Modern Romanticism

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

Poem – “In your Play, among Satin and Velvet Rugs” – Romance – 11/17/2019

November 17, 2019

Threads weaved about, curves among blessed curves,
A small pup in your shadow,
You’ll scorn the thing to its hiding,
With lips made of scarlet stripes.
To some painter with his wielded brush,
To some sculptor with his hands in the white,
To each golden bit of skin, with golden highlights,
In satin and velvet, there is you, with face full of laughs.
I am in love with you,
Dear one.

There are spiders in your hair,
And laughter on your cheeks,
There may be sorrow clinging to somewhere sweet,
So that it no longer shows its teeth.
I find sweetness in every breath of yours,
Dear one,
For I am in love with the fruit,
The apples held close to your bosom,
The pears and oranges, too.
All sweetness, alike you.

There may be something wrong here.
There may be something worse here,
Where you have said,
“No good will come from between us,
No liveliness will sprout from my womb,
No currency to our palms,
Nor the thoughts of ongoing, from our heads.”
And yet, I still love you,
Dear one,
Little one.

I will play along, for the while,
Will you allow me, in our highest disappointment?


Poem – “Curves that Swallow the Earth” – Romance – 11/6/2019

November 6, 2019

Love is a wing, and I have been caressed
By it, by the hip that I hold,
By the lips, bold in red.
By the few lashes that extend far from eyes
That are tinted in bluish contrast.

Beloved, so loved you are, beneath me,
As I am above, I see you,
Your face and your eyes, and your breast
Curves that surround the Earth, as the sun.
Curves that are heated, like when
They were forged, by a blacksmith and his hammer,
And created woman, after woman.

I am blessed by you,
You, and your fiery love.
You and your melodious sighs,
Offered in repetition.
Offered in sequences, offered in turns,
Beloved, come closer, to a place near,
To my heart and its thudding rhythm.

I have shown up among these curves,
Those hips that are alike the extended womb,
Those legs that are alike the Steinway,
Those eyes that are alike the ripples of a lake
Forming tears whenever I kiss you.

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 – “In Love with Lips” – Romance – 11/4/2019

November 4, 2019

In love with an aroma,
That comes from arms that dance in the sun.
In love with cheeks,
That sprout alike the moon, when full.
In love with strands of hair,
That rain upon shoulders and neck.
Though, I am in love with lips,
That bloom the boldest color.

I am in love with lips,
Breathing with the exhaustion in repeated sighs,
Designed by my kind,
And for myself, to crash against their plushness.

Beauty would be a sign of terror,
Were love never giving it flavor.

Poem – “A Simple Pattern in Love” – Romance – 11/4/2019

November 4, 2019

Play for me,
Dear, struggling woman,

Though, our patterns be great,
They seem to turn upon their own command.
I found love upon your own throne,
Upon your own grace,
Upon your own face.
Tears struggle mad to free themselves,
From daily confinement.
Bruised and scorned by the sun,
Patterns grow immense, in all levels of sadness.
I see futures born from all various
Moments in sickness.

Lips are grown, bulbous and ripe,
Upon your face in the ivory.
Scents as old as the ice that crawls
Upon your lingered sight.

Lips as red as the blood beneath your veins,
Bold for my taste, if I could smooth the vast many
Wrinkles, that adorn
Your cherished cheeks.

I struggle madly,
To pinpoint the heartache’s origin,
The love and its flame,
Dances uncontrollably.
And shows to us, a pattern of destruction,
For what it has touched,
In where it has stained,
Above all, we are pained,
As we flourish in our own blood,
And we cover ourselves in frozen love.

The Tena Poems – Truest Love – “Deep Red, is my Heart” – Romance – 11/3/2019

November 3, 2019

Blanket and quilt,
Heart shape and guilt,
Collide upon the other,
In merry do-overs.
Blessed by thee,
Your tranquil beauty.
All so personal to describe,
My heart, in its redness,
And in bluest tears,
I bellow out such oldest rhymes.

We have faced the world over,
In truest terror.
You were upon the strength, I knew to uncover you
From, to see the area beneath yourself,
And to see where I aimed to lay down,
As you nested emeralds upon a crown,
And showed weakness to myself.

As I laid down to look above,
I felt warmth spark,
From this endearing love.
All of pain, in my chest,
All of pain, in my heart,
Blossoms freely,
Plainly, from the start.

My beauty, I feel your skin, so cold against mine,
Nestle your face,
Against this warm heart,
This flaming heart,
My flesh apart,
With my eyes upon thine,
Let us be true, becoming entwined.

Poem – “A Step Back in the Right Direction” – Romance – 10/30/2019

October 30, 2019

Fall upon me, now,
And un-shield your eyes,
That sparkle from the dew of a newest morning,
A cry for aid, when you came astray,
Feeling pain as you did upon the birth
Of our love.

Your mind is a curse for your heart,
Your heart is a feast for my mind.
Your flesh is the place where I part
The breasts, to see where I may carve,
The distinction between love’s breath in time,
For all that I could rewind.

I am in love with a mirror,
Two delicate eyes that reflect
The most diseased memories.
God would raise me to his height, so that I could know,
All the pain of the world, that surely grows.
Denial is a place for the most comforted,
And the most suffering.

I am in love with a mirror
That reflects a distant past.
It glares upon me, in heated romance,
It pours upon me, pain after growing pain.
Do not die for me, as I take this final retreat,
A step backwards in the right direction,
To a place I know well,
A place I do recognize,
As an area kept in Hell.

Epic Poem – “Long Beloved Beauty in Life” – Part One – Romance – 7/8/2019

July 8, 2019

The apocalyptic shadow,
Of my eminent devastation.
My salvation,
Could not have come sooner,
By the noose,
To the box.

To the soil, and attempt to rejoin,
What I had lost.
Was she lifted?
Was she granted,
The heart of God, of any God, of any faith,
Rather than my own, for I failed?

Indeed, I failed, as was my wont.
Accustomed to failure,
And now, she lingers among rot,
As a woman,
As a soul,
As torment in its very incarnation.

What is my music?
It is death, as I see it.
What is my loss?
It was a woman, as I knew her.

What is my frailty?
My guilt, as I feel it,
What is my safety?
The suicide in an evening, guided by a dimming sun.

Oh, pain, empty yourself upon my lashed back,
Afore the pain was ever there,
Afore the lashes were ever struck to bleed,
My back; my love is gone.
And a truce was spoken,
To the nearly-open wind, and bound nothing.