Modern Romanticism

The aspect of romance, divided between the heartening and the thoughtful.

Words of Wisdom – “The Pauper upon the Throne/The Victim upon the Throne/The Wounded upon the Throne, is the Animal on the Throne” – Political Philosophy – 10/14/2019

October 14, 2019

“The start of a Democratic revolution created the dethroning of every Monarch known for every society. All paupers, facing injustice and inequality, comprehended nothing of the word ‘provision’. Any pauper who faces the misery of survival, is never to know the meaning of ‘the offering’. If they have something to give, that would mean they have plenty for themselves. And, most paupers have nothing to give, save for kind stares and warm hearts. Though, to a population under Democratic rule, kind stares and warm hearts do not feed a population. From this, creates greater poverty, under the iron thumb of Socialism.

Paupers, or victims, or the wounded upon the throne of leadership, creates inevitably a nation of consumerism. When a pauper is needy, when a victim is needy, when someone with wounds is needy, they want to consume. Greed is thus the manifestation of that society.”


Poem – “The Redhead with the Glass of Red” – Romance – 10/14/2019

October 14, 2019

Before me, you sit with a sorry stare at a rim
To a glass made of the fibers of sand,
Love is a breath in the air for our breath,
As sweet as the redness in your hair
And as bitter as the very sight of death,
As the very sight of what sticks out in your mind.

A face with eyes engraved,
And hair that blossoms like thorns to roses.
Of those eyes that are either emerald or sapphire,
Alike the Earth or the sky,
Though, I am unable to tell.
Beauty fell upon me like those tides above,
And I was on the cross,
Dying for my own sins.
Your marble face and hair of fire,
Gleaming with random tresses,
Upon your breast,
Folding upon your shoulders.

Love has made us famous,
While our hearts make furious rhythms,
In the dead of this night.
We sit here, to stare at the curves of a glass,
Love is revealed at our left hand,
As hope is in our right.

We’ll deny ourselves as long as we can,
Or death will cast its own ring from shadows,
To place itself upon your fine, marble hand.

Face me, beautiful one,
You are as lovely as the awoken morn,
With hair as red as the liquid that stains your heart,
Upon each repeated sip,
As red as the rays cast away from the sun,
To the meadows of Heaven.

Poem – “One Idle Glance” – Romance – 10/13/2019

October 13, 2019

I crawl atop,
And I falter beneath,
The swimming tears in eyes of emerald,
Your face is the picture of immaculacy,
In this dreaded room.
Come kiss me, beloved,
With all your majestic might,
This future has never been doomed,
Because, as I see above,
I see also the night.

I see the stars and their infinity,
The light that beams upon the back of your scalp,
Is mine for consumption,
As you say,
“Let us pray to a love made of fire,
Forged in our awakening to its light.”
Of night that grants us power of might,
There is to our passion,
The fires that caress, and cleanse the fright.

Your nakedness is a grail of wine,
Sweet with taste, as all is mine,
Bitter in the taste of Autumnal frost,
And sweet in the taste of November showers,
Of sweetest tears, and bitter blood,
You are beautiful, dear one,
I hold you in greatest esteem.

The Tena Poems – Truest Love – “Lay with Me” – Romance – 10/13/2019

October 13, 2019

Lay with me, as the world sunders itself,
Go beyond with me, to the lines that seem themselves
To surrender, and surrender more
To the tragedies and comedies of love.
We are, in arms, crying and laughing, beautiful as one,
In our eyes, we hold sweet nectar,
And also,
Bitterness to the wetness
That smear across cheeks made of powder, porcelain, and ice.
We are only beautiful, when we are raised.

So, we rise,
And surmise, nothing,
We falsify nothing
To the sound of fluttering heartbeats,
And the light tap, of kisses.
Only ever does truth come forth,
From hearts so deep and transparent
In the infinite youth of summertime,
Bodies that are milk-white or dowsed in ebony.
Oh, love! Has it made its way,
To the places so full of dismay?
My love and myself, so strong in our song.

So weak,
As well,
In the permanence,
Of what swells,
In hearts so cold,
And so old,
A warmth, a comfort,
For faces to feel its searing touch,
From fingers that have been dipped
Into the blood of the birth
Of love.

Love is a triumph,
In all times of discomfort.
It embraces,
As it faces,
The facades to pull them off,
And reveal an image of tears.

Poem – “Your Eyes Cast a Burn” – Romance – 10/13/2019

October 13, 2019

Glaring devotion, seems to
Keep you
So warm.
From loyalty, to that burning furnace,
Upon bed sheets made of fans,
To frenzy the flame,
That spreads over your gloss,
A shimmer to your form.

There is beauty crawling atop,
All the fragrance that has me
Succumb to it.

There is nothing so tragic,
As to see beauty’s release,
From love’s state of disease.
For as I lift you to see the Heavens,
Your eyes cast over the Earth,
Light greater than the sun.

There is greatness in each eye,
Though only one stare,
Only one glare,
Has ever been enough,
To scar a burn into my naked flesh,
For us both to see love same as death.

Words of Wisdom – “Love is a Glorious Illness” – Philosophy on Love – 10/13/2019

October 13, 2019

“Love is an ailment, alike the state of dying from any ordinary illness, where we do not want, nor care for, a cure to either its symptoms, its pain, nor the disease itself. It is unlike life, where in that life, where we possess the energy for a voice, to state that illnesses must be cured.”

Poem – “Where is Love?” – Romance – 10/11/2019

October 11, 2019

There is love in the air,
And not much to share.
There is love in the air,
And not much to wear.
There is hatred upon our lips,
And too much to bear.
There is hatred upon your lids,
Drawn down like curtains,
Bruised into black and blue,
Like nude drapery with tears
Upon the fabric.

Upon the arms, once meant to caress,
The woes from a pained child.
Death is now our solace,
As the moon is now our eye,
And love is no more,
Along with the sun, now our scorn.

I create a trail of serpentine gait,
With farewell to a woman,
Who bleeds her own trail,
Full of rose petals.

The Tena Poems – Truest Love – “I Long, and simply Long” – Romance – 10/11/2019

October 11, 2019

I long, and simply long,
For scent of longest hair, and eyes of furthest stare,
We are but two forms upon this Earth,
With steps so shallow in the mud,
And faces so tranquil,
As though starving buds, with quivering temples,
And blasted bodies,
By the wind and sand.

I am in love, and have remained in love,
With distortion to my eager form.

And, I see yours,
Where pleasure implores,
The widest sweeps,
Upon currents next to shores.

I desire all,
From thy Heavenly form.
I know that God,
Had made artisans of truest intent,
And truest skill,
To sculpt what I see,
In pure and utter beauty.

A face so full of life,
With lashes broken like bent needles,
And eyes that swell tears to their surface,
Alike the geysers of the Western States.
And with two cheeks that beg for kisses,
Against each… I do, with all for you,
And for the future, and for eternity,
That I will nestle my fears into thee,
So that you may cradle them,
Like crying children.

I simply do not want to die,
Before I come upon you, frozen,
Before I had said my goodbye,
Allow me to go,
Before you do go,
As I will vanish,
With heartbeat so slow.

Words of Wisdom – “The Idiocy Behind a Choice” – Political Philosophy – 10/10/2019

October 10, 2019

“The idiocy behind a choice is when we can state that the person with the choice can make a choice, merely because they can. In fighting for the choice, we then abandon every shred of wisdom that the human mind has ever explored. As well with that, we abandon sight, and clarity, and most importantly, responsibility and awareness. Those final two things make up the crux of personal leadership, and thus, the family becomes added to negligence. When we fight for the choice, we feel wrong to state that one choice can or should not, be made. We feel jeopardized in our personal decency and ethics in controlling another’s choice. And, in this, we back down from wisdom, and feel fearful enough to never put the hand forward that may stop a foolish friend from doing something that may end their own life.”

Words of Wisdom – “The Excess Fault of Self-Love” – Philosophy on Psychology – 10/10/2019

October 10, 2019

“Where love has a place in a world of perfection, then to see oneself as imperfect would never mean to place love upon the self. One looks into a mirror, one sees obviousness. One sees what one has seen, yesterday. Though, to see another; that poses a risk. Love makes the imperfection, a perfection. Therefore, there cannot be any existence of ‘self-love’ through only the need to ‘accept imperfections’. One can only become perfect, through the love from another. It is the state of completion, over being incomplete. Love fills the void, as it is said. Therefore, to be in love with the self, is to remain imperfect, and never be complete. To see oneself as perfect, flawless, fearless, makes one arrogant and the direct and polar opposite from the loving and empathetic one, as the resentful and narcissistic one.

What, I wonder, were the first humans doing upon this Earth? They were exploring, looking for uncharted land, and most of all, they were looking for other humans.”