Tag: romance

MESS, Poetry by Damilola K Fashola

I just want to run naked through your mind. Swim through your hair before sliding down your temple and finding a bench within your earlobe. Give me the nod and backwards I will fall into you. I will fall into you. Gooey Ozzy Messy you. Dirt first. Grit first. Torment first. In your vile mediterranean I will lay and get to know you.

Genre: Love, Relationship, Romance

MESS by Damilola K Fashola

I just want to run naked through your mind. Swim through your hair before sliding down your temple and finding a bench within your earlobe. Give me the nod and backwards I will fall into you. I will fall into you. Gooey Ozzy Messy you. Dirt first. Grit first. Torment first. In your vile mediterranean I will lay and get to know you. What they all ran away from I will make love to and we will fight our demons together… Lie to me. Lie with me. Lie in my arms. Let us become liars who lie together. Your a mess and I love it. I’m a mess to. Can we be friends? Can we be more than friends? Nah I’ll probably mess it up and we’d become a big mess like one of the pieces of my life lying on the floor you just walked over. I’m tryna tell you something. I’m tryna tell you something deeper than me. And already you’ve hurt my feelings and I’m here taking it more personal than I should. I’m becoming emotional. I’m being emotional. Sorry I get that way at times. Thats just the peak of my flaws and no its not because I have a vagina but I’m human just like you and though you’re taught not to be expressive about it… I no you feel. I know it hurts sometimes and you have no one to call on and sometimes you try to call out but your voice is lost under sniggers and suppressed thoughts of not being allowed to. Your allowed to. Around me you’re allowed to be you. Flaws and all. I promise not to use them against you. Though I’m blunter than your average. So I might… without knowing so and for that, I ask you to forgive me now. If we’re ever gonna work that is. Do you want us to work. Maybe we shouldn’t.. Your a mess, I’m a mess. two messes…

Can we make love happen?

Poetry by Fernanda Wilt

There it is, lurking, the past

Comes smooth, quietly

And dump over them, as a wave

The damned nostalgia

Streets that run in parallel

But never find exit

Genre: love, life, romance, sad, nostalgia, and hope

Poetry by Fernanda Wilt

There it is, lurking, the past

Comes smooth, quietly

And dump over them, as a wave

The damned nostalgia

Streets that run in parallel

But never find exit

In the present what are they waiting for?

The world to go around

And to overturn your ways

So your patches will meet again

Spin world, the pivot, as it says a song

Spin, faster, hurry up

Pass the time, torment

And put them again in the right patch

In the past, wasted, nothing was build

And in the future, dreamed, is where they look for haven

There it is, gloomy, the past

Remembering the delayed present

Delaying the wanted future

 

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A Brief Encounter, Poetry by H. Alahmad

It was cloudy

And the thunder was rowdy

Suddenly an angel descended from heaven

And called me at eleven

Genre: Love, Rhyme, Romance

A Brief Encounter by H. Alahmad

 

It was cloudy

And the thunder was rowdy

Suddenly an angel descended from heaven

And called me at eleven

 

We met at a place of festivity

I felt I am outside the bounds of gravity

I wanted to fly

High in the sky

 

She said buy me a lollipop

And take me to a bookshop

 

If I liked books before

Today I adore them more than my Porsche four by four

Because they will testify that my encounter was real

Although it was surreal

 

My angel was gorgeous

Like a rose from Damascus

She has beautiful eyelashes

Those convert the heart into ashes

 

She was so white

And her teeth were so bright

Her voice was like music to my ears

But it brought to my eyes tears

When she said I have to go

It was like the end of the show

 

I wanted time to freeze

I kept saying please please please

But time had no mercy on me

And refused my plea

 

Time has a heart made of stone

And refused to give me a loan

All I wanted is one extra minute

But I was unfortunate

 

The books were crying

And words were dying

When she said bye

And ascended high

 

I wish I was shot

And buried on that spot

The books will be my coffin

And words will be my next of kin

 

It was a brief encounter

It was a brief encounter

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CinDER, Poetry by Sheen Francis Reyes

And then you implode
Your toes curl
You bury your face in the pillow
Whispering I miss you
And his name over and over

Genre: Love, Romantic, Relationship

CinDER by Sheen Francis Reyes

https://sheenfrancisreyes.wordpress.com/2015/09/22/cinder/

And then you implode
Your toes curl
You bury your face in the pillow
Whispering I miss you
And his name over and over
Until your voice whimper
Your eyes fill up with tears
For the painful void in your chest reminds you
He’s not with you
You and your own skin are alone
All you have are the images inside your head
And the cinder he left you with
Which every cell in your body craves to burn

 

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The Day Before You Came, Poetry by Martina Moriarty McCarthy

I have always lived in the moment
never worried about the future
never questioned the past

‘You’
have turned a page in the book-of-life.

Soliloquy

Applause

Genre: Life, People, Romance

The Day Before You Came by Martina Moriarty McCarthy

I have always lived in the moment
never worried about the future
never questioned the past

‘You’
have turned a page in the book-of-life.

Soliloquy

Applause

I have excavated your existence from a concrete floor in the
out-house of my mind wearing a stained dress
of Golden thread, with one desire to bring you home.

My acid fears and burning tears spilled on Naked ground,
my shattered heart still beating Blood as I drilled without a sound
the cracks they came a creaking as I was on my knees,
I felt the earth beneath me t’was then I heard you breathe.

With eyes as bright as spot-lights to search the living Dead!
I dug my fingers deep into this Room inside my head
Frantic was my tool of choice its all I have to offer
you are worth your ‘wait’ in gold like I know…No Other.

I saw your hand reach out to me I Grabbed it with my mouth-
my lips a grip… a Mothers ‘tale’ the gate-way past the hounds.
Not a word was spoken,
no praise or criticize
a mission just to clarify your unseen ultra-sound?

I looked at you this morning,
you studied me in quest
that begged the question who are you?
and why you quietly left
I’v never liked my shadow
for I was only two… when you escaped…but no one sees I found myself in you.

My words to you this new born day, are for eyes-and-ears alone
No matter what your purpose is your blessed that you were born.
I made my bed this evening, and lie in it I shall
no covers here but fearless needs, in the birth of life’s canal.

 

 

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Is It Love?, Poetry by Fatima Begum

Am I in love? Or am I in love with love?

Is such a question necessary, when someone is in love? When it is me, I, myself, that is in love? The writer? Or would one call me a poet?

Unless, poetry demands me to fall in love, just so that I can write about love?
But, wait, dear sir, dear madam, what is love?

Genre: Philosophical and Romance

Is It Love? by Fatima Begum

Am I in love? Or am I in love with love?

Is such a question necessary, when someone is in love? When it is me, I, myself, that is in love? The writer? Or would one call me a poet?

Unless, poetry demands me to fall in love, just so that I can write about love?
But, wait, dear sir, dear madam, what is love?

A feeling? A tingly sensation? Happiness, followed by lack of sleep?
Waiting for him to arrive? To hear his voice, for his call? For his sweet touch, his finger to slide across your bare shoulders? For his eyes, that gaze, which holds such intensity? His smiles? Smiles reserved for only your eyes?

Or is it all a weakness? One word, and every limb in your body is alert. One touch, and your body shivers with excitement. Or, is it from fear? One look, and you feel your knees buckle. You’re just slightly dizzy, your excuse to others. Slightly flustered, you mumble whilst fanning yourself with your hand. But the smile. One smile, and your heart pounds against your ribs. Surely your ribs will explode? You can’t stop questioning. Can you? Is this just an excuse?

Truly, what is love?

Defeat? Who truly has control of your emotions? Is it not him? A word from him can make you smile. Yet, a word from him, can make you shed a tear. A word from him can make you hold your stomach with laughter. Yet, a word from him, can make you rage with anger. But, it is you who control your emotions, right?

Manipulation? He knows how you feel. He knows how you feel about him. But do you, yourself, know how you feel? How you feel about him? He asks you to commit a task. For him only, he states clearly. Your love permits it, he adds. Such smooth silky voice. You are against it. Truth be told, morals dictate that you must not carry out such a task. But it is love. Is love not worth it? Should one not do something, anything, everything for love? It has clouded your judgement. Although, is that not what love is?

But, then, you open your eyes. Are you in love? Were you in love? And, who was he that convinced you of love? A stranger you perhaps bumped into? A brief acquaintance from the past, an acquaintance who decided to taunt you in your dreams after years of complete silence.

No. You’ve never experienced it, so how can you know what love is? If you do not know what love is, how do you know if it is love?

So, am I in love, if I have no idea what love is? Or, am I another hopeless case, who has fallen in love with love itself. Do I want to fall in love and have him swipe me off my feet? Or do I want to fight it, so that only I, myself, can hold onto and control my emotions?

I’ve heard that one’s emotion is a powerful tool. So who should stay in power? Me or him? Or me and him?

By Fatima Begum

I ask again, is it love, for I do not know what love is?

 

 

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Stranger In Love…., Poetry by Poetess Chantelle Cherie

Late night on the I can’t sleep train… It just keeps going Nowhere Fast and Time Is not of essence unfortunately. The only thing I can think is Write a Write of Feeling that stows upon me this evening. And so with Her Magical Pen and this in heart she began ~

Genre: Love, Romance, Loneliness

Stranger In Love….

Late night on the I can’t sleep train…  It just keeps going Nowhere Fast and Time Is not of essence unfortunately. The only thing I can think is Write a Write of Feeling that stows upon me this evening. And so with Her Magical Pen and this in heart she began ~

Stranger things have Happened I must Say. It must lead to something greater than the unknown I pray it leads me straight to You and You to Me anticipation it has killed me before I feel it’s different this time though….. Beautiful?! One might ask: My Reply is only this to you, Beyond Beautiful He is  indeed but of this you would only know if my eyes were yours for a moment in this time to see just as I see He. Stranger things as said have happened indeed. Scared? Yes!!!! Terrified if I must add, Not of One Another But of Each Self and what we both harbor. “What If” we just gave up He on I and I on He “What if” I don’t want that to be Our Goodbye; We Just Began this journey him and I  “What if” Is not in Our Stars so why  are we Fighting A War Within  knowing The outcome of Our own self Battle Neither one of us has yet to win. I give you this very day the key to my domain my Sacred Place Very few have ever been allowed in please remember they don’t make duplicates be cautious yet gentle what your holding Is beyond repair if ever broken or filled with despair. One last thing I must write on the lines of your Soul, so if ever apart you may hear them whisper upon every beat of your heart: Not by Accident……Coincidence Agreed! Only Angels hear the tears of pain we cry the ones that fall from our eyes and flood our souls beyond our control… Perhaps we pained simultaneously that day for we may never know how our story was told only how it’s supposed to read: You ~ Me ~ Our beautiful destiny.

Copyrighted 2016

Written by: Poetess Chantelle Cherie
Keep Calm
Write On

 

 

 

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Ghost of my love, Poetry Mandar Naik

Last night I saw ghost of my love

It stood in the window, looking above.

It looked pale, tired and in despair,

As if it had just arrived from a crowded fair.

Genre: Rhyme, Romance, Love

Ghost of my love
by Mandar Naik

Last night I saw ghost of my love

It stood in the window, looking above.

It looked pale, tired and in despair,

As if it had just arrived from a crowded fair.

I was scared to see its darkest eyes,

Still hoping to give it one more rise.

Its deep buried smell of past,

Made me feel disturbed and aghast.

It pleaded me for a single sight,

to remember those days, tears and fight.

That endless waiting, those arms and songs to sing

Those rains, those touches, don’t you remember anything?

I said I have buried what all has gone

Those dreams withered, leaving me alone.

On the grounds of dried tears, I have sown phony smiles,

Guarding them from looming reminiscences reverting from long miles.

When you were alive, I had lived too merrily

Each day was bliss and slept dreamily.

Never knew you will leave me midway,

In the dark caves of sorrows without any ray.

I have managed to come over those mystic chants,

Which led me again & again into vicious rants.

It was a long way & it is foregone

Now I do not wish to remember & bemoan.

 

You go again into the deepest of my heart,

Never to revert again, never again to mar.

Never again scare me, never again rise.

I have given everything I had now to become empty & wise.

The Ghost looked at me proudly with a beaming smile,

Embracing my wet heart, waning in a while.

Said it, it will never ever reoccur from the depths

And sleep a long dream with eyes wept.

It disappeared from the window, I stood for a while.

Paying homage to my dead love & memories of time.

Then came down the rain to wet my mind

It washed away my past, sowing seeds of hope behind.

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Nothing Wilts, Poetry by Caiubi Maranho

Nothing wilts The proof of
damage The meeting of our
will The meaning The almost
taste It is our most prized
possession Where do we live
our dreams This is where the

Genre: Romance

Nothing Wilts
by Caiubi Maranho

Nothing wilts The proof of
damage The meeting of our
will The meaning The almost
taste It is our most prized
possession Where do we live
our dreams This is where the
completed And are The
distracted eyes looking in silence
we confirm be clean
Then be sad Then be eternal
For one day tear surrender
The voice in unissom design
” I love you” Just then leaves
flourish Monsoon wait certainties
wasted Honesties the road
Until his call Prosperity
renewing See the two
in the future Together Treasure
that old souls keep to be
reborn every day
For a two day be a
At the age of heaven
And honor the big night
And generation after generation
Waiting to hope
A love that makes sense

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A Four-Letter Word, Poetry by Caro Ness

Love is just a four-letter word
Like long, or like, or wish, or hope,
Yet, though it may seem quite absurd,
It encircles the heart with silken rope,
And makes each day seem bright and new,
With myriad wonderful things to do.

Genre: Romance, Relationship, Humor

A Four-Letter Word

by Caro Ness

Love is just a four-letter word
Like long, or like, or wish, or hope,
Yet, though it may seem quite absurd,
It encircles the heart with silken rope,
And makes each day seem bright and new,
With myriad wonderful things to do.
No hill too steep, no road too far,
To be precisely where YOU are!
You, the lover, you the muse,
You the beautiful dancing shoes
That sashay into the mind, the brain,
And linger, like a sweet refrain,
That needs discovering again and again….



Love is just a four letter word,
Like sing, or grin, or feel or hold,
Yet it’s the icing on the cake,
The greatest story ever told.
It’s the fizz in a fine champagne,
It’s the huff and puff of an old steam train
The breeze breathing gently on your face
The intricacies of a piece of lace,
It’s euphoria, it’s a dream
It’s the cherry on top of a large ice cream,
It’s a name you can’t ignore
If I’m the apple, your its core,
It’s a megatastic superstore.
Love is just a four-letter word,
But oh, it is so much MORE.

 

 

 

 

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