Jackal love poems and/or love poems about Jackal. Read, share, and enjoy these Jackal love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems or see our other Jackal Poems.
HGarvey Daniel Esquire
There is no beating in this hollow, heinous Heart
Eternal empty eyes emitting, inexcusable iniquities
Jutting juxtaposed jackal jaws, tearing Love apart
Anathematize abandoned, always forgive Atrocities
This is how I live, how I grow, how I stay in control
To be Continued
Inspired by TPS’ blog “Integrity“; this is the Liege you do not see
Dedicated to those who do not believe, like me
Scott Howard Myers The Gypsy King
Born beneath an old Elm tree, nourished from the teats of a Jackal, sired by the Devil himself.
He knew who he was.
He was pain.
Where he walked, he inflicted the same.
Bringing forth residual shame, was his favorite game.
This man named Pain, with worldwide fame.
Invisible to most, but felt by us all.
As when your skin does crawl.
His only intent, was to make love fall.
From behind his invisible wall.
The Demons do call.
For one and all.
So when you hear that man's name.
It's no accidental, bad luck game.
He turns health into lame.
The Devil and son are the same.
This man called Pain.
Mandal Bijoy Beg
forgiveness, life, love, mystery, passion,
By her tongue, honey gold,
Tipped with steel lashes;
Eyes behold with narrowed ire,
Stinging welts; and crashes
Through the barrier of skin,
The naked perimeter fence,
A culture clashes in some
Past or present tense.
Substituting words to heal
With jackal-lipped unkindness,
Juxtaposing dark for light,
My love accepted blindness
At each and every stroke,
By her tongue, poison black;
I forgive and kiss her lips
For all the times she took it back.
decrepit note books
Residential society of poems
hackneyed to ultra fresh thought roams
snail pace of expressions
imbalanced love on tattered ink
lines smile on jackal mustache
through the crystal glass the moon kisses
urban dustbin is empty well
ravens fly on the colorful chicks
ground is shattered field of war
dawn cawing reminds the writing decisions
nothing is outcome of the books
three out of five fingers
one chameleon mind
eyesight combats with insightful arena to lit light
just I reside in these posthumously
note books bear me up anonymously
-Wednesday, June 19, 2019 Chattogram