romanticindeed
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The firmament of a woman,An idle focus,On ever-idler blood,Her heart holds the face of swelling sadness,A music that describes miseryIn untold tempests,With waves that roar against her form,And tears that beckon their coming upon simple cheeks.What flame has been extinguished?What pair of eyes no longer look? What seeming fault,Have I been elsewhere to overlook?What denial…
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Myself was broken in one,My heart is broken into smallest pieces,At this very moment.And I would love to kissThe lips of tragedy.It is not as urgent,As to kiss the lips of quietness,To calm this groaning heart. Your face of mine,With kisses tender,Kisses quiet,Kisses soothing.It was a matter of factTo my mind,That I’d be able to…
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Outside my reachWas a love,Was a heart of a woman,Was the kiss of a life,It would not happen.It would not happen. And I am filled with the grief,Of a thousand eternities,With this pain to my heart.This poet’s hand of mine,Is disallowed to swipe a tear,He swipes syllables,And writes them dear,Writes them with fear. I have…
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Stuck upon the stare,I am.With swollen grief, so aware,To the current AutumnAnd its fountains of frost.The mist pushes my heart closed,And I feel all surrounding pain.All surrounding, alike the air I breathe,As it is the same, within. Love was my currency,And my feast.Love was my heart,And its attack upon my heart.Now it flows like the…
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A bled wound upon the pageSeeks to rewrite virginity,In the named events to this day.I am something of a man,Loyal to loyalty.You were something of a woman,Loyal to realism’s mind.And I foresaw a place embeddedIn the white garb of a veil,In nothing uncertain for what I decidedWould only be my dream. My heart now bleeds,Flesh…
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I’d be compassionate and merciful enough, to hold back a woman from such a diseased realm, as the “political world”. It is never a “restriction from rights”, in my mind, as a woman can do all she wishes. Though, if something like a man’s compassion, or his way with mercy, or his way with empathy,…
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What does a man deserve most, from his loving woman? It would not be sameness, being the same desiring from before love ever laid petals in his heart. That same desiring being respect, the advancement of his ego; he does not want this. It is forgiveness, that which a man desires most. In his heart…
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To what you said, on the yesterday,I now recoil at the memory.My mind will not stay still, my tears will not stop flowing.My body shudders, while my hands shake,My fears are what flood the Earth, with all of everythingI knew to be, the utmost tragedy. Where was God, in my place,Where was love, for my…
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Society will dub freedom to be eternal, meant to be eternal, and yet the sun at its Zenith, remains that way to look upon the Earth, for but an instantaneous moment. Upon the time of 12:00 P.M., within every nation, in every time zone, there is when the sun has reached its peak of height,…
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As I believe it to be, the essence of the poet, of all poets, is to understand. There is no bias, ever possible, from the poet. The poet finds it to be a crime to lie, a very immoral dilemma he or she’d commit upon themselves. Like a lash to the skin, it would be…
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Threads weaved about, curves among blessed curves,A small pup in your shadow,You’ll scorn the thing to its hiding,With lips made of scarlet stripes.To some painter with his wielded brush,To some sculptor with his hands in the white,To each golden bit of skin, with golden highlights,In satin and velvet, there is you, with face full of…
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Herein is a sickness that succumbs the mind to its brutality. The addiction. The drug, as the addiction, is the intake of sheer pleasure. Wherefore does not a song, during today’s time, speak of love to be a drug, and not the cure to woe? Love cures the heart, whereas a drug plagues it with…
Modern Romanticism 