Monday, March 27, 2006

Love Poems

Let's write love poems. No, not to each other. Write yours, and give it to the person that you love, or like. Or you can just put it in a safe place and save it for later. Here's mine:

Rest here in the crook of my arm,
relax yourself in my embrace,
remember this moment always
your very presence gives this place
permanent registry within my mind
unnatural ability to confine
our hearts, our very essence,
together in a life-giving,
rhythmic dance.

Rest here in the crook of my arm,
let me relax in your embrace,
remind me of this moment always
never remove your presence from this place
this redeemed realm within my mind
which resonates with warm echoes
of your voice, your touch, your smell.

Rest here in the crook of my arm,
relax yourself in my embrace,
I'll recall every detail, the perfect particulars,
the finer features of your face
from this moment to the next
as time passes, seasons change,
and we grow old together.


9 Comments:

Blogger Wikkid Person said...

Uncertain Ruth

Awaking,

I saw you standing like an uncertain Ruth
I lurched gracelessly to my undisturbed feet
And let out the merest fraction of an embrace
But did not kiss your cheek, your hair, your neck
Because this was not desired.

Breathless,

You ran down the steps to the waiting car
Too quickly, too lightly to leave footprints in the fallen, lamplit snow
That, on its way to trampled, gritty ruin,
In impatient, drifting, latticework flakes leaned down
And, by twos and threes,

Jostled

To boldly kiss your hair, your neck, your cheek,
Come silently from the leaden sky
With no dearer dream than one of

Falling,
Falling,
Falling

Through the Brooklyn night

And briefly
Touching

Something soft and warm
On the way to its inevitable ruin.

11:35 PM  
Blogger Wordsmyth said...

now THAT'S a good poem.

12:34 AM  
Blogger Wikkid Person said...

Thanks.

Arise fair rose and raise your head
Ever heav'n-ward and sun-led
For fain uplift thee now I would
But that thou thinkest it were rude.

With a wry word and one that’s quick
You know, my rose, I am your prick,
Your thorny stem, your stalk and root
Conspire to leave us with no fruit.

A face that’s fair, perennially cold
A hand to turn away the bold
An eye to glaze and disallow
Alas dear one, what hast thou now?

No longer met, and never found
In common bed, on common ground
No more to rise, nor loins well-girt
What was alive mould'ring in dirt.

What's ripe, unpicked, will surely rot
Then die unfelt, unlived, unthought
Sad summer's fields frostbit by fright
Gone gardens of earthly delight.

6:38 AM  
Blogger paula said...

i was working on my own, but next to you two, i look like a klutz.

11:44 PM  
Blogger Wikkid Person said...

Well, stop being an ass and share what you got. I did.

12:07 AM  
Blogger Wordsmyth said...

yeah ... share what you've got.

"Rap is comin' home to the South. Everybody has the right ... *puff* ... to contribute a verse." -the white guy in Hustle & Flow

5:11 PM  
Blogger paula said...

then, i knew you, i knew you.

your hands, and your silence
your gaze and your words
your faith, and your battles
your actions and voice



i still know you.


i know you


you’re trying to forget
that you know me too

8:29 AM  
Blogger Wikkid Person said...

wow! Romance lives in you after all! Good job.

4:46 PM  
Blogger Wordsmyth said...

I'm glad we've heard from another poet. I know there are still more out there. C'mon ... share your poem. We're all friends here.

5:11 PM  

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