Within this collection, the reader will discover the words of a young man, whose personal life has experienced the up and down avenues of love. Like a heart, love has beats and rhythm. Love is the feeling that has us stay for those patiently awaited moments. Love is timeless. Romantic poetry is a way to express thoughts and feelings through words that the reader feels as though they are experiencing the moment with the author. As we are attentive to the words from the one we love in our lives, it can be the same with “A Slender Little Romance”.– Peter A.W. Wyatt
- 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- Withdrawn and Withheld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 with, Beautiful without
- Love Holds the Stars Upright
- Break Me Away
- The Patterns in your Eyes
- Holding you, in Arms
- The Cracks within Me Smile
- Sweet Maiden’s Breath
- A Thrown Line Down a River
- Your Kiss Meant Everything
- A Taste of Love
- The Entrance of Love
- Your Sweetest Flavor
- A Bridge between Hearts
- The Lifted Veil
- With your Eyes comes the World’s Tears
- Like The Hell that had been Patient
- Do not Die, before my Farewell
- Two Areas to Kiss
- Too Much Feeling to Burn
- The Olden Love
- To Dare Resist
- Beneath My Light
- A Genius of the Heart
- Love Has Two Little Marks on your Neck
- Too Many Tears upon Earth
- A Poet’s Failure
- With Everything Golden about You
- The Red in our Eyes
- A Dying Radiance
- What a Bereavement in this Empty Place
- Beauty Reflects in the Stillness
- Why do you Cry?
- Tell Me who you Love
- Hysterical, Now
- Your Face Reminds me of Glass
- Dress your Eyes with Morning Dew
- Pain I can only write about
- Do you Fight for Love?
- Beloved in the Dark
- Leave Me Transcendent
- A Noose for Drop of Rain
- Without You, I am Nothing
- Something Fragile in your Heart
- Some Time, my Love
- A Broken Set of Eyes
- Eyes that Leave Heavy Streams
You were grand, with eyes like the emerald waters
Of two distant ponds.
And, you had the clearest vision, as a woman of realism.
And me, a man of idealism
Drew fantasies in curves, and grew obsessive
Over our love’s successive
Nature to disasters.
I became the savior for you,
As you had winter for blankets,
And I removed them
For the summer to cloak your bare shoulders.
Love controls the monarch
Most responsible with his wealth.
My wealth was a heart,
But, it would not buy our way past fate.
I grew to despise you,
For something you never did.
Where is my love?
It is now a pain
I am unable to avoid,
With grief that weighs heavily on my fingers.
Sometimes, upon when I lay my head
Atop a pillow, I will see the edges of your form
Taking shape at the foot of my bed.
I see the tears that begin to float
Away from my eyes,
And you’d catch them, with hands open for their approach.
What will you say
When the day comes,
When you will see me alive, only clinging to life
By a narrow thread?
What shall you feel
Upon when the day arrives
To see me come home
To a nest full of embers, as my only abode?
I see you as the edges, at the end of a world where we had nestled,
And my blood grows cold
At the sight of you, merging in with the greenish mold.
The decay of a place,
Has left me without a trace, of where to cast a solid stone.
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 sorrow
Will last for every tomorrow.
My beating heart,
And her legs that walk
The miles across landscapes wet with the contents
Of her bleeding spirit.
My beating heart
Resonates not with her collapsed mind.
Plagues of dew
Are so very new
To my own sight, on the rocks that cling themselves
To her bare throat,
Where the ocean motions itself
Against such hardness, with such coldness.
Love was once between us,
As the warmth, to hold the sun in our arms
Like a babe with innocence to share.
Like two stars that softly fade,
Among a world destined to never miss
The greater coldness among the warming kiss.
Upon the path
So that I may kiss your sweet lips
For that one solitary moment in peace.
I gave up my life
To see you safe.
I gave up everything
To make you proud,
And I have nothing left, but the pieces to carry.
Would I stab them in your heart
If you’ll allow me?
Would I choke you in your own blood?
Why does life continue to flow
In my own veins?
There is something very dark
In this winter of winters.
Something that so much lacks the peace
That I’ve longed to drink up,
Like the blue in my veins.
All vow to watch you bow
Down to feast upon the grapes made from wax,
And blow delight upon the sight
Of ornamented delicacies from your heart made of silver.
You will feel when we’ve already sealed
Deep inside our minds, with the time we will unwind,
So that you can walk in that gait we’ve left behind.
Denial is a place of gold,
Worship is a place of bronze,
And I have said that your heart is made of silver.
Watch the world, will you not?
Observe each eye on the right sight,
Your face and its sorrowful place,
Where sickness comes to make its grace.
Watch all eyes, that slowly cry
Out the moons, to see you swoon.
You are loved, alike all women to this tale,
Like all the shallow breaths from one spring’s hail.
When winter arrives,
You’ll see who survives,
When the lake we step into, is the one where we’ll dive.
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 my mind,
The beauty I’ve come to find,
Can only ever be my kind,
Is where Heaven has fallen, and has been blackened,
My happiness was raised, to be sent down,
Like an angel, or a bird
Once nested, to be then hanged.
Where is the single path
To somewhere else?
For I wish to escape
The time of pain,
Because, I’ve not gained
Even the smallest fortune
From your large heart.
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 heavy
Alike the lips, that were too, parted and hanging,
Like the two fingers that hushed my own.
I sung outwards to see,
As well, I sung
To believe what’s there to grieve
Over, in the newness of deceit.
And, as I bleed,
I was given the note,
The one that said, “No one is there to see you,
Because all you’ve left, is yourself.”
Her parted lips, and singing smile,
I grew a few tears, for the while,
From my eyes, they descended,
And from her mouth, four words ascended,
“Love doesn’t share well,”
And I knew what it felt like, to be in Hell,
Embraced I was, by her,
And I never touched a single thing,
I am skilled in a singular art,
The act of loneliness is where I part
From a woman, in death, where she did start
To tear me up from soil,
Where grief and its embedded pain,
Knows what soul to foil,
And I am the skilled one.
Beauty recedes with the push of time
Against its frail and vulnerable form.
Alike when you called the breath of my sigh, to rub itself
Against your worn cheeks,
Against where teardrops leak
Themselves, 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 face I have seen, now and then, with the most miserable expression,
Brought upon me what is no more than stinging pain.
Leaves have formed a crown atop your head,
That leaves the feeling in the wind, to stop ahead.
I tremble as the winter does to these barren twigs,
And the few leaves that linger on their edges.
Sickness is to you, what the past is to me,
As I see what could come, from a future, embedded in vows.
Little faults begin to remind you, of how vulnerable we are
Among the scenery and the death of who we are.
Lost upon roads, with wind that seems to kiss our hearts to sadness,
We have forever been, and always we will be, lost to gladness.
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 taken
In her enclosed arms,
To that Heaven, beyond,
Where life shifts and stirs about
In the frozen open.
Death has a face for two kisses,
One for either hand, shielding the cheeks
In what crystal tears declined from her streaming eyes,
For his tongue to taste their current.
Newest kisses on her facade,
A blank one,
A white one,
And a one that demands the tears to be swallowed.
He had drained them to his stomach,
Embittered by their bitter taste,
Because, her death was the last tear he ever would know,
After a night in formless passion,
Upon sheets made of snow.
A dead woman is all to see,
One limp shell, loose in defeat.
And beside the throne of a lone god, she’ll take her seat,
In a blank Heaven,
After her death in a living Hell.
A defeated territory of nothing by way of life.
A failure upon the next one, in line for a world in strife,
He is a man of nothing new,
Except for the heart that aches with a wound.
He bleeds naked upon a golden shore,
With nothing left in his place to adore.
The distilled honey
From a thousand flowers
That blossomed nectar,
To meet the sun,
And shone there,
In the early noontide of this spring day.
I came away
To see thee,
And soon set upon a path
In a forest of green,
Lost and unaware
To my motions,
For they were as your own.
Stumbling through these narrow pathways
Beneath feet covered in stone,
I groped for a vine,
And only saw what I held before myself,
Being the hair that I always held,
Torn from a head,
I came away
To see thee, in a sea of loneliness,
And blew smoke from my lungs,
When love held its own above,
In a radiant Heaven.
Beauty caused us both to flinch,
Though, the hair still was clenched in fingers, heavy.
I clenched what I drew back,
What were the longest tresses
I knew to be,
A deeper tragedy.
A solemn hour upon my lap,
A beautiful heart in your bosom,
Quaking from all the shaking.
We were lovers for perhaps a minute,
Until we were dead for a moment.
You, a lady of the night,
Just a man with a burden to offer
A world that seems light as a burned feather.