PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

No ceremony. I
will walk out from the star―
gazing one day.

The spirit moves
away of body to wear the moon
of a dying sun.

I don't like small birds,
that make loud noises
in hollow trees.

You bend like an
ocean to catch the moon―
in twilight of gods.

To deliver godly
gene I pack your smile
in womb of dry roses.

Who returns the loan
of love given to red eyes
paying back in tears!

For whom the bruised
fingers tap the door of
invincible death?

When the water will
touch the feet of dying earth,
to pay homage?

Man stands in mudhole
watching sunflowers to wilt
with waning sunlight.

The emptiness of
ageing cells seeks a tiger
to maul the house.

Of sizzled dreams.
Why one has to become
ethereal in―

Quest for elixir?
I peel off tangerine's
strange red skin.

A brick by brick for―
repeat of coming wall
in between us.

The ill-faith was
taller than the divide,
searching deceit.

It was not possible.
Something doesn't make
you human again.

Come inside
me and explore god of
fire burning the world.

A miracle was
not the answer. The pathless
trek ends in water.

To live or not
to live like light
in eyes of moon.

I see dark lines
under your eyes. Something
was amiss.

Tears had dried
up. One does not get
even the longing.

To find the missing
letter to tell the desire.
Will you follow me?

Absurd hyphens increase.
Do you get some serenity
from bloodberries?

Cannot hold on―
my lovely rags. Words talk,
hello the pain.

Don't give me aches,
by becoming tall.
I will not change my style.

Not scared. There
was a pause, between
the screams.

There you were
playing with the other truth,
which was not mine.

I was not alone,
buried in your hums.
Pain was my goddess!

The lamb was dead
taking off her coat. I wear
the skin of dandelions
to walk on wet land.

It was frightening
to grow up in light.
You wanted to come out
in dark for gene intimacy.

There were long
shadows of words, which
had their own character
and morality.

The suspense hovers.
The spark ignites the double
kiss when asked, stitching
the break.

In finding myself
anew, I lost you.
Death will not separate fragrance
from the rose.