Love Poems
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Believe me, as I blew to you,The kisses soaked in tears, and everything new.You are the angel coated in dust,The young woman with wings of ashes,And you’ll fly from one home to the next,You’ll flee to the next pair of arms,That will only hold you as close as the Earth. The little cinders that adorn
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Wishful moments, you hope forTo arise,But, you’ll merely lay your head forward,To cry.To weep the lands infertile soils away,And soon seen the end of days. Your eyes hang heavyUpon all times, when your head sinks on the harbor,When your body sinks on the shoreline,When your face digs into the sand,And your tears soon create the
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An object lesson, seeking any disclosureTo this reminiscence of your naked form,Now bandaged by the treatment of ludicrousy.You were beautiful, in my arms,Showing breast,And whispered fable from two lips of pearl.You told me secrets, that daunted my mind,You closed upon me, pain that would not ever dieWithin yourself.And, outside myself, there is a sceneryOf Hell,
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Beautiful womanWhom all will call as needing aid,The support from a thousand fountains,To drink from. Why do you require moreThan what I offer? Is it merely in a woman’s bloodTo be this expensive?To require this much effortFor your possession? I do not own you,But, I have won you.A golden heart, is what I have taken,And
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The way we both breatheIn the heat of this barren town,Where love falls on deafened clowns,Where their ears cannot fathomThe calls of their laughing sounds,Is the way we sighBy the way we cry upon acknowledgementThat we’ll not ever jestThe way that a clown does.We are merely lies,Among the particles to breathe from sighs. Their way,
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How I love thee, mother of so many embraces,And I’ll cherish thee, with all the spilled many graces.And your hair, that which I see, to reveal how much you care,It is strewn about,Showing your negligence upon yourself,But, where are you to care for you? How I will kiss thee, mother of my Heaven,And I’ll wrap
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I have shared a kiss, with loneliness,And have shared wine, with death, itself.I have felt music play upon my lipsDuring when I was lost, in love’s abyss. I guarded what cannot die,And, I guarded what should not have decayedTo be spread among the four winds,Before the times arrives. My love was a vanishing current,And this,
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What a smile,Upon looking to seeWhat is most Heavenly!Love, as you, has seemed to undoAll the knots in my heart,All the confusions I’ve long embraced,All the heat I’ve long been to laceAround my body and mind. Now you will play as the knitterThe embroider,The simple seamstress,To bind us forever, in eternal togetherness. My own love
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I cry often,Whenever I unearthOldness from coldness.Perhaps a misplaced photograph, suddenly foundBy a heap of dust.I look upon that dust, to next wonder,“Is it you, the flesh of my flesh?” The lady who did die,Was the death that makes me cry.I’ll weep the tears,Staining my barren cheeks,Staining beneath my swollen eyes,And not a single tear,Will
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You plundered the blue,Off what was brand new,And show up as you knewAll to break throughMy heart, with jagged edges.And, it is broken in two,Though, the symmetry was never there,Those eyes of yoursCould never really stare,To see from beyond your falling hairThat coated your face,To notice not even a trace. I am a new manWith
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How is your demise,Appearing, before your eyes?How are those closed lies,Looking, before your closed lids?How is every detail, quitting you,While you remember what is deemedOnly by you,To be necessary for memory? There are many things you should remember,But, you’ll only remember specifics,It is a pathetic way. How is your guilt treating you?Gutting you?Eviscerating you? How
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Bled, we were, upon an ocean gulfTo spread South, to where distant heat resides.And, to heal, to kneel, with eyes upon the sun,And, to feel, to seal, our wounds with our own tears.You have a heartbeat that skipsStones upon the water’s surface.Lost, though found, on death’s own compound,Found, but bound, with Hell to hear for
Modern Romanticism 