Profane Poems - Poems about Profane

Caught in the snares of a night divided between the sacred and the profane, where the stars seem to whisper forgotten secrets, I find myself in search of truth, on a journey that parts the veil of self-knowledge, where every tear of light, every shadow reveals fragments of an esoteric existence, woven from fragile hopes and deep doubts. Religion, like...

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. for public domain I find no greater joy in all things that be, not in gold, not in learning, not Great Deities, nothing can match the happiness I see in her eyes and her face when she smiles on me. Disappointments and pains I endured in the past, no longer do I flag at the top of a mast, only her...

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I Fear of God was healthy for friends The relationship was it, not ulterior ends II Fear of God is still widely spoken Love of things, brings Promises broken...

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Profane Speech Russel Abdur Rahman There is no history that everyone is blind at night Murk has eye, Lingo and it likes to love with hungrily song And bear pulses of light! Dirty time wouldn’t stable, history will sing changing song It seems imperious habit of a fruitful creation. No history of injuries of the earth only life be injured There is...

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Scared N Holy in profane they entertain Secret societies sacred and arcane built of complex biology with gears in bone crystal blood-borne Hues. Jewels turn upon Silver Springs, gears and string strange things deep inside angel wings. sacred hearts beat within rusted Skeletons ribs encased fluids of the divine life pumps through oblique imagery. Echoing in your...

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We sing “Holy is thy name, O Lord,” Yet attach it to every unsavory word Then euphemizing, we say “gall-durn,” It seems like we will never learn! We pray “Hallowed be thy name,” Forgetting our curses mean the same We even go so far as to say “Holy Sh*t,” And rarely consider what we mean by it. I must plead guilty too often...

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Sacred and profane love by Titian - 1514 Love divine How it burns when it falls from the sky - how it hurts when the water is done. How it rains with the words half-denied, When the world looks for fabulous suns. How it aches when the feeling's away from the roads that are fast and are...

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Visited a psychiatrist, proved to be quite a strain Searched but apologized she couldn't find my brain Told her to keep searching I can hear some chirping Also noticed the chirping was extremely profane...

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Visited a psychiatrist, proved to be a strain She apologized, she couldn't find my brain Told her to keep searching I can hear some chirping Also noticed the chirping was extremely profane...

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Love Love is but a word To describe such an emotion in a four-letter word is the most profane act any human can commit. Love is Love. it cannot be defined by four measly letters. Love is more than art, more than literature, you cannot fully describe it. It is a unique experience, yet anyone who has every been madly in-love knows exactly how it feels Yet, they...

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Love divine How it burns when it falls from the sky - how it hurts when the water is done. How it rains with the words half-denied, When the world looks for fabulous suns. How it aches when the feeling's away from the roads that are fast and are clean. How it roars when the lights...

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She appealed for just having a dignified life. The illiterate sit, their illiteracy pulls them down into darkness and shadow. Let me be the new light, let me have a dignified life. I wish to be one of my kind, don’t control me by your mind. The thing she needed was right motivation. I have my strengths, my talents, and...

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A new home feels slightly pregnant with possibility yet empty of sacred reality Not yet any echoing memories of bumps on stairs, late night scraping chairs stuffed with familiar intimates. Organic warmth sacrificed with each move, attenuation of well aged relationships with a new view, a cleaner character of silence, more unscrubbed inscrutable than mere absence of familiar sounds and sights and savored smells left behind. Each move a commencement toward...

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I see her as the woman on the road, and in the distance just inside her sight, one solitary male approaching—that alone, draws up within her, latent fire and by its warming she must genuflect before the altar of desire. There is a silent passion, holy in its touch, that sparks connection, unexplained. There is electric purity within its cloud that strikes across that...

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A heart quite overpoured is mine. It replicates the breath inspiring purity and art with just a piquancy of lust, expiring endings of romance and promises, of wisdom in the dance that holds decorum back and celebrates the wilds of fancy, balanced by excursions of the moment into love. Two natures reach across the table of my life, and at the moment they are friends. They vie for some...

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