As morning hues of sun-swept fire caress your passionate face, alone with thee a pure desire to worship untold grace.
My soul would cry in silent prayer toward hours swept apart.
Your essence warms the evening air as I dance into your hearts.
A Cold Cup of Tea
Everything is still..
The others, snore softly..
I have a headache..
Unable to get back to sleep..
My thoughts swirl..
My pulse races..
I step over you...
Out into the hall..
I start the stove,
Put water in the kettle..
Maybe a cup of tea,
Will do the trick...
I look out the window..
The lake is still..
Peaceful..
The moon's reflection glows..
What might have been..
What could be..
What should have been..
What will never be..
Lost in my head..
The kettle whistles..
Startling me..
I set to work..
Two sugars..
A splash of milk..
Boiling water..
Twinnings Irish Tea bag..
The hinges scream..
Seemingly so much louder..
I pass through..
The door closes with a thump..
The night is quiet..
So dark here under the trees..
The moons light obscured..
The air cool on my exposed skin..
I take a sip of my tea..
It warms me as it goes down..
I walk to the edge of the deck,
Walk down the steps..
The grass is wet..
The predawn dew..
In the fire pit,
A few embers glow..
My thoughts turn to you..
You've been here all along..
Right before my eyes..
But I never saw you..
Now that I do,
Do you see me?
The wood of the dock,
Sturdy and dry under my feet..
I leave a trail..
You protect me..
Tiny wet footprints..
You encourage me..
The water laps gently at the dock..
You've seen the inner me..
The me not many get to see..
You didn't leave..
The moon hangs low..
You always smile when I catch your eye..
The silver light a beacon..
Like life is our inside joke..
It's still..
Quiet..
I am alone..
I pull my shirt off..
You always see through my mask..
You know when I'm hurting..
You can always make me smile..
If only for a minute..
The moon bathes me in his silver light..
You see me completely..
But I don't know how to make you,
See me in a different light..
My skin glows in the moonlight..
I slide my panties down my legs..
Naked, free..
In the cool night air..
The moon looks down..
A deserted dock..
Some discarded clothes..
A cold cup of tea..
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
- Pablo Neruda's If You Forget Me
I don't personally know the guy who wrote this (or his actual name for that matter), but I've read a few of his poems on the web and while all of his pieces are brilliant, I really fell in love with this one in particular...
'Oui, Eu-peut Etre'
I am dreaming.
The red becomes the blue
and all the colors of
your mythologies flutter restless
through the runaway blush of November skies.
Yellow has loved, now yearning
to transform in to the number six.
If only seven could see the things
I see, I wonder if she would
also scribe profanities upon
your temples and
breathe life in to the nine
holes of your reed body.
The liquidity, the melodies
of your blissful aching;
perfect fifths and minor sevenths.
And I know that I am awake
for I am dreaming that too
in the silence of song and shadow
the remembrance of a beating heart.
Still, I am nothing.
Perhaps each glance mere tempered fancy
save the ghosts of silk and icandescence
nor the winds of glass and ironbark
as I longed for your tongue,
your words upon my eyes
when the moon kissed the horizon
And I am dreaming on tiptoe
so as not to awake
my sleeping lover.
I've shown this one to a few girls on here, and they hardly believe it's my writing. I wonder why.
Ten Thousand
Ten thousand times a single day,
I think upon your grace.
Ten thousand times I turn away,
from fate's most cold embrace.
For you I'd brave ten thousand snows,
ten thousand miles of rain,
I'd shield from you ten thousand blows,
ten thousand times again.
Ten thousand times you pierce my heart,
each single tear that drops.
My heart for each long hour apart,
ten thousand times thus stops.
Ten thousand lives alone I'd live,
ten thousand times I'd die,
I would ten thousand lifetimes give,
to die once by your side.
Ten thousand things I wish to say,
ten thousand times unsaid.
In pain and pride I take my place,
ten thousand times I'm bled.
Ten thousand things I beg of fate,
ten thousand times in vain.
Ten thousand hours long I wait,
ten thousand drops of pain.
Ten thousand lines I could write,
for you ten thousand songs,
but no, I wrote not wrongful rights,
but ten thousand rightful wrongs.
You will not find in ten thousand men,
a single man like me,
though ten thousand times your love imprisoned,
my love will set me free.
Oh yeah, everyone here can feel free to plagiarize me and claim you wrote it, and give it to your bf/gf. I'd rather my work go to some use instead of rotting on my hard drive.
That's very impressive. You have a lot of talent man.
it's wonderful!
*bows*
i wrote a similar poem.. but mine is better:
Ten Thousand and One
Ten thousand and one times a single day,
I think upon your grace.
Ten thousand and one times I turn away,
from fate's most cold embrace.
For you I'd brave ten thousand and one snows,
ten thousand and one miles of rain,
I'd shield from you ten thousand and one blows,
ten thousand and one times again.
etc etc. Just saying. I probably get laid so much more than you with my poem.
In all the vastness of my wit, none is found,
a rightful adjective with which to crown,
your uncommon commonalities with lower grace,
so scanty and so foreign to my face,
Suffice it then for it be said,
"thou'st jargon hath maketh ears bled,"
and if you won't spare me of thy lament,
be hushed at least for the innocent.
Well it's not a romantic poem, but one of my favorites is "On Time" by John Milton:
Fly, envious Time, till thou run out thy race:
Call on the lazy leaden-stepping Hours,
Whose speed is but the heavy plummet’s pace;
And glut thyself with what thy womb devours,
Which is no more than what is false and vain,
And merely mortal dross;
So little is our loss,
So little is thy gain!
For, when as each thing bad thou hast entombed,
And, last of all, thy greedy Self consumed,
Then long eternity shall greet our bliss
With an individual kiss,
And joy shall undertake us as a flood;
When everything that is sincerely good
And perfectly divine,
With Truth, and Peace, and Love, shall ever shine
About the supreme Throne
Of Him, to whose happy-making sight alone
When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb,
Then, all this earthly grossness quit,
Attired with stars we shall forever sit,
Triumphing over Death, and Chance, and thee,
O Time!
Opinion
2Opinion
Exam exam go away,
Come again another year,
Vacation vacation come fast
You are the dream of exam time
But when you come we get bored
And when you go we get worried
For the year that is waiting ahead
With all the troubles new and old
By Salini Varghese
Run chicken run.
The farmers got the gun
The wife has the oven hot
And your the one.
So run and run
So you don't get served with a bun
Twinkle, twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are
Up above the world so high
Like a diamond in the sky
Twinkle, twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are
Twinkle, twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are
Up above the world so high
Like a diamond in the sky
Twinkle, twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are
When the blazing sun has gone
When he nothing shines upon
Then you show your little light
Twinkle, twinkle through the night
Twinkle, twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are
Twinkle, twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are
Up above the world so high
Like a diamond in the sky
Twinkle, twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are
...
You kissed me! My head drooped low on your breast
With a feeling of shelter and infinite rest,
While the holy emotions my tongue dared not speak,
Flashed up as in flame, from my heart to my cheek;
Your arms held me fast; oh! your arms were so bold-
Heart beat against heart in their passionate fold.
Your glances seemed drawing my soul through mine eyes,
As the sun draws the mist from the sea to the skies.
Your lips clung to mine till I prayed in my bliss
They might never unclasp from the rapturous kiss.
You kissed me! My heart, my breath and my will
In delirious joy from a moment stood still.
Life had for me then no temptations, no charms,
No visions of rapture outside of your arms;
And were I this instant an angel possessed
Of the peace and the joy that belong to the blest,
I would fling my white robes unrepiningly down,
I would tear from my forehead its beautiful crown,
To nestle once more in that haven of rest-
Your lips upon mine, my head on your breast.
You kissed me: My soul in a bliss so divine
Reeled and swooned like a drunkard when foolish with wine,
And I thought 'twere delicious to die there, if death
Would but come while my lips were yet moist with your breath;
While your arms clasped me round in that blissful embrace,
While your eyes melt in mine could e'en death e'er efface-
Oh, these are the questions I ask day and night:
Must my lips taste no more such exquisite delight?
Would you wish that your breast were my shelter as then?
And if you were here, would you kiss me again?
"Goodbye My Love, goodbye"
Fire runs through my body with the pain of loving you.
Pain runs through my body with the fires of my love for you.
Pain like a boil about to burst with my love for you.
Consumed by fire of my love for you.
I remember what you said to me,
I am thinking of your love for me.
I am torn by your love for me.
Pain and more pain.
Where are you going with my love?
I'm told you will go from here.
I'm told you will leave me here.
My body is numb with grief.
Remember what I said My Love
Goodbye My Love, goodbye.
- Anon, Kwakiutl indian poem, 1896
The warmth
In my mouth.
That rush
Through my veins
Making my heart race
My pulse quicken
My head
Just a bit dizzy.
My legs are just a bit numb.
My tongue
Yearns for more
More of you
Right now.
Now.
I can't wait anymore.
This is torture.
Seriously.
I'm in hell
Waiting for you.
I just want to shout
To this giant crowd of people
"How hard is it to make a latte, f***ers?"
I love you, coffee
I guess you wouldn't exactly call this romantic, but I fell in love with the deep feeling of this poem:
Translated from Russian:
I loved you; and perhaps I love you still,
The flame, perhaps, is not extinguished; yet
It burns so quietly within my soul,
No longer should you feel distressed by it.
Silently and hopelessly I loved you,
At times too jealous and at times too shy.
God grant you find another who will love you
As tenderly and truthfully as I.
-Alexander Pushkin
To be honest I can not remember the name but it was of a young maiden who had died and grief stricken looked listlessly from the closest point she could get to earth from heaven. Her lover was below he was also sad but she was so touching in the way that the poet described her. Maybe someone can recall it and please name it and the author :) It was very moving
The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever,
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle;--
Why not I with thine?
Shelley is great.
Welts on a Persion sink lodging
Oh, crust my days for a swine
Breaks master, six fins
doth artful drains caution
My winsome wings, fingerlings
barking, nay, dodging
Yet ripping back, fitting, ran on
Lake fester toddle ran on...
That's nice =) I don't really read poetry much, so I like the rare one's I've written that actually sounds good.
I'd give an example, but I can't take my phone out in class lol I'll put one down in comments later.
English poems suck...
german is so much better. just sayin.
AWWW its a sweet poem. I really like it
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