Modern Romanticism

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

Poem – “The Spiteful Farewell” – Romance – 12/6/2019

December 6, 2019

The grace, had all laid among wastes,
With the taste of blood upon our frozen tongues,
For we could not speak when time was not friendly.
Time was only between us,
Creating a horrid barrier,
A blockade, of sorts,
Tragedy was our craving,
As we both waved
Two syllables from each our hands,
The farewell, that drew us apart.

Full of spite, we were,
Among the debris, we were,
With ice upon our eyes,
And winter stinging our souls,
Here, we shimmer, and distort what reality we knew,
While droplets fall to freeze
From eyes shown in torment.

Leaves quiver and dance,
Beside us.
Agony calls with writhing limbs,
Near to us.
Kisses become engraved in the belly of our beastly selves,
The appetite to every pattern
Of flakes, in the snow.

Love is a splinter
In our skin.
A little pain in the flesh,
Like a thorn turned away from sin
To sunrise.
We crave, enough to save, what will not rot,
Between ourselves and the next love
To eat away.
We bleed, but we stay
Among ourselves, to satiate.


Poem – “A Face to Match Heaven” – Romance – 12/6/2019

December 6, 2019

You’d first lay me down,
To the bloody sea,
Where raises horns from deep below,
A buried empire where fears surely show.
Deny me enough,
Little lady of a void,
Your chamber holds only whispers,
Kindness and mercy
Am I enough for the treasures we’ll both share?
Am I true to the blessings we’ll both wear?

An eagerness, of sorts,
Of grace, and faces nestled between,
The thoughts of a one I know so well,
Kisses were empty from each one,
Pink and red lips, that dwell
In a heart of mine, not so clean.

I dance with you in my arms,
And hold a face that requires kiss after buried kiss,
And I know where my Hell has gone,
While I hold my Heaven.

Poem – “You are the Grandest thing Alive” – Romance – 12/6/2019

December 6, 2019

Foiled by a pen,
Wrote a word too embedded in love,
Sunk the tip of the quill deep in the ink,
And marked my heart,
Words that should raise,
Though thwart
My heinous mind.

Fairy of the night,
With wings that shed flakes of snow,
There is, for you, a palace you should know.
It was for when we created peace,
By a night dipped in passion,
Eyes upon Heaven,
And bodies burned in Hell.

We shed dew into a new morning,
And made honey in our embrace.
Love brought time, apart,
While we danced the bed to start
A reverberation,
A cherishing,
A longing.

Love grows like thorns upon the rose,
While lust sinks the petals to wilt.

Kiss me, once more, as I write this verse,
Kiss me with the memory of when we first conversed.

Poem – “A Love Descending a Staircase” – Romance – 12/6/2019

December 6, 2019

Upon me, and over me,
With blueish contrast from thy beaming eyes,
To the tresses that rock over thy neck,
Like a galleon that weens itself through,
The fine waves and random gulls.

Romance sprouts so evenly
From thy brimming shoulders, bared to be touched
By my rotting fingers.
You descend from the slope, from the mountain
With as much precision allotted to thee.

With a face true and whole,
Filled inside a heart, cold and cruel,
And I still love thee,
My love,
Although, you’ve become something else.

A boulder that falls from the highest precipice,
To a void, my heart,
To fill the gap, the hole,
And thou will descend,
With eyes facing downwards to where I kneel.

Like a mermaid and like a siren,
Thou calls to me, sings to me,
Until Heaven, and its angels show their envy.

Poem – “A World formed by a Kiss” – Romance – 12/6/2019

December 6, 2019

Decorate me
In your golden tresses,
And rain upon me
Your tears of nectar.
I see so much sweetness in our minds,
Released emotions upon the world’s green forests,
As we breathe each other’s scents,
We are so very simple.

Death cannot come to us,
When life makes us comfortable.
In arms, we will dance, and dance, forever,
Beautiful, in our marriage, in our love,
In our peace, from wildest doves.
So small, that you are,
With arms that extend like birch boughs,
And so lovely with your mouth that whispers.

Like the wind with its caress
Against skin that seemed too cold.
Make me music, with your sighs,
And let us never say “goodbye”.
For I find you to be as beautiful,
As the death that surrounds limitless children
Without mothers of their own,
But deserving the embrace,
Still more,
And stilled, again,
We are,
By our grace and love.

Poem – “A Timeworn Kiss” – Romance – 12/5/2019

December 5, 2019

Why had love grown
Past the thorn that we thought was higher
Than the top of your crowned head?

You are the woman with feeling abound,
And the bitterness that surrounds
My mouth,
Was from your timeworn kiss,
From smallest lips
Dripping with the yellowest poison,
Displaying the fever between us.

A fever, a warmth,
Alike the sun, alike honey.
Alike the sweetness from what kisses we could have
For the other, for each other.
We were beautiful,
Upon a time,
Upon an area in the past.
Nine petals,
Droop evenly over your mouth.

From a flower, you did pluck,
And it carried its venom,
For you to drink, like wine from a glass.
And I kissed,
I kissed, again,
Dove into your mind,
And saw something unlike my kind.
And as my future becomes something without you,
I see your shape, your shadow, dying on the horizon.

Poem – “The Art of Grieving” – Romance – 12/5/2019

December 5, 2019

I hold one wicked smile,
Within one shattered palm,
As I have tamed it,
Made it a name,
In my house of sculptures.
Beauty and conscious mind,
Suffering from my delusions,
Becomes paranoia,
And complete fear,
Because, there is a state of agony
To behold, before me.
A place for me,
Next to Satan, in my house of martyrs.

Beauty and beauty,
Becomes foiled at my touch,
Turns to dust, upon my command,
Turns to dust at the flick
Of one misused brush.
I am an artist,
Of Hellish creation,
Beauty is my name,
A little face with many stains,
As God could grant me wisdom,
Were He to not see my face en-grained.

I draw blood-streaks
Upon my eyes,
And upon my arms,
I draw cuts in diagonal shape,
In infamous patterns
Alike my mind,
With all the torment I could allow to take form.

Where is my Heaven?
Where did it leave me?

Poem – “A Terrible Struggle with Forgiveness” – Romance – 12/5/2019

December 5, 2019

I thirst for the moment
When I can peel back the skin from my tongue,
And see,
Only what I could not reach forward for
In the dimming haze of this winter forest,
But only what I had tasted,
Being the rain of different droplets,
From different places on this Earth.

Death and denial,
Have an eternal place,
A marriage in Hell,
A hand waving farewell.
There is, in me,
The longing, to see,
What had been broken,
Upon a time in history.

Love and betrayal,
Pain and this denial,
To see myself,
Shattered in the mirror of envy,
Where I had crossed different landscapes,
Full of rivers of every flavor of tear,
From eyes, as high, as the sky,
As high as the ethereal blue.

My struggle with forgiveness,
Is in placing these hands to rest,
Beneath the sand, and the soil, too.

Love is a mask,
For my emotion,
For only a demon resides beneath it.

Poem – “The Death that Obeys our Hearts” – Romance – 12/5/2019

December 5, 2019

Upon highest waters,
Where the currents match our tears,
We were once in arms, tragic and long
Like the moon with its great form,
Bleeding newness into night,
So that the sun may greet the pale
With its roaring hues.

All I feel,
Is this fiery pain,
While a grave sleeps beside me,
It had started before me,
And now slumbers, continuously.

Every gray field
Of any lonely winter,
Makes music upon my old and worn soul.
Women and their hair, like spider’s nests,
Men and their ambitions, to Hell and back,
Caught in the scents,
Of tress after fragrant tress.

And of my beauty,
And her heap of sadness?
Her tears are the dew of any morning.
So wild, do they fade
With the tide beneath me,
At my ankles,
And soon,
At my wrists.

Poem – “Hardened Blood, like Coated Frost” – Romance – 12/5/2019

December 5, 2019

My face and mind,
As my eyes stare so blind,
I believed in a love who did not awake
To see,
Me, in terrible suffering.
Famous, though mild,
Crude, though wild,
She was the stench of filth,
And terrible bliss.

My own beauty,
Where did it vanish?
Where did it leave to,
In this winter of duress?
Among all the pain,
There is hardly any shame,
To weather my ancient body,
For my finger hangs heavy when it points to her.

Little Heaven, above,
As my only light,
There is grace and spite nestled beside,
These old horrors.

My denial of Hell,
My embrace of self,
Are only two worlds apart.
Sentenced for a stay
In her chamber of filth, and loose decay.