Romantic Poetry
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What I devotefrom an imperfect heartmade out of iron,are the perfect edgesof a diamond.I’m not beggingfor an eternitywhile I’ve knownit was alwaysa moment insidedelicate reach.I’ve come downwith a weightto leave in the dirt,dedicating brittle,honest presenceto unite.Hold out your hand,glistening from tearsyou’ve let flyfrom half-open eyes.Hold out your heartfor this starlit adoration,under an infinite skymatching our…
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Rain with mea blessing we bothcan retrievefrom its neutral status,with our devoted hearts,our stable hands.We can exhumewhat we repressed,delivering our petalsto open lips.We can dreamour oceans combined,bring in the wavesover naked shores.Light is notour devouring enemyas it restson our shoulders.We’ve suffered enoughto not wish to resistits teeming presence.Sickness is the flutterin our abdomens,the music that…
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Ten fingerscontinue their pushin their perspectiveof what’s warm,what fuels fireto keep burning.Two minds,two halves of a heartbound into unityoverlap into eternity.We’ve loved,starving for tomorrowto cure our sorrowinto poignancy.Raining tressesdecorate your art,your divine bodyas a sculpture of snow.Glimmering eyescapture all around us,send me an invitationto accept your song.I’ll drink your presencelike a wine,dancing to the tunepresenting…
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Melt the snowfrom frozen fingers.Calm a lake,for symmetrical,revealing reflections.I’ve been believingsince the momentwhen we clashed,since we first erupted,with a pieced togethersmile from Heaven.I’ve been hopingthe tears won’t sweepour bodies in their rushto fall to our feet.If we kiss again,will we hold the momentby our heartstrings,by what rhythm brings?Life has drenched usin bitter fluids,while love has…
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What did you do?Going there, knowing wheremy body might fall,letting the rocks come loose,from mountains. I am still wishingthat you, with your infinite turnswill return. I am still hopingthat secrets are not your way.I am still glancingover these pale shouldersto see something I I had missed, like another reflection of mineI had left, in thosebottomless…
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You hold candles to burn us toSpecks upon an aching shoulder.Why fall, when we knewTo give the ocean its space?One final teardrop breaks into cinders,With heat upon your form I trace.Walk back those eyesFrom afar, to bleeding arms. Do not stop sinkingEven when reaching the end of me.You were strong upon your own scenery.Never decide,…
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On the journeyBack to delicate tornShreds of a deserted fieldWhere you were raisedAs a single flowerWith petals flown, emptyTo the stagnant touchOf the winds. I will soar youBeyond the last mileThe earth has to stretch for,In the sum of all mathematicalNumerical.Concealed as you areUpon the openness of stars,CyclicalWith funerals to your stare. Gravitate, as youFind…
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Why light,WhySo bright?What have I burnedOf the stilled tomorrow?Her hair radiates,Her skinEscalates, the tempest,Me,And the fuses at the endsOf herWorn fingers. BeautySmiles, one of heavinessTo myAching body.Her ownEclipses what I see of light,So bright,With giants to every step,Every encroaching hourTo my feeble sight. Lead on,My womanWhose arms crawl,Whose legs drag,Though still remains beautifulTo even the…
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I cannot tellWhich part of the night with starsLeads me to Heaven,Or withers me to Hell.I dream of drinks,Of chalices full of tears,Full of another’s blood.There, to the winds that carryThe scent of a funeral’s pyre,I effort myself to loathe,Never to love. Dreams can tell apart,Day from night.And I,With hollowness to every scar,Stare into the…
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This was delayed, because a new cover had to be made. It will be released, very soon.
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Since May 6th, 2019, I have begun writing an almost endless stream of poetry on this blog. I have now compiled 924 poems, not including the 164 drafts to poetry I didn’t finish. Minus the 54 poems that I am having published through a local publishing house, I have 870 poems that will still need…
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Beneath the wilted roses, I seem a fragrance too many. Too often left upon my bones To drink of something else sweet. Your absence has buried my heart, Left me full of the dark. You loosened me, then dropped me Like the infant upon his neck. I felt the summer come too close, For winter…
Modern Romanticism 