SHARE DU’s MOST IMPACTFUL~MERITORIOUS LOVE POEMS(4anthology)

{iii}
i do not want you
in my bed
nor memories
of your
bitten-to-the-quick-nails
folded into
creased sheets
still warm from
the impressions of
last night,
my thighs
aching
from the ghost
of your weight
or the shadow of
your touch
lingering
in lingerie seams

{ii}
i am
bereft
wanting and not,
needing but
too consumed
with self-preservation
to consider
the two of us

{i}
all he wanted
was a whore
he wouldn't have
to pay

And so at last, you sleep,    
in the circle of my arms    
that push back the shadows so that you can rest vegetables, seaweed, herbs:    
the foam of your dreams.    
PABLO NERUDA    
   
I once had a striker plate    
where my chest is    
so that whenever someone fell into my arms    
they would ignite in pretty pictures    
a bonfire to the throes of lust    
the scent of sex and libertine-want hung about    
me as if I was the perfume aisle in the drug store    
cloying and thick with the regret of    
loneliness    
and longing for more than a spark that fizzled out    
burnt too bright and left us both scarred    
   
the protection I offered a facade of fake    
and gaudy baubles    
there was no rest    
no time for it in between    
the consumption of flesh    
I forgot that I was human in the    
search    
as if sex was the end game    
the pillar to base my worth as man upon    
   
it’s a hollow existence    
pleasure fleeting    
shallow in its frantic here    
now    
take me    
use me    
till we’re both strung out    
and lost    
addicts clinging to the cravings    
to the fall into the wrong things    
   
until the quiet in the dark    
when you’re alone with your fleeing thoughts    
   
I craved in the way    
hyenas bark and yip at scurrying food    
in the ways sharks glide through the depths    
alone and hungering with dead eyes    
and a mouth full of daggers    
in the ways of a lure fish    
shine a light    
as a beacon for prey to fall into my devouring mouth    
   
and as the years have gone the fire in my loins has quelled    
every dark twisted moment makes itself clear to my    
tired eyes    
that being in love with the idea of lust is    
nothing more than fools gold    
   
I realise this as your hands    
stroke the muscles in my back    
and tension leaves me at a loss    
for words    
   
I roll over    
take your fingers and press them against my lips    
pull you down onto my chest    
content for your ear to rest upon my heart    
have every broken urge    
silence the striker plate    
til it’s nothing  
   
that’s not to say I don’t want you    
but it is to say    
I don’t want you just for sex    
I want you in all your mess and splendour    
every mixed metaphor    
and explanation so you can see    
through my words and deeds that    
I desire you    
for you    
   
and when you capitulate in your need    
and I mine    
we connect on a level deeper than skin    
deeper than I though possible    
with just my meager words    
   
lay with me in these fresh sheets    
and let me bathe in    
your gentle flame

There is a time in a child's life  
when we realize  
they are no longer a child  
 
Wasn't I just in the delivery room
yesterday afternoon?
 
A beam of light  
outlines a young man  
no longer a little boy
and a hard realization  
that change is coming
all too soon
 
In less than two years  
he will be driving  
in less than four  
he will be graduating
 
We are destined  
to ask ourselves  
if we did the best we could  
with the time we had  
 
If we loved enough
if we guided in truth
if we provided enough  
room for choices  
of their own  
 
Whether we agreed
or not
 
That answer varies  
per individual
 
For me, the answer will come  
not when he has to be here  
for holidays or afterschool
 
but when he returns  
on his own  
for a homecooked meal  
or a heart-to-heart  
with his Nana
who loves him  
more than anything  
in this world
 
as the child he was
and the adult he becomes
regardless of his choices

Gone again, you've left with the sun,
my run away muse, my half-written poem.  
The sky is such a devastating shade of blue
and so is the moon when I open my eyes.
 
Your ardent soul still sings  
the music of an endless age
and I dance to the sound of it,  
divine upon the tongues of leaves.
 
When all that shines has faded,  
and my tears for you become the stars,
I will imagine my heart to be  
the only living thing among them.  
 
My lover, my imperfection, my bluest desire,  
how desperately I've searched  
for that last, torrid line...
 
But all I found was you:
the most beautiful love poem I've never written

The way the firelight plays  
on your skin entrances me
so much that I forgot to laugh  
at the last dirty joke
you whispered in my ear
 
You’ve never been more beautiful.
 
My breath catches
and my fucking marshmallow
falls in the damn dirt,
eliciting what you later
decree as the some of the best  
swearing you’ve ever heard
 
And you laugh because I’m  
super pissed that golden masterpiece
with the perfectly squishy inside was  
now ant food
 
So you lean in,
and watch my face  
as you feed me yours  
 
My eyes close as
your thumb finds its  
way inside my mouth  
And like that…
 
Just like that...  
my sticky hands reach for you
crush your face to mine  
and push your shirt up
to feel your chest warm my skin
 
I need you.  
I need you now.
 
All of the yesterdays of need  
compound to this great space  
that only feels full  
when you’re in me
 
I can hear the fire pop  
as my back presses into the  
into the dirt,
next to our pyre
and our hands twist the
grass like silk sheets
 
If I could speak in firelight
my love,
your name would
be a shadow
moving slowly,
stoking coals
against my soft flesh.
 
And you’ve  
never been
more beautiful.
 
 
 
 
 
 

There’s hope in white wine
How it pours into  
Crystal cups swirling around
Like a gentle crisp hurricane
 
Waiting to be sipped
Washing away my insides
Stripping away my self doubt
With its bubbling tingles
 
As I sit on our front porch
With no make-up on Thanksgiving  
In 65 degree Florida weather
By our small Palm Trees  
 
With strung white lights  
A tradition started two years ago
Our young skyscraper trunks
That continue to grow
 
Symbolic with its  
Towering future of love  
Flexible in raging  
Storms and disagreements
 
That always seem to
Happen after midnight
Because it’s the law of love
To be addressed immediately
 
Waiting for morning
Is for wimps because
We love like hurricanes
At home with the rain
 
Still standing in the  
Aftermath of climate and
Tangled bed sheets
Because we bend
 
Like devotion
Like Palm Trees

 
sunlight filters through the trees  
and kisses my skin
I looked to the skies
smiling inside myself
the tree guardians look on in approval
 
my oldest friends...the trees
my protectors when I was afraid
confidants when I need to talk
no mortals would ever know the secrets--
the trees kept hidden
 
they still watch me today from the gardens
warding off evil intent
nothing wicked this way comes
while they are on guard
 
my spirit is one with the trees
as their branches reach to the heavens
swaying in the winds
sending prayers skyward
 
inside me, I hear them chant in unison
it's like the beating of an ancient drum
they are the heartbeat of the Earth
keeping all-natural order
they are the great watchers
recording the comings and goings of mankind
 
when I had no mother to hold me
the trees did  
they sang me lullabies  
in the tousling of their leaves
and the creaking of their limbs
I found safety in their arms
 
our secrets kept these many years
we come together again
today I sing to them  
sending my love on the winds
 
may it reach their ears
for we are one