Romantic Poems
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Due for the Delicate Kiss A Drawbridge to You Love’s Wishbone A Celebration of Love and Drunkenness When Fire Shares its Words Withdrawn and Withheld To Brush a Tear Aside Lust has an Open Image My Eyes Show Tears Alive, and Unwell Candles Melting Against Blossomed Breast Grant Him His Fortune Love, by Sunrise Beautiful
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Above ground,You were grand, with eyes like the emerald watersOf two distant ponds.And, you had the clearest vision, as a woman of realism.And me, a man of idealismDrew fantasies in curves, and grew obsessiveOver our love’s successiveNature to disasters. I became the savior for you,As you had winter for blankets,And I removed themFor the summer
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Sometimes, upon when I lay my headAtop a pillow, I will see the edges of your formTaking shape at the foot of my bed. I see the tears that begin to floatAway from my eyes,And you’d catch them, with hands open for their approach. What will you sayWhen the day comes,When you will see me
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Her tears were for my cup,To count of every drop.Her eyes were the lakes for me to dip my feet,And to bathe within their frozen stare.Her pain and her sorrowWill last for every tomorrow. My beating heart,And her legs that walkThe miles across landscapes wet with the contentsOf her bleeding spirit.My beating heartResonates not with
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Track meUpon the pathTo safety,So that I may kiss your sweet lipsFor that one solitary moment in peace. I gave up my lifeTo see you safe.I gave up everythingTo make you proud,And I have nothing left, but the pieces to carry. Would I stab them in your heartIf you’ll allow me?Would I choke you in
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All vow to watch you bowDown to feast upon the grapes made from wax,And blow delight upon the sightOf ornamented delicacies from your heart made of silver.You will feel when we’ve already sealedDeep inside our minds, with the time we will unwind,So that you can walk in that gait we’ve left behind. Denial is a
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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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I once craved the song,The words from her parted and heavy mouth.The little seeds that I bled into her womb,Were only the lives I slew away to the tomb.I once craved the song,The grave where I felt her belong.She was a mere ghost laying heavyAlike the lips, that were too, parted and hanging,Like the two
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Beauty recedes with the push of timeAgainst its frail and vulnerable form.Alike when you called the breath of my sigh, to rub itselfAgainst your worn cheeks,Against where teardrops leakThemselves, downwards to your polished, ruby lips. We are both frail, with few things to remember,So why do you desire to see all else, corroded by blackness?A
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Awakened, he was, by the final sigh,Pleading to the wind, as a miserable goodbye.One lucid dream, transfers to the next realm,And whatever love was takenIn her enclosed arms,To that Heaven, beyond,Where life shifts and stirs aboutIn the frozen open. Death has a face for two kisses,One for either hand, shielding the cheeksIn what crystal tears
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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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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 evenlyFrom thy brimming shoulders, bared to be touchedBy my rotting fingers.You descend from the slope, from the mountainWith as much precision allotted to
Modern Romanticism 