Romantic Poetry
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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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Thy eyes turn towards places, where scars do not fade.They are but shells to a beating heart,Discarded, like the crab to its own shelter,But, remembered. Blankness, is to your soul, without a need to write your tale,Like the chirping of birds in the rising sun,Like the coming music of when you start sobbing.Beauty is but
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What saves me from painTo today’s broken time? The clock’s hands have shattered fingers,And they point to empty moments.They drag across my lap, where my eyes are placed,Because, my heart has relapsed,It has retractedAnd feels nothing. I have given all to you.Everything but a heart, that remains bruised and black,And has backed itself to an
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Beautiful womanWhom all will call as needing aid,The support from a thousand fountains,To drink from. Why do you require moreThan what I offer? Is it merely in a woman’s bloodTo be this expensive?To require this much effortFor your possession? I do not own you,But, I have won you.A golden heart, is what I have taken,And
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The way we both breatheIn the heat of this barren town,Where love falls on deafened clowns,Where their ears cannot fathomThe calls of their laughing sounds,Is the way we sighBy the way we cry upon acknowledgementThat we’ll not ever jestThe way that a clown does.We are merely lies,Among the particles to breathe from sighs. Their way,
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I have shared a kiss, with loneliness,And have shared wine, with death, itself.I have felt music play upon my lipsDuring when I was lost, in love’s abyss. I guarded what cannot die,And, I guarded what should not have decayedTo be spread among the four winds,Before the times arrives. My love was a vanishing current,And this,
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What a smile,Upon looking to seeWhat is most Heavenly!Love, as you, has seemed to undoAll the knots in my heart,All the confusions I’ve long embraced,All the heat I’ve long been to laceAround my body and mind. Now you will play as the knitterThe embroider,The simple seamstress,To bind us forever, in eternal togetherness. My own love
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I cry often,Whenever I unearthOldness from coldness.Perhaps a misplaced photograph, suddenly foundBy a heap of dust.I look upon that dust, to next wonder,“Is it you, the flesh of my flesh?” The lady who did die,Was the death that makes me cry.I’ll weep the tears,Staining my barren cheeks,Staining beneath my swollen eyes,And not a single tear,Will
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You plundered the blue,Off what was brand new,And show up as you knewAll to break throughMy heart, with jagged edges.And, it is broken in two,Though, the symmetry was never there,Those eyes of yoursCould never really stare,To see from beyond your falling hairThat coated your face,To notice not even a trace. I am a new manWith
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Bled, we were, upon an ocean gulfTo spread South, to where distant heat resides.And, to heal, to kneel, with eyes upon the sun,And, to feel, to seal, our wounds with our own tears.You have a heartbeat that skipsStones upon the water’s surface.Lost, though found, on death’s own compound,Found, but bound, with Hell to hear for
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Eternity is too true to be new,Like what had wetted her lips,As the softest gleam I ever knew,Like two petals,With one facing towards Heaven,And the other facing my feet,At the place she’d occasionally bleed. Beauty is always bound in the embrace of serenity,In that lock her and me, knew to beBoth warm and cold, in
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When I want to kiss, I will smotherThee, among all your surrender.And when you are upon knees and handsTo see, what has come of the kiss, burning upon your scarlet,You will drink, whether it be forced to beLet through your throat, to the level where you plead. Drink up, beauty,With your face and frown upon
Modern Romanticism 