This offering is for all those love-poets who still believe in love, in all of its many-faceted forms. We here celebrate love in its sticky thorniness, believing as we do that gender is a thing with feathers. Poetry may not save the world, but it could just save your relationship. I disagree with Shakespeare–kind of–he says music is the fruit of love, but I say it’s poetry. So dig in–let the nectar drip from your lips, run down your neck, let the music of these words play on . . .
“The Offering”
There were moments you slew me,
With a grindstone of curses
I’ll cut off your head to bring the rain
This god with his liver dangling beneath the ribs like a bell
I will ring it till it peals, peals, peals
Plastic trinkets in an offering box
A skull with spine attached
A shaman greeted you and beat
you lightly with branches
It was a blessing, a welcome to this city
Milagros pinned to a shrine
Calcium grins grim
Face to face with volcanic stone
I’ll never forget, my enemy or my lover’s shape
Cradling a head in my hands, memorizing the bony plates
Below the cobblestones
Temples built over temples
Riding the lake under the bed of the city
I’ll cut off your head to bring the rain
Wear your hair and face to the temple
And light the braziers, the belly
A stone bowl carved to hold a beating heart
SPELL BIND
I cannot
Be away from him.
My Argonaut,
My wild flock
Of bright red
Feeding me
His sweet and golden fruit.
The Apologist
Orange lilies are not an apology. Maybe crimson columbines, if you picked them naked,
were caught by a ranger in your all-together, and given a ticket, yeah, then maybe it’s an apology.
If you offered your herbarium of pilfered wildflowers you’d pressed and labeled: “Flowers of the North Fork of the American River, of which I am most proud,” with taxonomic rank penciled in next to each entry: class, subclass, order and species, then maybe it’s an apology.
A recognition somehow of effort, not a florist phone call delivering flowers unseen.
Orange lilies are not an apology. And don’t even think about roses–don’t–no matter the color. A rose is just a weed in the cornfield of this argument.
Maria Garcia Teutsch
Let’s
Let’s take off our clothes and fool around.
We can roll all over
like dogs off-leash at Lighthouse Beach. Let’s rummage
through each other’s body
like a Fourth of July blowout sale, pawing through the orgy
of tweed and twill, silk and sequins swirling up in flurries.
The Buddha says don’t argue until it’s necessary.
Let’s shuck oysters,
wash them down with dirty martinis,
the table littered with pearly shell. We can fill
the bathtub and pretend we’re looking out
at sunset over Tomales Bay. Your breasts
are lanterns flickering on the water.
Your hips are still California’s golden hills.
This morning I opened an e-mail from Texas
that said I’m going to hell and you don’t really love me,
but if I repent, though my sins be scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow.
Darling, it’s good to know we have options
but for now let’s get triplet Chihuahuas,
carry them around in patent-leather purses.
Drag your guitar out from under the bed
and sing “Rose of My Heart” again.
I’ll hunt in the garage for my zills and coin-covered bra
and do the three-quarter shimmy down the skinny hall.
Let’s not think about our children, miles away,
doing things we’d rather not know.
Haven’t we carved enough statues?
You remember the meadow I rented for you.
You wanted it sunny and edged with trees.
I paid the old woman a hundred dollars
so I could lay you down under the sky’s blue marquee.
The longer we’re together, the less I can tell you.
But hasn’t it been a long day?
The President of Infinite Sadness is sorry
she ever ran for office. She imagined
she’d be like those brawny angels
who lower you into the tubs of warm mud at Calistoga.
But monkeys are gorging on peanut butter
so science can prove fat makes you fat,
and the workers who grow roses in Ecuador
are poisoned so we can say it with flowers.
Tomorrow we’ll write letters. We’ll try harder
We’ll turn down the thermostat and bicycle to work
and you’ll swish plastic bags in a sink of soapy water
where they float like the jellyfish they’re mistaken for.
But tonight let’s bring Bessie back for an encore.
Don’t you want a little sugar
in your beautiful bowl?
Let’s make some rain, let’s invent skin,
give me your glorious, gorgeous, generous thighs.
The ghost of my mother’s in the basement doing laundry,
offering the damp clothes that extra little shake.
Wouldn’t she be happy
to hear us nickering and neighing?
Wouldn’t she be happy to know
death is feeding elsewhere tonight?
I’ll dust your eyelids with cinnamon
and braid those old feathers into your hair.
Morning will find us asleep on the roof,
our faces blank as the new day, just the mockingbird
in the neighbor’s tattered palm
whistling a tune that sounds a little like a Persian raga,
that twangy sitar, raising the sun.
On Love, On Representing It
We are so alive!
Planes and stars hang among stars
which I saw from the roof of the ineffable.
I distilled almost to vapor.
Meanwhile, the violation
of social distance defines
the panic element
of sex, the marvelous panic, the hoarder’s
closeness of gorging the flesh, but none of this
is love, only a coarse moon, orbiting but cold,
producer of tides and fickle odes,
but itself an emblem of the impassive
and worse, unable to sustain life.
Your purple earrings
sit on the edge of an earthly sink and I inhale
your age of sage and pine, I inhale
a particularity that could eat
everything for a thousand years
like a collapsing star, some angel
of nervous light, our shape
in a mirror, a forest, a garden.
But nothing will stand in, nothing will complete,
not even the coast road we took,
the views stunning, then a rockslide
halfway closed the way and what else to do
but pose with the ocean
behind us in its currents
and distant liners and the moon a vivid coin.
The Kiss
(for DC)
Tonight, the kiss I’ve dreamed of,
the kiss of a lifetime, is here.
And now we hug and kiss
and kiss and love–
exploding the moment,
as if we were an extravagant bouquet
of burgeoning buds and stamens.
Like creatures dashing through the forest,
we tumble into each other’s arms,
our mouths and leafy boughs entwined.
Some strange and wondrous magnet
is drawing us together
like orbiting stars, carrying us
beyond the dust of ourselves.
They Forget to Tell You
Here is the part of the story all the cards and first date performers forget to tell you:
The End.
Of which there is always at least one. You know this.
What you may not know, is that today a lone sailor took a tiny boat out on choppy waves
while I sat on a rock a few miles away recording how today was another day of mourning for the way someone would jerry-rig a buoy to look for rays
and the way another might forget sunscreen on the back of her neck and turn a painful red
and for how he sang while he packed, licked spoons on their backsides, lost socks in drawers, or took pictures of her in a certain light, and lost the film
or for how she would lose her voice, and root around in the bottom of her bag for her keys
and for how he lost so badly at cards, he cheated to avoid losing
for how he had always wanted to sail but lost the will– who doesn’t fear the open water, the unknown conditions?
The lone boat with its lone driver waited for a ferryfull of people to pass and didn’t wave, but held still in the open water
and kept holding– not moving, not changing, but holding–
then turned in the direction of the harbor, starting the motor which I could not yet hear
as the water kissed the hull,
and the hull kissed solitude
and this was a love song.
Ravello
The milkman greets the hairdresser. The hairdresser greets the window washer. The window washer greets the street sweeper. The street sweeper greets the priest, who greets the mayor, who greets the housewife, who sends her children on their way to school this Tuesday morning. The children greet the puppies that follow them, then scowl and send the puppies crying home. The puppies lie down and greet their own crotches, then greet the cats. The cats greet the milkman. The milkman greets the tourists, who point at a sculpture. The sculpture greets the jewelry maker. The jewelry maker greets the chef. The chef greets the butcher. The butcher greets the baker with fresh lard for baking a limone-semolina cake. The baker greets the winemaker with a slice of sugary grape cake. The wine maker greets the wind that pollinated the grapevines where the grape cake grapes grow. The wind greets the gardener, who greets the pigeons, who greets bluebirds, who tweet to the doctor. The doctor greets the poets. The poets greet other poets. These poets greet a curvy dressmaker. The dressmaker greets the fine lady who had been waiting every day at the café for five days for her dress to be repaired and returned. The fine lady greets her and the café manager, who greets his miniature infant twins, who greet the angels they brought with them. Each one greets this crisp sunny day.
What If
Orson Welles never existed? Or Vienna?
I’ve never seen The Third Man but what if
I had? Would I have faked my death
or made sure of hers? What if
there were phones that took selfies
ten years ago, when I shook my head
and told myself I’d met a crazy one, a woman
as likely to eat me as love me, who left me
staring at myself in window panes
as dusk slicked the world with darkness
and there I was staring back, lost or
in love: I couldn’t decide which. But
a picture: if I’d studied myself in a phone
tucked like a mirror in my hand, I’m sure
I’d have seen the truth. And what if
there is a single truth? I’ve been to Vienna.
It’s as if there was never a war. Until you look
past the cobwebs in attics, shuffle through
pictures and old letters, all the other secrets
hidden away in trunks and unmarked boxes,
or look into the eyes of the last lingerers,
who worry a little more than the rest of us
about what awaits them in the afterlife.
I feel like Sylvia Plath. And so what?
But what if I’d never returned her calls?
What if I’d looked into her eyes the first
time I heard her lie and called it
what it was: her truth. What if
I’d thrown her clothes into the street
that morning I read what she’d done in
a trail of texts on her phone, as she slept
with my son on a bean bag chair
in the next room. What if I’d walked
next door and borrowed a gun.
What if I’d written down her lies
like a list of wishes sung blue into the cold
space of cupped hands, her hands
as she walked home from another lover’s
crumbling tenement, walked home to me
still asleep in the predawn wheeze of our son’s
humidifier, asleep certain that my wife
had come home hours earlier, was drunk
and motionless a foot away, her hair
tangled in her own hands as if she’d
tried to climb free of a nightmare
and found herself in bed with me.
I remember her once offering me a lank
length of hair and lifting her chin
as if to say, Here, wrap it around
my neck. As if to say, Please.
What if.
Love. When most people hear the word, they think of something romantic. Not me. When I hear the word love, I think of my mother, how she takes care of me no matter what. Of my sisters, always there, always ready to do anything. Of my brothers who, even though they’re far away, take the time to think of me. I think of my nieces and nephews, who say they love us more. I think of my friends – most of whom I’ve never met – who are always there to listen and give advice, to share. This is love. Unconditional.
I do
There is love in the air,
when someone says I do.
That kiss under the altar;
the one that shows you will love them,
in sickness and in health.
G. Cortez
“why do you love me?”
the cold air shocked me
far less than my reply
“because you love me”
as the words left my mouth
realization set in
I didn’t
Exploiting my Name
for Chocolates and Flowers
Love, I died in vain.
And Still
The heart beating faster
Fleeting fluttering from deep within, love
Passion felt all over
in sync with another, love
Whether or not they are in the same place, love
Thinking over and over of seeing their face
Anticipating that moment your in their presence
Just so you can take in a breath, love
Protecting at all costs, love
A moments annoyance, realizing the reason is them
And still, you love
Woken out of deep slumber,
The snoring persists,
And still, you love
Caught in awe, love
Sweet whispers only for them, love
Losing them would be the end, love
Angry words, misunderstandings
And still, you love
Forgiving the most hurtful offense
And still, you love
Differences accepted, love
Both taught each, to Love
I really enjoyed your poem, it really gives an understanding of those little moments in which you realize you are truly in love. Exactly what you wrote that the source of your annoyance is that specific person but still you’re completely in love with them.
I really liked what your poem said about love. It captures all the little moments in which you would expect for the love not to be reinforced but yet it is. Like when you mention that the source of your annoyance is that specific person but yet you realize at that moment that you love them just the same.
The three words that fools a weak mind. The three words that ruins one’s perspective on trust. Trust that is no longer there. Space and time was shared. Shared like the secrets you once told because their presence was perfect. Perfect just like their lies. Lies that torn everything apart. Apart like the relationship. A relationship that will never be seen again. Again, again, and again those three words are the reason why so many are afraid to feel.
Your eyes are like emeralds in the sun
And like the deep blue in the shade.
Your red hair like fire in the wind.
You picked me out of the void I was in.
You are my light in the dark.
Every day feels so special when I am around you.
We stay up late at night and just talk till one of us falls asleep.
We laugh for no reason at times.
When ever I need someone you are there,
And whenever you need someone
I’ll always be there.
You give me a reason to care about someone
You are the person I care about the most.
I love you so much and you love me for me.
You are my little red fox.
If someone would of told me that the day we met (the day I stepped on you)
That we were meant for each other
I would call them crazy
Oh how crazy that even thought I’ve stepped on you
You’ve been here
You’ve stayed
You took this crazy girl by her hand
And haven’t let go
She took one look at him and knew. On that cold October night dressed in her bright yellow sunflower jacket she was gifted last christmas. The brown eyed boy, that was not hers but would do anything to be, stood in the snow with her. Shuddering from the cold but yielding a smile as bright as her jacket. He showed her he was willing to wait and would freeze right beside her just to keep her close.
She took one look at him and knew. On that cold October night dressed in her bright yellow sunflower jacket, she was gifted last Christmas. The brown-eyed boy, that was not hers but would do anything to be, stood in the snow with her. Shuddering from the cold but yielding a smile as bright as her jacket. He showed her he was willing to wait and would freeze right beside her just to keep her close.
Is this love?
Overwhelmed by my uncertainty
A mother to women
A wife to a man
Is this love?
Sacrificing my freedom for you
Sleeping in my sorrow
Self-loathing because of my compliance
Is this love?
You sabotage my happiness for yours
You are not patient nor kind
You are envious and boastful
Is this love?
Torture lurks within my doubts
Sweeps my happiness and kills my hope
If deprived I am, please show mercy
Give me love.
The Love Miser
It’s easy to forget, and even easier to forgive
But it’s harder to recreate, the love you used to give.
You said it yourself, you loved me to the moon,
Now I hate myself, for being so swoon.
Maybe I was stupid, for believing in your promises
Or maybe it was cupid, who sweetened all those kisses,
Whatever the case, I’ve become much wiser,
For the rest of my days, call me the love miser.
Too write about anti love would be terrible. Instead I’ll tell about my little experience.
It’s sort of like replaying a film you like
you play it, pause it, rewind it, play it, forward it, rewind it and play it again.
It’s like the seasons, during winter cold long nights. Then spring comes and occasionally April showers. But then summer, finally! Long hot sunny days. Then the fall. Leaves turn color and some commence to fall off. Or even better it’s like getting up early to go to work spend ur day there get paid. To come home and clean, shower, eat and sleep. The following days are similar.
I gave you freedom
You gave me prison
I gave you love
You gave me hate
I gave you attention
You ignored
So, to that I say
Love no longer lives here.
A.Gaines
Love is Only a Word
They tell you, “I love you.”
All that so they can get close
and exploit you.
Through hardships,
you are left to fend
for the both of you,
when all they did was cower
in hopes you will make everything alright.
In the end, love has no meaning.
It is just a word, an excuse, a weapon,
that is meant as a hellish trap,
to use you up
until you are of no more use,
then tossed away
and be forgotten.
Love is a life-long lie
that should never have existed at all.
The idea of a romantic love is foreign to some,
So used to the kicks and the screams
Of a mother and father in the next room,
The ‘I love you, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,”
Using those three words in vein,
Cutting like a knife to the children that hear them.
Traumatizing, so that when someone later
Says those same three words
They don’t know whether to be happy
At a consequence of the media,
Or scared at the consequence of their childhood.
Filled to the brim,
Holding your affections,
Basking in your beams of bliss.
Cradling what you gifted me,
I’m careful not to splash a drop.
Your warmth and steaming comfort,
Lulls my churning currents to a calming sleep.
I came home to find you washing the dishes. Dinner was ready and the baby was fed and bathed. You knew I was tired and had homework, you took it upon yourself to help with what you could. With your actions you showed me your love and mine for you grew even more.
Violets are blue
I’m so happy she chose you
I’m sure you are too
Daisies in the rain
Wilting! Drowning in sadness
No! Sweets will not help
temporary love
i was happy by myself
then you came along
Oh Saint Valentine,
Card and Candy Companies
have stolen your name.
True love is about honesty and trust
Trust can easily be broken with evil lies
Lies can never keep love alive
Feb 13 at 6:59pm
He said he loved me.
His sweet words turned to ashes
The day he left me.
M.S.
Love without fervor
Essential for happiness
Have not felt it real
sr
I love chocolates
I will use any excuse
To devour them
Content with today,
But ready for the future
For who will come next
Alone every night
Happiness lies in yourself
No need for drama
JA
Last minute reservations
A dozen roses, a box full of chocolate
Valentines Day, how fun!
We went our separate ways,
I soon realized that your love
Was not for me
-AA
Loving in your light
Letting your guard down, sincere
I don’t mind rain
Loving you was hard
We went our different ways
I found myself again
-TA
People play too much
People make you heartbroken
The single life rocks
Love at purest form
Will only then begin to decay
You will miss them more
-MR
Countless days alone.
Spending time with no one else.
Another day goes.
-DJ
Love
A constant battle
Almost like a war
But in the end
Whether it be for another
Whether it be for yourself
Love is what we are fighter for
-JP
Love is when you feel like you cannot live without it
Your heart tugs at you to make sure it is happy
To bend over backwards to make sure nothing is wrong
To love is to care and to cherish
But love is only one sided
No one will ever love you back as hard as you love someone else
You will always end up in pain, sorrow and loss
The time will come for your love to cease as well
And when that time comes someone else will feel that pain as they bid you farewell
Your lips deceiving
Lies it was all at the end
For no truth was told
-CA
A lovely morning
Fresh oxygen with the mist
in the deep forest
-M.P
They say it is two stars colliding a summer’s day feeling held boundless as the sea a shared melody ringing bells being found being home all anyone wants all you need honey on your tongue never enough possessing understanding unuttering transforming purifying burning healing drowning smothering belonging
I want to feel all of it
I can wait
I don’t have solutions
for all your problems in life.
I don’t have answers
for your doubts or fears,
but I can listen to you.
I cannot change
your past or future,
but when you need me
I’ll be there.
I cannot avoid your falls
but I can lend you a hand
for you to hold on.
You will always have ifs and or buts in any relationship,
and you think you know what is best for yourself.
What you define as love is up to you
It can be between trust, being over protective, being controlling
but it is up to you and what you believe.
Until another person is involve,
will your thoughts stay the same about love?
It is up to you to make that decision.
There are many who feel the pain of doubt in
relationships.
I believe love is like a rose, the beauty of having it, cherishing it, and nurturing it.
However, to either be wary of the thorns it holds, welcome its pain, or being brave enough to strip its walls of defense away.
Not all are made for who they think they are for, and it will be hard to fight through it or know when to walk away.
The decision falls to one who decides that a decision needs to be made.
As she/he do not want to be loved for the petals that they possess, but for who they are inside, the reason as to why they developed thorns, to begin with, to love the flaws that they may have or believed to have, to love all of them.
– Y.R.
Why wait to Love
Feb 14 the day of love,
Why wait a whole year to love,
What happened to the other 364 days,
But hey i ain’t gonna judge,
Don’t be the last minute bug,
Might as well hide under a rug,
It’s not hard to find real ness,
From a steel heart,
To a warm soul,
Finding true love,
Is like finding real gold,
When two have a connection,
In age turn old.
I remember the hike to the cliff,
I was heavy,
Burdened.
You took my hands,
Looked me in the eyes,
Told me you wouldn’t let go,
encouraged me that it was time to fly.
You reminded me
That my dreams were not
Out of reach.
That it was I
Who didn’t believe
I had wings.
So, I jumped from the ledge,
Into the dark unknown,
Unsure if I would ever reach the skies.
Now,
look at me.
Like never
Before.
Happy.
Because of you.
I feel lucky.
I feel empowered.
I feel alive.
Because of you.
Smiles
Beautiful sunshine
Sometimes more than usual mornings
gracefully he smiles
J.J
The crying has stopped.
I sleep alone at night.
Single once again.
– J.B
Love is the feeling that makes you look at life as if it were a blossoming rose. That filled with dazzling colors and beautiful scents, makes your mind travel to another world far from life difficulties.
You always did bring out a smile on my face.
Love is tragic. Those who like the idea of love are fools. They choose to think blissful thoughts when thinking about love. Love is something that impacts lives in good and bad ways. The person they love never leaves their mind. When losing the one they love it’s a hole that will never close. Slowly most move on to another. The pain always there. Wanting someone to spend their life with is tragic because things happen that will always hurt and tarnish the word love.
Love is for the weak.
it is for the desperate.
I will not take part.
Hazel eyes I see through
A smile I look up to
I grab your hand and squeeze
Oh how you make me feel at ease
OH the power you hold, you can make my heart glow
You can even make it hurt
I know you feel how I feel too
We don’t give up and We don’t say goodbye
no matter day or night
we balance ourselves we bring ourselves up
we graduated high school
we are getting through college
one day ill be walking down the aisle
this to lead to one day
the day we create our own
no matter what I can’t shake you off
a best friend at heart
I plan to create more joy and many years at sea
whether it be in the Bahamas or Hawaii
with you is where I want to be
“Gone”
Your silence suffocates me.
My tears are now drowning me,
because the drops of acid you rain over me,
is now flooding me.
Your touch is now cold.
My face tingles and I start to wrinkle and get old,
while the icicles on my heart start growing and molds,
and my arms start to tremble because there is no one to hold.
Your smile is gone.
My heart hurts and now I think everything is wrong
with my life, knowing that you belong
with someone else and I’m still here,
left alone.
Your auburn curls lulled me
And your eyes like seaweed tangled me still.
Your elegant mind put me in a stupor,
And I fell hard.
I knew I shouldn’t have
You let me know every time
Someone said
“You’d make a nice couple”
You would remind them we were friends,
And knowing it was true, I’d laugh with you.
And it hurt knowing I was a fool.
I blamed myself, not you
After a painstakingly long time,
Those thoughts crawled out like spiders and died.
Leaving an empty and hollow nest inside,
And as those thoughts faded,
I did too.
True loves very rare
When I look into your eyes
I have found it there
-C.S.
Never Had This Type of Love
I crave your presence and your peace
And the intensity of your gaze when you look my way
I often think of how you speak
With assertiveness and calmness, just for me
I admire the way you keep your word
And how you put effort into all you do
I respect the honesty behind your words
Even though they sometimes hurt
I appreciate the way you make time
A drive with you at night is sometimes all I ask
I cherish the way you make me laugh
And how you remind me that there’s more to life than work
I love that you’re stubborn just like me
And won’t quit on us even on the most grueling times
I find comfort in your words
And in your actions.
In your pain and in your emotions.
I feel I understand you, and I feel
Like I can love you but we are too different
You do not exist in my world and I do not
Exist in yours.
Just friends.
In case you didn’t know..
Is it your light brown eyes,
Is it messing around like little kids?
Yet here we are just as friends.
Summer came & we spent the days working together at the ranch,
Is it your smile ,is it your laugh, or is it your caring heart.
Yet here we are just as friends.
I wished you the best when you fell for her,
You got the girl you wanted, so there the limit to our friendship appeared.
I wish you the best even if it hurts, love is patient and love is kind.
Enemies to Lovers
The warrior lift himself from the muddy ground and made eye contact with his nemesis.
Eyes that should be fill of fury, were full of pain.
This was war and they were opposite side of the battlefield.
They knew the moment they met in the tavern.
Swords flying to each other throats.
Yet instead of killing each other, they decided to find a table.
Talk about their past lives.
Drink large amount of ale.
Laugh when either of them slip their drinks or made a joke.
Sing merry tunes of songs.
Going as far to share a forbidden kiss.
Without a care of the world as they press each other close.
Shutting the door from eager eyes.
They met constantly whenever they could.
That taste of warmth as they hold each other close, forgotten.
Replace with the coldness of their swords as they clash.
The warrior try to play the perfect enemy to his nemesis.
But recalling all those memories.
The warrior just smiles and close his eyes.
Feeling the blade pierce his heart.
Truth be told,
some just aren’t made for it.
A soft heart would be better off alone
than scarred by a game that’s often too cruel.
And yet,
we all want to fall in love with somebody else tonight;
and so we’ll swallow the pain again and again,
Until our throats go from pink to orange then red.
Event
Its Valentines Day
A Day made for deception
A deadly weapon
B.L
I love you
I hear it all the time
It means nothing when said
It’s so cheesy
Such a necessary phrase to say
But, now…
I look at you
And my heart is bursting with a happy glow
Who could have guessed
that those words could have been true
I’m dying to say it
“I Love You”
And I mean those words
Truly
Is it just me?
Who’s waiting on you.
Is this something too crazy?
Influenced by thoughts that are kinda hazy.
Do you even exist?
I run but come back and persist.
Never felt this before.
A couple of things I don’t have an answer for.
I hate love always
I will never love another
love ends up hurting
Two souls that match perfectly
But must be separated because the universe is not that giving
We live our lives expecting to find them
But are left wondering if they even exist
Heartbreak after heartbreak
Because we mix comfortability with love
Wondering deep down if the next person will be “the one”
Don’t ask me if love is real
For I can honestly only say mine is
I wish I could truly know what other’s feel
But too many times
The truth hurts
Over there is a
red rose in a field full of
the color yellow
Over there is a
red rose in a field full of
the color yellow
My Beautiful Solution
She told me that she is my prettiest problem.
That baffled me, it was the most preposterous thing she had said.
If only she knew that it was flipped, she is my prettiest solution.
She thinks she isn’t beautiful but I know she’s beautiful inside and out,
Looks got me to LOOK but it was the way she made me feel that made me stay.
She makes me want to do something with my life.
Being alive, prior to her entrance into my life, was a burden.
Now I look forward to waking up every morning.
She is my solution.
You hold me in your arms,
Whisper sweet words,
We tell one another
“I love you”
everyday.
I’m no longer sure if I do,
but refuse to allow myself to just
let go of you,
Heart’s Loving Captor
Nothing could silence this heart that beats your name,
nor erase the words that have risen the sun within,
As you were a glimmer of absolution,
a promise of forever amid the vast unknown,
I found a home in you,
where the stars have inscribed us among the somber skies.
Puppies are so pure
They help you during hard times
they are so loving
Pain
Don’t make me fall for you
I know it will end in tragedy
I can’t love you.
Love
I within my soul,
Worshiping only you,
Until I die.
Valentine’s day is a day to give love!
But, aren’t we supposed to love everyday?
Love with compassion and full heartedness
Love with no expectations of benefits or rewards
Love with no measurement of time or quantity
Love is not hidden or denied
Love is in the air we breathe and the food we eat
Love is the very reason we are alive
Love is found with anything and anyone
Love is not replaceable
There are so many different ways to love, to feel, to give
Valentine’s day is special
But it is definitely not the only day to love
Our tangled heartstrings,
tugged by the angels that reside above,
as though plucked to the rhythm of a lover’s song,
vex our hearts upon the heavens.
Where our lonesome souls lay,
draped over the mystic moon,
swathed in lustrous clouds.
Yet as time is to come,
we will become one with the stars,
align once more and glisten beneath.