10 Best Famous Paralyzing Poems

Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous Paralyzing poems. This is a select list of the best famous Paralyzing poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Paralyzing poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of paralyzing poems.

• All Famous Paralyzing Poems

Written by Billy Jno Hope | Half Steps folly cracked the mirror a soul gasping wound voodoo induced vertigo psychedelic blackouts in the cracks between art and blasphemy paralyzing paranoia of becoming the vision that heals cast shadows to douse the flames starved enlightenment i betrayed my muse i wallowed in nostalgic fumes blood clots from yesteryears insurrection mad dissident desire found wanting a rage dissipating in the twilight of friendship a facade evolved.

Written by Robert Desnos | Sleep Spaces In the night there are of course the seven wonders of the world and the greatness tragedy and enchantment. Forests collide with legendary creatures hiding in thickets. There is you. In the night there are the walker's footsteps the murderer's the town policeman's light from the street lamp and the ragman's lantern There is you. In the night trains go past and boats and the fantasy of countries where it's daytime. The last breaths of twilight and the first shivers of dawn. There is you. A piano tune, a shout. A door slams. A clock. And not only beings and things and physical sounds. But also me chasing myself or endlessly going beyond me. There is you the sacrifice, you that I'm waiting for. Sometimes at the moment of sleep strange figures are born and disappear. When I shut my eyes phosphorescent blooms appear and fade and come to life again like fireworks made of flesh. I pass through strange lands with creatures for company. No doubt you are there, my beautiful discreet spy. And the palpable soul of the vast reaches. And perfumes of the sky and the stars the song of a rooster from 2000 years ago and piercing screams in a flaming park and kisses. Sinister handshakes in a sickly light and axles grinding on paralyzing roads. No doubt there is you who I do not know, who on the contrary I do know. But who, here in my dreams, demands to be felt without ever appearing. You who remain out of reach in reality and in dream. You who belong to me through my will to possess your illusion but who brings your face near mine only if my eyes are closed in dream as well as in reality. You who in spite of an easy rhetoric where the waves die on the beach where crows fly into ruined factories, where the wood rots crackling under a lead sun. You who are at the depths of my dreams stirring up a mind full of metamorphoses leaving me your glove when I kiss your hand. In the night there are stars and the shadowy motion of the sea, of rivers, forests, towns, grass and the lungs of millions and millions of beings. In the night there are the seven wonders of the world. In the night there are no guardian angels, but there is sleep. In the night there is you. In the daylight too.

Written by Louise Bogan | Medusa Off that landspit of stony mouth-plugs, Eyes rolled by white sticks, Ears cupping the sea's incoherences, You house your unnerving head -- God-ball, Lens of mercies, Your stooges Plying their wild cells in my keel's shadow, Pushing by like hearts, Red stigmata at the very center, Riding the rip tide to the nearest point of departure, Dragging their Jesus hair. Did I escape, I wonder? My mind winds to you Old barnacled umbilicus, Atlantic cable, Keeping itself, it seems, in a state of miraculous repair. In any case, you are always there, Tremulous breath at the end of my line, Curve of water upleaping To my water rod, dazzling and grateful, Touching and sucking. I didn't call you. I didn't call you at all. Nevertheless, nevertheless You steamed to me over the sea, Fat and red, a placenta Paralyzing the kicking lovers. Cobra light Squeezing the breath from the blood bells Of the fuchsia. I could draw no breath, Dead and moneyless, Overexposed, like an X-ray. Who do you think you are? A Communion wafer? Blubbery Mary? I shall take no bite of your body, Bottle in which I live, Ghastly Vatican. I am sick to death of hot salt. Green as eunuchs, your wishes Hiss at my sins. Off, off, eely tentacle! There is nothing between us.

Written by Emily Dickinson | One Blessing had I than the rest One Blessing had I than the rest So larger to my Eyes That I stopped gauging -- satisfied -- For this enchanted size -- It was the limit of my Dream -- The focus of my Prayer -- A perfect -- paralyzing Bliss -- Contented as Despair -- I knew no more of Want -- or Cold -- Phantasms both become For this new Value in the Soul -- Supremest Earthly Sum -- The Heaven below the Heaven above -- Obscured with ruddier Blue -- Life's Latitudes leant over -- full -- The Judgment perished -- too -- Why Bliss so scantily disburse -- Why Paradise defer -- Why Floods be served to Us -- in Bowls -- I speculate no more --