Virginity poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of virginity poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on virginity are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
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
On periphery of gestures and casts I speak for fading integrity while a fossil of a scream was stolen from the womb of language. On becoming silent, an untitled truth shakes sensibility. Small vignettes track the battleships of calligraphy. The
The elevator smells like a woman I knew for a day back when I wasn’t such a behemoth could resist the mouth-temptations of savor and texture it was a bar and I was under-age but no one spotted the guilty
Only the love-birds will know it was time of inquisition. There was a lot of prodding in the neighbourhood. A voice without sound was resenting with guilt-virginity and the bell tolls for a zero hour. The entrusted trust was still
Torrents swept the gutters Mercutio ran in from the parking lot hoping there would be no stabbings under Romeo’s arm today frogs felt the building mud and croaked atypical for Seattle at any time haunted house thunder shook the aged
The angel of friendship rumoured of an affair with a demon; The legacy of beings of every Earth Lives through its connections. A tale of geese of the morning sky, Pose as a ‘V’, glorifying amity. Owing to misapprehension of
Guilt is a mermaid picking strawberries at a grocery shop You think you see it there But you are the only one And you are allergic to strawberries. Guilt is an armour you tragically fall into As soon as you
The innocent and lovely creatures are crying, crying bitterly every moment, For their beauty is their curse; One can not listen to the cry, As it is disgracefully buried by the devils in the inaccessible depth of the secret world,
A futurist virginity in black rose was seeking posthumous award for immoral kisses of thorns. Unaware of lethal thighs skipping the lunar landscape at night. Were you going to leap over the mountains curling across the glaciers of white pain?
Were you ready for a virginity test to cross the umbrella of harpoons. A chilled moon will welcome you after slaying the hot sun in the valley of gods. A schism scoops ignominy. Seeing the lights which were not there.
for beheading the raceme three bullets went into the bubbling chest the assassins had come when she was alone with scars on wings she sailed on voices of silence the melody had kissed the moon in night without veil it
Although those many years have passed Having every bit of reason to grasp The true message in his songs Seen him twice in Hartford, Ct That brother made a dent in my true memory as a young G Spring love
‘Twas the month before Christmas, I was feeling quite pleased 16 days since I smoked, 16 days since I wheezed The ashtrays were stashed, my lighter long gone The cravings more tolerable, not nearly as strong I reminded myself. “don’t
I find something beautifully heartbreaking about the sound of a string quartet playing in a minor key. As the first bow glides across the strings my heart moves in ways unknown to me. I close my eyes and imagine I
You had an aura of mystery that captivated my heart, Even in my sleep I was allured, indicating your start. Whether it’s the water droplets or ice or snowballs, All bring an immense pleasure, when water falls. Oh Rain!! You
You left behind touchstones when I was inventing another zero. Black and white, sobering transparency was reclaiming the mandate of dust. Barefoot lambs were clamouring for ethics in forbidden land. The sun shrinks the clouds to distribute equally, the landscape
A purple umbrella What once blocked the rain Now catches the opportunity A purple umbrella What protected me from discomfort Now prevents puddles A purple umbrella The comfort of not being wet Has been exchanged for the freedom to breath
You’re my sweet endearing child Fragile and lovely to stare at You gave me a reason to live Smiles and hopes were brought in to me. Every day is a new enjoyable chapter Looking forward to be the best father
The end, Is the beginning For it emerges Like a phoenix From the ashes Of hope, And upon broken wings Makes sore attempts To seek true love Up & down And forwards and backwards It moves, And comes to the
If there had been a wizened gypsy I’d crossed who’d laid down a curse upon me or revealed I would die while driving a car it would make more sense, this milky inner weakness I feel when I consider getting
In his short spaceless life Discordant happiness plays foul, A missed chance heavy price demands. He sought another that never was for him As he feared his utter laziness And never spelt her adored name Before eastern Sun broke forth…..
In a box with rusty padlocks in a corner of my head, Are the broken toys of a childhood, laid to rest in premature separation. Drowned emotions and strangled feelings, together dressed in black, Are shadows of an inquisitive soul
I want to be part of something Something greater than I Something that will continue to live when am gone I want to live for something something that will change the world something that will promote humanity I want to
Path taken, not the end, End taken, not a real road to travel, The path taken, not the best, Change the path, again, Darkness rings the bell again, The light from the lighthouse missing again, The caravan goes again, Path
The mysterious rival: suffering of resignation. I am reading myself for the surrealism of life, juxtaposition of love and hate. Another blast went off. White rose and black rose in the same garland; ruins of truth were older than lies.
The moral dilemma was unlearning. less than truth. Downgrading the- branded witch. Vaccine was spawning new virus. O Buddha, why did you started looking beautiful and began sitting in a living room? Trailing the smoke I was going to find
The bones are brittle as are the thoughts they crumble events of yesterdays that never happened things that happened not remembered today becomes another time faces and events mingle become a crazy quilt He sits and stares unaware of a
Sleepless nights Arms melting in a void Words refuse to shape up A poem wide awake by my side Charming solitude Around me… Nothingness Surround me… Darkness breathes in slow trance A constant sermon of silence Invisible moments dissolve quietly
Fathers are trees whose roots are so deep and strong that we cling to them for ever Eventually we get lost into them that gives a different pleasure Now when my father has gone far away from me desire of
He halted.. Snuffing the air, he turned tail and galloped off. Still, Without much delay, We gallantly dragged our efforts; shooting at the poor beast in hot pursuit I was unwilling in this sport. In my heart of hearts I
owl cries out… can you hear the messenger? poised in the dark- call in the light light is consciousness manifestation is simply consciousness in form as love steps into its own heart it awakens a soul within a form creation