Modern Romanticism

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

Poem – “Why do I feel Pain?” – Romance – 11/9/2019

November 9, 2019

Why do I feel pain,
When I am meant to feel love,
When I am meant to feel strong?
It is like the sun in my chest,
Creating my weakness,
Creating my heart,
Creating the start,
To a long road, ahead.

Why don’t I feel strong,
And all I feel is pain?
It is a weakness, a sickness, a knowing
To know what isn’t meant to be known,
A longing to know,
What is never meant to be known.
A fear in the future,
So unlike reality.
And beauty stares at me with a cross upon her heart,
I share an arrow to rip through it.

Love is hot, and cold,
It is the mixture of expectation,
And the unexpected.
The coincidental and the ironic,
Put together,
In heartstrings like tendrils
Of embedded flame.
I am annoyed with myself.


The Tena Poems – Truest Love – “Upon the Day you Arrive” – Romance – 11/6/2019

November 6, 2019

Upon the day when you arrive,
Adorned in something fragrant,
Dressed in something treasured,
It could be only love between, the threads of a garment,
The threads of a worn heart, of a torn heart,
That I’ve promised to mend,
So much alike the garments, I’d do away with,
So much alike the pain, I’d do away with.

Upon the day when you will climb
The reaches of our love,
I will be there to support
Your golden legs and the very home of heart
We’ve sworn to protect,
We’ve sworn to defend,
Beloved, allow my kisses to be swallowed whole,
Among all the beauty that’d never cease to be.

Face me, and I’ll treasure you,
Upon when you complete your climb.
Know that I’ve kept you strong,
As you’ve done the same.
I’ve nested a single seed,
In a small heart,
Where so much hurt has taken place,
And I will raise you, to even newer heights.

Upon the day when you arrive,
I’ll always be the man to see you survive.

Poem – “Draped Lids over Blue Skies” – Romance – 11/5/2019

November 5, 2019

Death has made you majesty,
While I weep aloud melodies.
I once saw the weeping sky, and now,
I weep strewn tears to your closed lids.
I once brought my hand out an open window

To feel the droplets,
And now,

That sky has closed, along with yours.
A sky has been buried, and shut,
Your eyes, and above.

There is dew along the petals,
Droplets of rain, from a nighttime’s shower,

Yet, though they were Springtime showers,
Of those I could eagerly call myself,
To feel,
And now,
They are the droplets of a cold November.
Skies as bleak as the evening this occurred,
When you puled, not alike yourself,
Though, wept alike me, alike the droplets of November.

My beauty, with your icy form.
Please become warm, wherever you are embraced.

Poem – “The Agitated, Forlorn Lover” – Romance – 11/5/2019

November 5, 2019

My dear, you’ve kept building what ought to be thrown
From the highest precipice,
To the furthest ocean,
And rent apart by waves acting as hands.
Hands from God, hands from Satan,
We are beloveds, always in arms, though I am angered.
I am angered by a world,
By a world that knows to seize
Love, at every opportunity,
And replace it with the utility,
Of industry.
Please deny me your place among the stones,
Among the rocks, by the sea,
For I am without longing to plea,
Longing to see,
Without the tears,
All that has made us timeless in each embrace.

Those waves, those currents, those shores,
Cannot be what they are, when you are vaster.

Poem – “As My Tears Water the Earth” – Romance – 11/2/2019

November 2, 2019

In what I see, is nothing more than the drenching,
From the skies, being my eyes.
My face is sometimes,
The kind wing,
Though also the harsh leather.
I see Earth beneath my feet,
And I have crushed many cities,
My guilt resonates as something I’ve condemned.

I’ve said upon guilt,
“Let yourself free from me,
For you are free,
And so should I be.”
It would not listen,
It remained still in torturing me,
And would not let me flee,
From its fires of misery.

Bold gestures from my mouth,
Rain the screams, uncouth.
What rains the most,
Are the tears that water the Earth,
My own that water the Earth,
I’ll always measure my worth,
Making faces full of pain,
And utter syllables of shame.

Poem – “Your Curvature Alike the Earth” – Romance – 11/2/2019

November 2, 2019

Pale skinned woman, and blue eyes of the North,
Fill the Earth with your pleasure,
For you have captivated me.
I see newness in every shape,
Each origin to what I have attempted
To ever forget.
Death deals upon me a greater restraint,
Than ever love did.

Your face and searing eyes,
That burn holes in my own.
Uplift me to the highest of Heavens,
Raise me,
From where Hell once called me.
Burn through me,
The memories to the buried flame,
Of love and its shelter.

Beauty is a place only for yourself,
Death is a place that subdues myself.
My mind is a world that seeks after the cure,
And I plead for love’s wings to ever be pure.
I see thee,
Beneath ornaments upon wreaths,
As water trickles from your feet,
And beauty is all I see.

Flesh is all I remember
In the now.
Truth is what I dismembered,
With the vows.
And love will be what saves me,
Here and now,
As I stoop myself beneath thee,
And take a bow.