Passion Poems | Examples of Passion Poetry

Your words feel like a hand between my legs making me ache making me crave making me need turning my thoughts to pinned wrists your hand around my throat my legs around your waist holding you deep drowning in your eyes moaning "deeper" Words that take me to the edge and over Words that set me...

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. if i were thuh sand sliding down your ...

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The gate creaked, moaning and groaning to shut, Sealing up, quelling, the bickering blame-game glut. No you can’t sneak around, and jump the fence, With grave looting cries of grief-stricken offense! That won’t work anymore! So don’t strut up on-bail, Clad in your ghostly godforsaken gossamer veil, Claiming it was not your fault, 'cos you told no lie! For snake-eyes have tears...

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. will ya ...

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Passion For Writing Soothing Words. Pen glides across the silk paper. A passion for writing. Ironically the next line. With instrumental music in the back ground. Calming as rain falls. A journey through literature. Tunnel vision with words. Writing through rhythm and harmony. Was I born to illustrate poetry? Black ink bleeds off the pages....

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Has she left me? I wonder. ‘It’ is not the same as it once was— The passion and the playfulness, The tumbling of words Finding appreciative expression. Bereft of ideas, bereft of thought, All my efforts coming to naught. Dreams of she holding me tight Once sparked metaphors deep in the night. Now, it’s ages anything was penned, And this was never how it was...

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Your seawater stirs in me where fire balances high on oil You clasp my candlefire, wick's motioning coil — A sweating kind of missing A burned open kissing The glass shared between us two Flames in our faces as we move To the synchrony past Our dressing these masks These temperatures rising in veins of you and I God, brief tourniquets in time...

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I may have written this for a band to sing, or maybe I just wrote it for me. Maybe it’s for the kids in dirty Vans, or those reppin’ spiked Converse hi tops. To the ones sipping ten dollar lemonades in the merch line? This is for you. ...

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Amidst the colors of a vibrant dawn two eagles soar within their own domains. Each searching for a mate, they're slowly drawn towards the skies which destiny maintains. Their hearts are racing as they near this space for they can hear the cry of rapture’s plea. Within this realm two mighty birds embrace, becoming one...

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One wonders of the flexibility of Time… 3 minutes hardly enough, or the perfect egg -- Our times together never seeming enough and the parts away, painfully protracted, occupant of my every reason -- Sentiments, of course, can’t be canned, bottled or frozen; no shelf-life for the heart deprived – a mystery why I even wear a watch? never checked when with you an eternity without you…....

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Bold claim, that kiss was just for fun. Right now you are to blame. Lips like a loaded gun, who taught you how to aim? Whispers cocked in automatic, you gave me the shivers. Caught up in your static, perhass we're both givers. One night, you said it was a test. With the prose I recite, turned out I was the best. You love the...

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Passion and purpose Purpose and passion Tell me what happens When you find joy and fulfillment Does your soul starts laughing? Alive is to thrive as to prosper Is to provide. Like a tooth that is loose You feel free expressing your truth. To think is to believe as to achieve is to succeed. I am too much for you to handle Because you and...

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Her skin drinks light like rivers take rain, each dappled edge and sun-struck curve, a landscape under my hands, soft yet severe, where desire meets the edge of breath. Fingers trace the small hollows of her hip, catching sunlight in each soft valley, dipping, trembling, as if they might slip into some dark, endless tenderness. She is a map of quiet fires, a fever...

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hearts wobbled ^ felt sick < ...

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One must master the rules before breaking them -- it is like that, especially with poetry: One learns to logically manage the spaces~ what isn't said, the pauses and non verbal connective feels -- The novice often says too much or is so obliquely obscure that he or she makes senseless attachment with others -- Fine fabric of poetry closer the frayed edges of language,...

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