Love Poems
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Too many sighs were in our mirror,Blowing the kisses that would pledge nothing.Gratitude was upon your naked lips,As shadow once drained from your eyes.This mind of mine, is miserable,As I’ve forced it to be. A dreadful field of longing and plight,Is now before our very sight.The woman you are, is now the girl you’ve become,Without
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Have you found what you needed mostBeneath the star and tinsel?We both once shared hands, to dive withinThe sea and its shining surface,So that we could send kisses to each other’s faces,Beneath that blueness,Beneath that openness.And yet, we stand beneath the tree with its most mournful appearance,And gaze with eyes upon each lit bulb, each
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Barren,Like our heart of hearts,With love as butter upon its red smoothness,Like the softest bread,And as beauty will raise itself, so will it, as well,Also fall.And as I see your eyes with their shimmering shape,I seem to not be allowed to peer furtherInto them,For they strike me as the daggers,Or the torch,Lifted to burn away
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Had that pillow caressed your feeble headMore than ever my hand could?In such comfort that death could provideTo your ever-more feeble bodyWith its trembling motions, alike the quivering leaves during Autumn,I see your chest raise itself, to a peak,And fall down,You may be ill,Though, you are in comfort. And, I am jealous of death,“To have
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Believe the beast who cried,“My shape is not how it should seem,Because, I belong in the arms of another,And not the arms of shadows!” Torment came over the beast who gnawed at its arms,A man with but a shadow for a reflection.One gaze into the mirror,And a silhouette was all to notice,Of himself,And of the
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Together, and nowWhen we will allowOurselves, to spit upon the blight,The doubt,That held us back,There is green upon the leaves, when autumnal frost still cakes them.I am in belief, that this love will flourish, with a crown of blood droplets,Rubies, tears from the form,And sapphire, tears from the face.We are together, in arms, forever…To bleed
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A night without the embrace from thee,Is a night I’ll never be desperate to see,Upon the time when you return from across the waves,To see the defiled me,And know that the sun has run from me.The sun, as you, my created light,A single candle that stands with tapered form,And a wrist that is scarred from
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“Where else would time take us?”Said the man, disavowed.The little child at his feet, wished it could see,For with blinded eyes, it only groped,And was seen no differentBy that man.Because, the child was poor. A woman full of buttons to her cloak,Garbed in elegant modesty,Swam in the hatred from a man’s disgrace.Her child, singing with
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I knew to love,What was trusted deeplyTo the nuptial part of our romance,Before an altar with primrose and tulip,And the sight of Christ upon our faces. And, it was yours he shared the most attention,As you wept, among the repeated sighs,To the warm wind of this summer height.A little droplet of morning dew nested beneath
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A mind made with shelves, adorned in the booksThat read the past with much awareness,And a heart that recedes with the tideOf a bloody sea.No fault could ever welcome itselfInto your open arms,For you possess a form,That outdoes even the sea with its many currents,And many curves,From cresting waves. I am in love with a
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The distilled honeyFrom a thousand flowersThat blossomed nectar,To meet the sun,And shone there,High above,In the early noontide of this spring day. I came awayTo see thee,And soon set upon a pathIn a forest of green,Lost and unawareTo my motions,For they were as your own. Stumbling through these narrow pathwaysBeneath feet covered in stone,I groped for
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I filled my eyes with the droplets of joyTo believe in you,During when I had believed in you,The delicate iris for my eye.With each petal I had then pluckedTo the greatest farewell,And the shortest goodbye. Your beauty was the sun,And the moon, combined.Resplendent, as a radiant star,And how I could hold you, when you were
Modern Romanticism 