Men
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I cannot decideWhat to hideWhen I falter beneath what stirs me. Your beauty has hues, not alike the sun,And most unlike the shimmers in the rain.It has more brightnessThan ever a sunshineOr sun-shower.Brightness, that stings me, though soothes me;Brightness, that burns me, though soothes me;Brightness, that churns me, though soothes me,And I am still here…
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Tired of all,When yearning to crawlAlong fields sprayed with your tears.Here is beauty,And there is sceneryFor me to weep over, in view of your slumber. Your darknessFights me off,Intrudes upon my light,The comfort I’ve aimed to grant. I have placed roses for you to wieldLike swords in this very field,To cast fire along the presence…
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Poetry is but a glimpseTo your feeble story.Woman, who was once my beloved,My treasured soul,My song,My emotions,And, my mind;All has now fled far from me. Your eyes, a twinkle of starlight,Beside your cheeks, the porcelain sheetsThat were made as the bed to lay my kisses,Once adorned with pitiful tears. What is the causeTo your untimeliness?Where…
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In all the time, I had thoughtThe tears to be worth their sour taste,I was wrong in my mind, to knowThat in our place,There would be eternity. Love is a power against the impossible,And yet,I do not want to border myself on obsession. It is a madness thatMakes both those who reject it, and embrace…
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The door betweenOur stamped feet,While our forms rise out of bases,Sent forth towards the skies,Sent forth towards the blue,While our tears keep raining. I do not see what is outside of a windowAs the blissful blue of summer.Only the navy of lonelinessHas ever been my bitter kiss. And now there is a door before me,And…
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Near the windowsill where you wept,While the wood still keptThe stains of reddest tears,Because, your wrists didn’t agreeWith the color of blueThat drained from the sky. Near the windowsill where you slept,And I’m still with the memory of a facePainted by sadness, despite my gladness,For your betrayal was a kindness upon the Devil’s door.And, when…
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Open yourself up to meWhen you close your subtle glare,And point your deceitful direction, at the dagger to your womb.Allow your sorry stare to accompany itUpon when ecstasy reaches its height.Leave a sigh to my words,The one word,The lonesome word,That touched you deeper than this. Pledge your pain to me,Oh woman, of many nights in…
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All I wishFor you to doIs to say you want to live. For you seem to want to die,And leave memories behind. Is depression truly this deliciousThat you’ll forget what pleasures we hadIn times where comfort was wieldingIts own sword? A sword against poverty.A sword against insecurity.A sword without restraintAgainst the darkest currentsTo push them…
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Within every bird, there is a song.But, yours seems to be missing.Figment of my little imagination, and I am deluded,But, the waves crest as your breasts,And the tides recede along your abdomen,So I go, to place my hands like the sculptor’s wayTo make sure a woman need not feel dismay. Your song shall be savedBy…
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What is thisBetween elongated limbs?What is this short figure, that does no longer kiss?It merely stares. I carved a portrait, from dust,And made a heart flutter, with rust,And, with a face I’ve come to love,Here it is, never knowing what’s above. It peers at meIn arms as cold as its gaze.It does not move,But, weeps…
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The arriving timeTo see my fortune set in line,Set upon the traveled roadPlaced with the stones once cast at my limbs,And I walk over them. I see your searing pain, at the end of this long pathThat does not twist,For I’ve no other feelingFor this lonely world,Where only the sigh of the wind, guides me.…
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Love must have a way for usIn its seeming abyss.We are a wilderness apartStanding as stone statuesCarved by ravenous hands,Full of lust in how they trembled,And why do I feel you weep? Like the rain against my windowpane,I hear you cry along with the wind.Your repeated sighs,Makes me question why.It makes me question your current…
Modern Romanticism 