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

 
electric blues infused with my soul
I come quietly into this sacred understanding
I've loved you unconditionally

unto this plane of existence, I came
I can't turn back the hands of time in this realm
but my mind is opened to the truth of us

I'm grateful you found me
in the sea of faces, you heard my music
playing on our station
and yes it's private what we feel for one another

I see your face in humanity
forgive me when I get confused
tightly wrapped to the mortal coil I get confounded
a vow I made to myself before I embarked here
I would prove your worth to the Father

I took precautions should my mission fail
coded in the universes is our passport out of here
when my life on Earth is done

for now, I will love you
the way a woman does
I see your beauty, your truth
as one we will heal

I call the stars to our aid
I've found my man or he found me
we deserve our place in the eternal
I'm not a woman of war
but I was made for such

gentle, kind, but not blind
I will seek the truth in you
I will seek the truth of me

we are ascension beings
we will walk in the sun someday
side by side. hand in hand
you're my man and I couldn't be prouder

broken in Spirit
but not faith: their
 trunks carved by Life
yet, places no blame
upon the hand
wielding the knife;
 
dry-furrowed Souls
  who continue to believe:
despite unrequited efforts
they'll never understand—
  though carry on  
  until their backs bleed;  
 
a combatant fighter
 using defensive maneuvers
to shield unhealed scars
 from future wounds—
offering nonetheless  
 themselves unto service  
whenever called upon;  
 
doesn't try to bury
  the hurt from remembering—
sits with it quietly instead
  learning the lesson it taught
  until free to move on  
 
Love is endurance—
  ceasing without end
even unto death
its capacity to give
  despite circumstance
~

he was a reflection of my inner self  
the representation of the demon in me  
caged behind the dead rose posy  
overloaded with Chanel perfume  
and the cloying scent of red wine addiction  
 
she was a virgin suicide waiting to happen  
youth and innocence her mask  
for the societal masquerade ball  
where no one is themselves  
 
she liked my smile and I liked her lies
we courted languidly beneath a blue moon  
tangled in the brambles of shame and desire  
 
our union like the birth of a black hole  
leaving our souls desolate  
and pocked with dry grass fires  
violent sparks of passion  
among the empty words we spent  
that we could live forever  
in the dark  
 
© 2012

You say it doesn't matter.
 
Whether that is true,
or just what you think
as you hide parts of you
behind the carefully polished exterior
that you want us to see;
 
the bond runs deep.
Tethered, inextricably linked,
I knew you before you knew yourself.
I wish you could grasp
part of the depth
and the breadth
and the width
and the circumference
of my love.
 
It burns strong enough
to move heaven and earth;
it feels huge enough
to fill the universe.
 
So, I will wait
and I will listen,
trying not to interrupt
as you show me who you are
and what you need.
 
I will sing it into the silences
and pour it into the places
that you allow me to see.

There may be a place
for faces like ours,
even if not on a television screen.
The boys and girls born to be seen
are not our milieu,

but in the wafting grasses of the night
a flower grows that’s just for us,
the petals prised apart
by careful hands of rain,
its scent dispersed like new gossip.

I’ve always been an ugly one.
Legs like tree trunks, chipped tooth,
a fleshy and amorphous face.

But in the sprawling human race
we are at least unique.

She emerged from the tide at twilight,
her silhouette carved of obsidian and moonlight.
Hair that could snare the stars hung damp
with brine and mystery, each strand a story
that time itself dared not unravel.

Her eyes were twin storms—
not of fire and rain, but of forgotten galaxies,
swirling with a gravity that unmade me.
In her gaze, a thousand lifetimes echoed,
a siren’s lament calling me home
to shores I’d never known.

Smoke curled from the horizon,
a strange, metallic haze
that whispered of ruin long past.
The air carried a hum,
the trembling of a cosmos on the brink.
And though I knew it was folly,
I stepped toward her.

Her voice was not of words,
but of notes plucked from the strings of creation.
She spoke in waves, in silence,
in the pull of currents that defied reason.
She told me of a world beneath the waves—
an empire of glass and shadows,
a sanctuary for those who dared leave
the burden of breath behind.

And then, she kissed me.
Not the kiss of lovers
fumbling through the fire of youth,
but an elegy—
an offering to gods older than time.
Her lips were the edge of the abyss,
her touch the unmaking of matter.
I fell into her like a comet falling into the sun.

In that moment, I glimpsed eternity:
cities folded into themselves,
skies where colors were not yet born,
and beings of light weaving time
as if it were thread.
She unraveled me until I was nothing—
and everything.

When she pulled away,
I was no longer a man.
I was a shadow stretched across aeons,
a memory of flesh and blood
adrift in the fabric of existence.

And as she slipped back into the waves,
the horizon burned brighter,
the smoke rising like a hymn to gods unseen.
She left me with nothing but the knowledge
of what could never be,
and the aching truth that she was not mine
to follow.

I return now to the waking world,
to its dullness, its weight.
But she is there in every ripple of water,
every sigh of wind.
And when I close my eyes,
I hear her still—
the hymn of the phantom tide
calling me back.

I am not the sunrise
but I should be
I should be a cascade of wind
an unfinished scent
the geometry of words
starting a fresh poem
allowing the lines on my face
to tell it all
leak the shade of grief

I should be an ounce of pride
that spills
from an assumption
of sexual symbolism
headed the wrong way
down a one way street

I should be deep darkness
where old habits live
in ignorance
in awkward silence
beneath equations of unknown

I should be scarred wounds
trying to heal
inside the spiral
of knotted cobwebs containing
tiny bits and pieces
of my heart

I should be the connection
of a mind blowing moment
shared between two lovers
in the depth of space
where God closes His eyes
and dusts the universe

I should be rain
that drips softly within
the magic of an instant
a gorgeous song sung
I should be a beautiful
waste of time
shaped as another excuse
to write this poem

I should be shapes
and colors assembled
delicate and precise
I should be wilted flowers
lying soft in whispers
of you

Not feeling
the pulse
of another person
for ten years
can wear a hole
in your skin
like a wine bottle cork
stuck in the throat
as you choke
on the thought
that this
may have been
your last sip
and the entire dance
is over,
only the next morning
you wake up
and start the dream
all over again,
and every day
is a blank canvas
that steals your breath.

runningturtle87