tell Of suffering through winter’s hell I love the springtime’s
the end of a thought is never for its death, but for a new beginning; there is always a meaningful silence, a metamorphosis, I do ever find, between a stop and its succeeding word like that of death into birth
Vehicle we run , to lesson our strain strain we feel when vehicle gives trouble trouble we take but blame the vehicle for its brake down Breakdown we experience when vehicle is set for major repair Major repair we get
I am a Traveler, a Wanderer as a Soul “Life” – a great journey I am gonna discover and explore. Routes are dicey, paths are hardly smooth and are always wild, Every corner of the road holds a New unexpected
Thank you for finally listening Although now it is far too late. The death toll continues climbing While nervously you speculate. Black clouds of neglect still shroud us; ferociously the flames rage on It’s 16 hours and counting Our heartache
Happiness happens to me and to all. It happens in small little things, It’s there in life’s offerings. It’s there when we don’t complain, As we are content with our life’s plan. It’s in one’s attitude, It reflects in their
DON’T WORRY ABOUT TOMORROW GOD IS ALREADY THERE have faith of the heart and believe in the power of prayer I know there are those out there that just love to make you feel unworthy but don’t you know God
This day you left this world that day I am experiencing hell without you ever since like a Torn kite flying aimless like thick dark clouds hovering creating darkness in noon like Waves over the sea rising to the skies
I had not imagined that you will start an inquiry into the creeping fog under the estranged moon. Oh, sorrow you had taken away my sun when I was still rooted in night. Wading through narcissi I was trying to
As if words of love could stand alone, Give shelter and feed me. Days when I was hungry, he fed, Provided for another family, But wrote and boasted about me. Cold nights caused me to shiver. No furious fire could
Casuarina! I miss you a lot. Why don’t you reclaim this drab century by your drooping branches, off from the poetry of water? The words are dried up. No rustling sounds, the winged creatures broke the mirrors, a black moon.
The world it was changed with aplomb, When they let loose the nuclear bomb. After living in fear For many a year, Now it’s time to leave Vault 101. But fighting the bandits is hell, When your shotgun does run