You say that you are blah,
But to that I just say nah,
You are so worthwhile,
Like a Lily of the Nile.
I wish to crisply kiss you,
With my honest artistic style,
For smiles and for endless miles,
To me, you see, you are deeply delightful.
And you are above all as beautiful as nightfall,
Yet, as dark as a shy smoldering spark overall,
And as evenly meant and as elegant as an enthralled free for all snowfall.
Author: poetryfest
LOVE Poetry by Gulnor Poeziyan
* * *
Spill on my lashes –
In shape of rain
Maybe you already washed
Maybe I didn’t notice you’re came.
I ask from God: Oh God,
Are there any people who miss like me?
Are there anyone absorbed rain in their minds
Are there anyones who hopes to gain?
And if I say bye to my tears who fell from my eyes with it?
Tell me please, will pour into my dreams?
My love, won’t you fit in the world like me?
Will you swear till the last breath?!
Be rain on my lashes
Like happy tears?
LOVE Poem: Celestial sonata of affection, by Felix Mwiya
A witness in the shadow.
A symphony from the cello.
And celestial light shining
In its perfect timing.
Time vanishes in a glimpse.
Dark as my beloved primps
For the course of the moon.
A night in June.
Ancient aroma in its prime.
Sanctified love in its time.
Priceless wine in its finest.
The wind calmest.
Dancing with my only one;
Curvy, warmth, sweet hun.
Specially betrothed for me.
Goddess of love spree.
Beauty’s perfect in motion;
Glamour’s squashed lemon,
Amassed fox in moonlight,
Tonight’s ferrite.
Am drunken in your love.
Dived into an eternity of
Loyalty thus never cease
My solo piece.
Perpetual is my affection
Witness it my companion,
Lasts ‘till the moon melts,
Poise as roosevelt.
LOVE Poem: HEARTS APLENTY, by David Avila
I am a person of hearts aplenty;
One loves Krishna,
One beats for Yahweh,
One thumps for Jehovah,
One keeps rhythm for Allah,
Another, kowtows at the feet of Buddha,
There’s an aortic feed that kneels to Jesus Christ,
And, also I possess a life pump for Muhammad,
Many hearts have I;
One for the breeze through the trees, and the birds who’s flight it is taken upon,
One for the many-colored sky that serves as the backdrop for his brother’s love,
One for the deep of the sea,
One for what therein contains,
Another for the shallow of the shore,
Many different hearts, I have, that keep time for the multitude of flora and fauna which fill the
gap between the oceans and the space above the highest peak,
One exists for humankind,
And one remembers when the arms that held you were mine.
LOVE Poem: “LOVE” sonnet, by Angel S.
I’ve let my longing sing
So my lungs take no peace
In hopes another part may collapse
And be offered under your feet
With sharp notes of tune
Where my tongue begin to bleed,
In hopes you’ll finally listen
And hear my constant plead
Where wanting and desires grow
All and nothing I have to offer,
In spite of all my grieving torment
For your love I’ll always suffer
If not for you then for another
As eager longing begin to burn,
In spite of trials I continue to sing
This only song I have ever known
LOVE Poem: WATER LINE UP, by Andy Betz
Sung to a catchy island beat, the second use of the word August is pronounced in a way to rhyme
with the word, trust
My lady was my best friend. None could be sweeter
She came with a smile. Every time I greet her
She’s good with a knife. So I never beat her
But, she hates island life. Says it just depletes her
So I find a better job. Now I take the Prozac
My work will soon kill me. By stroke or cardiac
I hate my long work days. All pull and no slack
So I quit the next day. My tub is my new shack
Water line up, I be smokin’
Water line down, I be strokin’
All alone, so there’s no pokin’
Seriously, I’m not jokin’
The rent is due on Monday. And I’m not so rich
I sent the check on Sunday. To the landlord bitch
I post it with no stamp. So I made the switch
Postman told her Tuesday. New he is her snitch
The sun shines all day. From August to August
I moved in with brother. The only man I trust
His lady is a Beauty. Now I have the lust
My shorts are getting’ tighter. To the tub I must
Water line up, I be smokin’
Water line down, I be strokin’
Think’ bout Beauty, so there’s no pokin’
Seriously, I’m not jokin’
Another day goes by. From the tickin’ of the clock
Another year slips by. From the growth of my dreadlocks
Another chance with Beauty. Can this door be locked?
Tubbin’ ain’t just bathin’ and roosters ain’t just cocks
Water line up, I be tokin’
Water line down, she be strokin’
Here with Beauty, so lots of pokin’
But serious man, I’m not jokin’
LOVE Poem: I GUESS SHE IS RIGHT, by Tom Squitieri
She said I don’t think
You love me
As I silently melted at the
Slight curve in her neck
And imagined its taste
And then kissed it softy
She said you rarely smile
At me
As the sun bathes her beauty
In radiance, and turns her words into music.
It hid my smile as she warmed me
Just standing there
She said I think I love you more
Than you love me
As I remained in that awkward position
To see her snuggle in, watched her sleep and
whispered into
Her ear, to bring intimacy
To her dreams
You never show me
That you love me, she said,
As she adjusted her feet
To get a better massage
and felt the
Warm spring breeze, as she
Supped the tasty meal I made
for her
If you loved me
You would surprise me,
She said
As she gasped in
Astonishment when
We rounded the bend
To that glorious view
She had never knew existed
I don’t think you love me
She said
Before she shuddered in explosions
Through the night
I wonder if you love me
In many ways beyond what
You write,
She said
As she raised her head from my
Chest as her nap ended
And I brushed her beautiful hair
Tell me you love me,
She said
And all I could do was smile
So perhaps she is correct.
I guess I do not love her
And I smiled like the crescent moon
LOVE Poem: MY HEART IS A DUMPSTER FIRE, by Leslie Soule
Be careful with the wolves out there –
That go traipsing around in human skin
Eyes of glowing nightdark
They seek hearts to devour.
It’s a new generation and they’re hungry
Teeth like kitchen knives, fingers like daggers
They’ll snick your head off like taking tape
For the crime of showing a heart of paper
To crumple, and set on fire
The eighties and the nineties weren’t like this
And I look around in horror
As the trash fires burn rampant on every corner –
What the hell happened?
My heart – my poor heart was once a brimming treasure chest
But the dark world transmutes and transfigures
Hopes fly in like paper airplanes
And never sail out again.
LOVE Poetry: THE LOST THINGS, by Nicholas Fowler
We’ve broken things and smashed them,
torn them to pieces,
burned them and buried them.
Words left unspoken,
Love left unmade.
You took everything that I had,
and then you left me where I laid.
You soaked me with your love,
but then you hung me out to dry,
leaving me with nothing,
nothing but loneliness and pain inside,
when you said your goodbye,
and though you have spread your wings,
and taken flight,
we are still bound together,
by the lost things that remain.
I search in my heart,
And I search in my soul,
Where the lost things have gone,
I fear that I shall never know.
Remembering how everything,
used to glisten and gleam,
every single night I am ripped apart,
torn at the seams,
for all of these lost things,
still haunt my dreams.
I’ve climbed over mountains,
and travelled through valleys.
I’ve run through forests,
and swum across oceans.
I have dug holes,
in every lawn that I have seen,
and dove in every body of water,
whether murky or pristine.
Are they here?
Are they there?
You took everything when you left,
then dropped it everywhere,
as if you didn’t ever care,
now, I stand naked and broken,
with nothing left to bare.
The answers to the questions,
about where your love went,
I search for all over,
for every last drop that you spent.
The way you used to hold me close.
The way you melted when I touched you.
The way it felt when we became one, instead of two.
The way you said that no one could ever love me like the way you do.
The way your eyes smiled, when I lived inside them.
The way you yearned for me, to heal any problem.
These are the lost things,
that torture my soul,
and on the left side of my chest,
have left a gaping hole.
We are forever tied together,
by these lost things,
with deaf promises,
and invisible rings,
books with blank pages,
and sold-out theaters with empty stages.
Did you have to steal my heart?
Couldn’t you just have borrowed it?
No, you had to keep it for yourself,
please tell me where you left it.
Memories and phantom sensations,
hangovers from romantic intoxications.
These things used to be in a present state,
they used to be real.
Inside my body and my whole heart,
in a drunken stupor,
is where I lived.
But everything is gone now.
How could we have ever ended up this way?
Never could I have imagined,
that my love for you,
would over welcome its stay.
I kneel down to the ground,
and I wish, and I pray,
that my love for you,
might be welcomed back someday.
Until that day comes,
where you and I can find each other once more,
floating around in the infiniteness of space,
and in the womb of time,
these lost things shall remain.
LOVE Poetry: EXPLANATION TO A FLOWER, by Erik Peters
If I leave you, you’ll be trodden black
Or cut down by the mower’s shear
Or smothered by the Northwind’s cloak
At the dying time of year.
But if I cut your life-days short,
& bring your carcass to her.
Then every time she looks at me
I’ll see your long gone lustre.