Romanticism – Modern Romanticism

Poem – “White-Water Drafting” – 12/24/2022

Let me loose. Whatever spills
should be as dark as this chosen midnight,
over a page as white as emptied clouds,
turning fair, equal,
at daylight’s stream.

I run, though I have walked.
I have attempted to talk
without words passing through
those ears that never absorbed
meaning for what remained
to trail, behind them
like chains,

like stains along that path,
paved with blinded, black ice.

Invisible ink, no more
for these drafts, connected in white
stars, among this chosen midnight.
Whomever will hear,
let them be near
to consume words of letting go,
of darkest ink upon flakes of snow.

Hands must illustrate
a heart pierced, though not pieced
together, in misbelieved union.

Eyes must know
all there has been to show.
Remembrance to those trying times –
with weights in heaviest silver –
as states, at which
I can recreate everything better.

Poem – “For Us, to Ignore” – 12/24/2022

Deep seas, closing wounds.
Endless paragraphs for more
pages to this uncertainty.
A time to hurt. A time to disconcert.
Another time for flowers to close
before petals can rush downstream,
dropped from a mother’s arms.

I can hold hope open like a book,
with its mere cover as a shield,
emptied of details from within.
I can burn no pages,
choosing to conceal tears
with something better to judge.

Are each of these solutions bright enough
while this world with its tragedies,
its maladies, cannot tell enough
when words seek to limit,
not to simplify?

Another chapter, one more twist
to someone’s arm to lose their access
to that next steppingstone,
that newest page.

Bleeding red, in dirtied foreheads,
bruises in colors of all shapes,
and with faces that weep a greater clarity
to bring an ocean out of false smiles,

while to force, an ailed man must reveal
his capabilities in a crippled setting.

If to succession, pride must be
a woman’s mantra for eternity.
Love must decide, upon a worn heart
who will be brought up,
whomever will arise.

Poetry Series – “Autumn in the Skies” – First 10 Poems – 8/14/2021

Poem #1

“Weeping among Feathers”

Apart from the sun,
As the seasons come undone
To reveal where teardrops fell
As anchors to the fetid mist.
Your arms in the rain,
In the attempt to drench the pain.

Tied together in savage looseness,
While winter ceases the hail
That Springtime had called down –

Upon your displayed frown.
You forever wish to decay
More than either leaves or Heaven.
With clasped hands,
To send prayers for crippled towns
As mirrors raise from sands.

Poem – “Do you Believe in Tears?” – Romanticism – 6/21/2021

A final smile
Tumbled off, in the mile.
Do you believe in weather
Without the sun to smother?
There is rain to collect,
A scent to breathe
Upon the cracked doorstep.

Without the sun
You can hide with me,
Before you run,
Playing in the filth,
When the flowers wilt.

You were the value lost
From a heart with shattered veins.
You cried from the mountaintop,
Signalling ruin to stop –

With eyes set upon the cross.
When the sun fell upon its knees,
Crying in formless disbelief,
No counted rays, with the loss –

To what is buried, soon to rise
From puddles, as tears, with lies.

Poem – “Sick to Me” – Romanticism – 6/19/2021

A doomed area setting west,
While teardrops rise within the east.
You are the moon, down upon my breast,
Fading songs into the silent feast
With winter’s tears to linger.
Among saucers to drooping candles,
Death goes to notice
Your crippled, weathered form.

I bring up the sound
Leaving the music of night unsung.
Silent, in the faces worn
Violent, with the fingers torn.

Death went to notice
Joy’s slender, grafted skin
Painted to the blackest sin,
Marveling in all burned bibles.

The she who went to see
All messages made for me,
To gift her silence in the covering –

Pillows to rest, in smothering
Pain that dots the crippled form,
Silent and violent upon faces worn.

Her eyes, the lakes to reflect
A numbing guilt that did select.

Poem – “To Remind the Self” – Romanticism – 6/18/2021

For fewest glimpses
For tears that stray
Aside, for the life of mine
That bleeds a dewdrop too heavy
From hanging eyelids.

For a little warmth
From a glass that shot me
On the crossroads, of painstaking
Life in the fragile glimpse
Through reflection upon
Lost warmth,
Drowned in circles –

Upon eyes
That wept for the sunrise,
Fell for the setting
To another deceased day.

Another drunken aftermath
Upon the wine of dark-red kisses.
Falling to mouths,
Waking to smiles
Kept just in the dreams.

Something sends life.
A bird with a twig
Chewed half to fragments
Inside its puckering beak,
For kisses are soon
To be delivered
On the voyage that melts
Atop its wings.

Deepest warmth
Weeps for the next mile
That will not curve.

A kiss, never led astray
As Death’s quick bite
With Christ to shed His loss
In heartfelt decay.

Poem – “Our Love Destroyed Us” – Romanticism – 6/18/2021

Soulless,
Pitiable child,
Whose hands are bloodied
Not by the wounds from present
And incurable circumstance,
Though from experiences not met
With a future that crept
On the horizon,
Not to the child’s blinded eyes
And their missing awareness.

Loss of this kind
Knows no motherhood.
A heart that gained light
Became dark by the same sunrise,
When nothing was ever there
To pull back the stare
To a wakened glare.

Drunken,
Sordid,
Underaged
And futile.
With steps to make the walk,
With first vocabulary
To echo the talk
For a conversation back and forth,
Upon the long steps
Down hallways of gleaming
And stagnant portraits.

Faces that never speak,
Though full of memories
To make the mind weep.

Soulless,
Pitiable child
Whose face drops to a headlong.
Weeping with bloodied tears,
Laced in everyday fears.

Poem – “Not before I Kiss you” – Love Poetry – 6/15/2021

Do not drift
Without the solid kiss
Upon the greatest pair of lips
To speak words that sift
In ashes that leaked
From eyes deserving of joy.

I want to curl your form
In these pair of arms,
Walk with you
To a Heaven away from Hell,
To a place you were grieving
Yourself from believing.

To stop you from leaving,
I will wield you beneath
Moon and stars, outside grief.

To crown you a wreath,
In celebration for your life
A majesty apart from strife.

Weeping while colors compare you
To each sunrise upon the dew –

As love is the vision
Both of our lives knew.
We share flame for two feet,
Merging foundations in the heat.

Poem – “Stepping around your Streams” – Romanticism – 6/15/2021

Watching the mile become the sensation,
In light of your beginning
Where all roads become the journey
Within your never-ending grief.
Evading the sounds of your resignation,
While words enter as deliberation.
Weeping stones from melting breath
In all that recedes to bottomless death.

An ocean breaks the current we met.
We reach the ice on edges of cut fingers,
Stagnating the pain that lingers –

While drawing our eyes in each other’s mouth,
Washing with falling currents, expelling the drought.

A terrible error, being believed
For all that remains upon the plume
To your razor’s cut on the tongue.
Steps to create the imprint
Around your streaming remnants.

Something deeper than the ocean
Pulls you on a current, close
To the one who lended you the rope
On the journey through the motion –

Outside the pillars that gravitate you
Down to where you falter, where you knew.

Poem – “Tension to Fulfill” – Romanticism – 6/11/2021

How many eyedrops
Of deception
Can be what leaves the mark
Upon the resurrecting spark?
We make the drama believable
What with every chain
That binds us.

To each scar
Birthed upon the abdomen,
For each faded pain
We thought had closed
Its connection,
To seal ourselves into turmoil
Lost upon
Veins in the frozen soil.

A lost hour
Engirdled in an unneeded,
Blanketing embrace.
The wielder shows their current,
Drawn from a well too heavy
For the earth.

While the marks
Were from a fallen spill,
While the sparks
Were from disused tension,
Left to fulfill,
Let the dust come gathering
At our feet.

Let the droplets
Wander off,
Bleed off,
With faces turned to the sun,
Finding another hope
For our feet to run.

Poem – “Wearied Crawl” – Romanticism – 6/11/2021

Down, you fall
To abode, full
In your symptoms
For salvation’s call.
A pair of droplets
Cease their decline
From radiant eyes,
So dark.

A keeping
To what is weeping
Inside of you,
The less you give up,
The more to cling upon
With departure to each note
You had ever spoke.
To speak, again.

Teardrop,
Blood droplet.
A sight upon what leaves,
With no apparent grief.
True to heart
For those who depart,
While eyes scatter sunshine
At the open guillotine.

Loss romances you,
While life gives you nectar
From stillborn clouds
That never lost their kiss
At the summer’s rain.

Poem – “A Blissful Mourn” – Romanticism – 5/11/2021

However we are,
Weeping beneath stars?
Holding how fragile
Our tongues have crossed
On the kiss
Everyone missed.

How the climb
To leave, what is kept behind,
Made us more apart
Than ever the seeds kept spreading
For the lucid sake
Of dreamlike discovery.

We’ll lift,
Same as we’ll drift
With oceans torn apart,
For the lands to contain belittlement
For the triumph
Of nothing saved, for the glance.

We’ll walk,
For nothing to the talk
Of waters that kept running.

Wandering for grief
Within the lens of bliss,
Same as one would imagine
Places most roamed,
Inside the hollowest kiss.