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Epic Love Poems | Epic Poems About Love

These Epic Love poems are examples of Epic poems about Love. These are the best examples of Epic Love poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad | |

Death of the Poet Destroyer

~The Untold Fatal Attraction Poem~

Mid-morning she sees the sun ahead
Her death flowed in a messaged bottle
Gazing into her brown eyes upon all open sores,
Her conscience dark and gray a never-ending war!
A giant cyclone of a thousand thoughts swirled around this little girl.
Inflicting away the pain, through the comfort of others pen
The way she twisted and twisted life’s perception was out of her control
Inside she knew the glass slipper was never hers to show off
 
She is baring nothing but a tainted pen, walking throughout eternity’s sand
A prosecutor of misdeeds, accomplishing what, without knowing the way
Departing from her fractured self, she begins to slip into a righteous form,
Twirling her twilight's pen like a baton, spinning it to one final stand
 
She awakens in a dream, where her sadness does not allow the light to reform
Her body is weak and pale against the birth of her undying sun
Staring down into the deepness of every-bodies abyss
Inside all souls is where she felt lighter, than the retarded sun gives
A crimson sky follows her just to reveal her diminished soul,
A life of shunning out the city glow will always dwell deep inside her
Sleeping under society as one, insulting the taste of innocent blood
Forgetting the vengeance, in a dimension where the pen is mightier than the sword
 
How did she let it come to this?
In one feeling she fell in love with the spirit of the living rhyme 
Watching from a cave, with a diabolical look
Refusing to grasp the self - nature and kill off the destroyer's will
A price beyond this enigmatic world, craving to be just like them
Condemning her meaning to a blasphemy of white butterflies
Destroying her poetic meaning that was destined to dance a tangle of endless rage
In love with the essence of her deceased will
She clings on to the dimness and brilliance at the same time
All corpses lost beyond the girl in question,
Sympathetic in a bizarre language, she mutters out sweetness
Her heart mended, recognizing all the adoration and poetic addiction
Exchanging the real terror, fixated by the life force of her poetic destruction
Giving birth to a new revelation
Now she will never deceive her love for the making of true art,
Not wanting to belong in this wretched world with her destroying criteria,
Her soul sails looking for a new era where love will no longer generate
As she loathes the love and decides not to destroy this generation with hate

At last, longing this one day with the angel of death
With a closing teardrop, one last thought
My death will not be the end; only the ascension~

by;pd


Details | Epic | |

Gothic Love Grind

I find you alone
in your favorite room of sorrow and suspense,
the woman I cherish more than victory or divine sense,
long untouched, you stare into a sonnet of romantic sadness,
supple shadows dress you in stubborn, gothic passion, a quiet finesse,
they know that I am the speed of your tears and the lover in your trance,
as I see what your heart has wept for, tender acceptance
I understand why my soul seeks your emotional opulence, 
with my powerful hands I hug those lonely, sexy shoulders of tired independence, 
knowing by the ease of your neck's pining tilt, by the searching gap of your starving lips
no longer are you startled by our love, no more will you deny the lust righteous,
gliding the backs of my fingers up under your smooth chin skin, beauty so generous,
I find you passion thrown,

I undo your bodice and your soft feminine flesh opens onto me
radiating craving that glorifies yearning,
I entreat you to grab my hard affection, to feel the firm rush replete
to place the head of my love within you like a heavy heartbeat,
you obey with unquestioning need, eyes alight, thighs wide
I lunge in deeply, completely, pushing through you a pleasure tide
as you breathe in the handsome shock of your fulfillment
I kiss the soft space inbetween your sumptuous breasts and taste wild wonderment -

J.A.B.


Details | Alliteration | |

Images of feathers

"Once upon a midnight Poe"

Underneath my midnight mask, I remove, the makeup at last,
The moon is anvil to my mood, mooring along the vacant vast 
I lay the Gin and Tonic, by my bedside, asking for more,
I hear a noise, a lost voice, the echoes of no rejoice,
I could not ignore the light coming from the cracks in the open door
Giving it some thought, 
My eyes twinkle, towards the tinsel tiles on the floor
Seemingly the light seems to be deeming, a distance, of resistance
Curiosity, came a crawling, and caressing, 
To feel and taste, sinful skin, 
Everything then, grew thinner than thin,
Suddenly, I hear a whisper, my love is near
"Darkness there, and nothing more."

A nerve impulse, hits the wall, of nothing nary, nevertheless 
I sadistically, stagger a sullen movement, notwithstanding
Is this, a moment, Edgar Whispered, "nothing more."
Many nights, I dream of demonic demons, demanding answers for
A sad --sadder voice, sits and whines, with the wind
"Only this, and nothing more!"
A notary, nauseate moment, sea sick, shipwrecked floor
Secular suicide spreading like gossip, sailing through my veins
Evilly and twisted, "This it is, and nothing more" - that remains

Tweaking, and repeating, the speeding, of needing
My drugs, of pain and passion, to end the illusion
Of the self inflicted - bruising, from the voices of my choices
I hear the whisper, a selfish whisper, asking for Lenore
How many nights, he comes into my room, dress like A Raven
Painted, and tainted, like the midnight dreary
Reciting, and exciting, like The Bells, of Annabel Lee, in fury
Never, never, nameless here forevermore, in my dreams
Under my evil doing skin, like the sum of sin, is how it seems

On the nights my soul mate does not appear, 
The anchor drowns and torments me with tears
I ravel up in fear, of the fear, when my ghost is not near
Rattling and trembling, by the bedside, 
On the dark side of the mental moon, when in gloom
I scratch my room, screaming to the bleeding, 
From my heart, who needs a killing, 
From a feeding and the feeling of letting Poe, go!

By:PD
Inspired by The Raven


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Three Hundred

Three Hundred

The wraiths were ringing dead wrought bells
while closely passed the shady shapes
of woods in dusk, where red indwells
communion made from ghostly grapes.

He ran amidst the winds and passed
across the side where grapevines grew,
it was her presence that amassed
small leaves and droplets of fog's dew.

Inside the winds' lone strings accord,
his Bell full-face, was dropped along
the streamlets and horizon's board,
untamed his scopes, they don't belong.

The Astral Chords! He knew this debt;
the skies demand and kill and draw,
the darkened paths his thought beget,
rose thorny droplets on his brow.

Persephone shall be his wed,
subsiding dew the mist regales,
the stringing roar that reaches red,
his greatest bride resigns his trails.

Shall be the threading of winds' howls,
her plea arises from the shades,
homecoming queen from astral halls,
he harks the northern swashing blades.

Ablution's her enjoining black
"Enfold me in the rising dawn
enfold your sadness in the dark
with magistral the curtains drawn".

Acute of wounds she heals and mends
the asphalt of the mists awaits
pristine her bridal thorns amends
while passing through the Hades gates.

Three hundred reasons drew the drapes,
three hundred strings of diligence;
The winds regaled the bride's agape,
his celebration to commence.

© 10-14-2013, George Venetopoulos
(Iambic Tetrameter - Epic)

Three Hundred = 300 Kilometers per hour. The final speed a super-bike of 1,000cc engine is able to outreach.


Details | Verse | |

The mist around the boulder

The mist around the boulder

She kept her staring eyes beyond the ridge and orange skylines,
where sun descended crowning bells, and dithering mauve thistles;
it was the time the shadows fell upon the fragrant grapevines,
while blue was spreading from the east and winds in branches whistled.

The dark of night embrace'd her form, espouse'd her thought and breathing,
how lonesome was the specter of this shortened time and order
when bold the blades of memories return'd and beam'd unsheathing,
granite became his thought, and hers, the mist around the boulder.

The dark of night embrace'd him, then, and wraiths, above, surpass'd him
across the Acheronian stills where shadowed lifted billows,
bestowed on him armorial vows and her betrothal bracing
of orchard blooms and stalwart deeds among the astral meadows.

© 2015-02-19, Georgios Venetopoulos, All rights reserved
(Iambic decapentasyllabic verse)

Sponsor: gautami phookan
Contest Name: I THINK OF YOU
Deadline: 3/13/2015


Details | Free verse | |

AWAKE

AWAKE  ~ IN and OUT ~

Spring arising, before morning light,
I walk under the new epic sun
The aroma of yesterday, gone
Today's the day that will follow tomorrow
I quickly walk a certain walk
Unique is all I can display
Watery eyes staying in the past
While vehicles pass this new generation
Crosses lacking new faith
I stay awake and mend with my fate
Foggy toys, I want to play
I can't keep up with all your kicks
I look, I stare, at the walls
Bright and early, I step on my own dolls
I stay and feel, the way you taught me
Lifeless, and still so full of energy
Mad words, unconscious forces
My sweet needs, now reside inside of you
Mad, sad, and outside the box
You close every door, and keep me away from the root

You only allow me to feel your morning light
Why can't you let me see what's behind the shadows?
Why do you turn on all the lights? 

I'm here the way you want me to be
Happy, and merry, for the world to see
This blindness will continue to spot
Unless you wake up first and remove the dot
You gave me the thirst, you once knew
So filthy, so full of ****,
Under these closed freaking door
I'm exposed like the midday sun
You bang my head on the wall,
You killed me in a way that made me feel!
I only answer to your call
In and out a hoop~ like a ball
In me you can not find any real dreams!
Inside me you filled me with a raging scream

Sssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! 
I'm in wonder around your air castle
Strange and hung on your mantle
Stepping on a one footed slave

Alert, alert are we!!!
I shake, we kiss, I wake,
You sleep...........................
I zip, all things into one zipper.
Pounding my hands up against my ears
Crazy, taking a jab upon all jabs
Crazy, you say~ that's me everyday
I'm up and I caress the photo we once had
I lay only staring at you once more
I awake before I sleep
Your promises I keep
In me~ you are also in the deep
My stars change everyday
Waiting for you, to pull the trigger
Still wishing me to be a sun digger

You can't touch or loosen the knots
Together we will day dream our way to the top
I make your nerve system come alive, wide awake
We run into the wind and listen
Quietly in our chamber of thoughts
Near and far, we both nod off
In this daily race, with no face
No space, 
I caught myself awake, 
The day I fell asleep for you.

by;PD


Details | Epic | |

Omens Outlived

With a voice ornamented in ogled tension
you ask me,
like vulnerable flesh queries warm obsession,
Do you mean to love me this way...
on your mouth, a hold of hope I see
to you I say...
Does the sun choose to flare into sapphire atmosphere,
Does the moon decide who's eyes to enchant,
Does a rose ponder its tempt,
Does a man dare his heart relent,
Does a woman wonder whence came her allure and dare,

A heatwave of heartache's swelter swells over your soul
as the outcry of orgulous omens try to defy our survival,
blood drops fall lonesomely from the old body of a lark
a steeple bell broken by the thunder of sorrow in the dark,
gold found burning into rivulets reaching into graveyard rock,
you begin to weep 
because the weight of worry waylays your wishes for our eternity,
I surround you with a love shield that shames the arrows of agony
kissing you softly deep,
then I tell you that fate is not our enemy,
don't you understand my Lady...
Sultans cannot buy or sell the feelings we share,
Emperors unable to enforce the silence of our hearts,
rivals are but ridiculous in attempt to dowse our flame,
Time be trite in march against the magic in our care,
the poetry of our purpose will not be censored by cynical marks,
emotions erratic in wrath will not wrest the roots from which our passion came -

J.A.B.


Details | Epic | |

Make Love To Me In That Ancient Place

The Bedouins, bequeathed with the sacred beauty of paradise harsh,
trusted guardians of jealous gorges and gifted groves
lead me from the Wadi Musa to the humble ingress of Petra,
saying with thrill, the Jin of your Jihad awaits you White Lion,
we embrace as Brothers of Light and ancient dust,
their camels wise in soft steps
impart wide eyed, gentle blessing to me,
a shrill whisper of teasing wonderment 
whisks the sand of centuries strewn small
with a cobra's awakening whisp and hungry hiss,
evening enters the terrible terrain
glowing a cool blue dark and daring
along with it a blowing a zephyr unzips the zodiac of my ancestors,
stars of a billion years sympathize with this soul sojourn, 
alone I journey inward like a brave wish wafting
into a heart wanting to disgorge a secret need,
the smell of salt, sandstone and myrrh infiltrate
my mind with a mineral magic animating millenia of sovereign economics,
lamp light revealing the blush and rue of the the Siq's colossal rock hue,
shadows of caravan traffic bespeak exotic trade from distant industry,
narcotics from Kush, Persian rugs, spices and incense of Arabia, 
jewels and hides from India, the medicine and silk of China,
beasts and papyrus of Africa, wine, weapons and art of Rome,
slaves beautiful and strong carried from every known ethnic throng,
a river of precious merchandise replacing the might of carving waters,
at the egress of this artery's eternal enterprise
I behold with burgeoning awe the Nabataean Treasury, 
it's gladsome geometry a harmony of will, wealth and worship,
warm red cream stone become bone of a peoples' politic,
architecture for their angels and sanctuary for culture,
depository for dreams indebted to desert Deities,
I blow a kiss to the niche of Tyche, Goddess of fantastic fortune,
as I tighten my checkered turbin I hear a soft song
of Hellenic, Semitic and Arabic recipe, stringed hums with chime
and it moves me into the open, bleak basin towards the Monastary facade, 
in the black of it's errie entrance a spirit of evanescent education
escalates my enchantment as corners wake to pathways,
murals like waving reflections stream across the walls
I see Moses crack the water stone for salvation
as the Holy Arch spirals an avalanche of absolution from Earth to Heaven,
Solomon and Sheba secure a trade treaty with royal love,
I witness Jesus in the Jordan with John the Baptist
kindly laying him in the steady float of faith,
then the tragedy of John's demise
by the sour ambition of Herodias, the whore of defacto power,
I observe the affection of Joshua Ben Joseph 
with his woman of street sense as they endure trial after trial,
scenes of the Pax Romana and Judaen revolts parade 
by my eyes as terror, torture and triumph
wear masks of glory and glee,
the Essenes embarking for the Dead Sea defense,
Muslims and Crusaders found not the bounty of this land,
here remains the treasure of Pharaonic voyage,
exiting with renewed moral for love
I look to the top of Zibb Atuf
where I see the thunderbolt of Zeus Hadad and cornucopia of Atargatis
burn sweetly in the night, periwinkle smolder signals righteous passion,
I feel you, my Love, paramount in the depth of every sense I have,
turning entranced to the Roman Theater I proceed to the north east rendezvou,
you are lovely and glamorous on the stage of amplified ardor,
starbeams spotlight your coordinated curves and fertile instinct,
you begin to seduce with a dance, breathtaking, impulsive balance,
moving with the smooth heat and poise of a breath blown candle flame,
a crescent of torches beautifies your frame, crimson silk wings from you,
I stand for a moment on the outer upper rim
gazing, with great heat upsurging through every muscle,
knowing you are jubilant for me by the way you move
I descend the stairs undistracted from the language of your invitation,
your cinnamon skin skims my own as you go round and round
and the crave for your ravishing rub forces my pursuit,
I catch your tender waist as you spin into my hunting arms,
your fingertips feel so right in my hands,
we sway like romance on fire in the storm of desire,
your restive back nestled inbetween my shoulders
my obsessed lips move up your neck in search for innocent sensitivity
overtaking your naked earlobe with a hot mouth and firm pull,
your body, begging to be breeched brutely calms slowly
as I release spontaneous poetry into your ear saying...

When the moon was young
unbattered by stone and age
glowing bold upon Earth newly spun
the first man and sacred Woman
made love of flesh warmly woven
from they're erupting hearts came wild knowledge...

J.A.B.


Details | Epic | |

Zodiac Zombie

She cries comets of burning ice
rocketing through a wilderness of bleeding rubies
her constellation, Anaconda, the 13th Sign, drinker of soul wine,

Her cheeks permafrosted with white agony
the accumulation of eons without the lips of her Man's love mercy,

When the word WHY becomes an acronym
for What Have You,
When knowledge of loss is your only gain,
When questions and answers no longer serve a frantic heart
rebellion is the necessary blessing of love becoming beast,
When everything sacred seems destin to be violated
and reborn as a beautiful monster
she became, the Zodiac Zombie,
her heart a super nova explosion,
a demoness on the breath of Death's delay
hunting hearts born through her Star House,
asphyxiating the affection of all who incarnate through her system,
feeding on the veins of fresh obsession, of virgin devotion,

Legend has it that she births the great Poets and Rebels
for their passion is unparalleled in pride and sweet sacrafice,
she is the Zodiac Zombie, Queen of the Black Sea, Goddess of love bleeding -

J.A.B.


Details | Epic | |

the worm poem

A Certain Kind Of Death 

She was in love 
Their expression of it 
Was the perfection of it 
The way they shared  
Was beyond compare
Today is the culmination 
Of their dedication 
Today she is pregnant 
Overwhelmed overjoyed
Her heart sings 
Then the phone rings 

At the hospital 
Next to her dead husband 
How is the possible 
Why did this happen 
Grief stricken
But not heartbroken 
She still had a piece of him 
She had to be strong 
For their child
Even though he was gone 
She had to march on 

Pain and spot bleeding
Getting ready for birthing 
No rhyme or reason 
For complication 
She took care of her body
Took care of her baby 
Its two months too soon
For the child to leave the womb 
Lacking strength and power 
It only lived an hour 
She could only scream  

No strength to go through the motions
She hasn’t seen family or friends
Trying to find something within
nothing left to give 
No reason to live 
she is dead inside
Her memories fading away
She’s doesn’t want to lose them
Tries to hold on to them 
She racks her brain all day 
Trying to find a way 
To keep them fresh and vibrant 

It came to her at a convenience store
A fisherman was buying some worms
She saw them wiggling 
Saw them moving 
So she bought all they had  
She knew she had gone mad
But she didn’t want to be alone
Lying in her bed 
Longing for the dead 
She put the worms in her womb 
And pretended her baby was alive

Her days where filled with joy 
They where going to have a boy
Her husband would stay home
He could finally feel it kick and move 
His happiness was there only wish
They would love and cherish 
Every moment of everyday 
A happy family 
For everyone to envy 
She wasn’t alone anymore  
She was no longer ripped and torn 

Her evenings were horrifying 
She wasn’t just taking worms out
She was reliving her baby dying 
She never once heard it crying 
Never got to hold it in her arms 
Failed to keep it from harm 
She was useless 
She was helpless
She should have died too 
She should have kept inside her
Even if it had killed her 

She decided one day 
To keep her baby 
Decided not let the doctors take it away
She started to feel some pain 
She decided on a name 
She can barely move now 
She would keep David safe somehow
She’s constantly bleeding and convulsing 
She can feel his life pulsating 
She gave birth before she died 
And David was the only one that cried


Details | Quintain (English) | |

"In the heat of Pasion" (to Angela wih love)

     The first time I saw you, there was a glow about you
      that baffle me.  I-I just could not find the right word,
     "you had that certain glow about you".  Not the way you walk
       nor the way you move, "but I believe in miracle's", yes
      I do - yes I do.  So finally I step to you and ask, would you,
       could you smile ? just for the camara in my mind so that the
      image of an Angel would be on my mind just in case the world
      ended (today) much to soon, much before time.  The first time
     I saw you naked Angela, my mouth got lost for words-but the one
      that slip through my lip's were (mmmunn) "what a gorcious women,
      breast like lucious melons", and a voice (sweet) like that of the ocean
     and wave's of heat and my idea of nerviousness brings trembeling to
     my feet's.
    "I do believe in miracle's", "I do not believe in love".  Miracle's that it
       take to sustain a relationship that the odd's of longivity are against us.
      And we do become desponded, most of our day is spent fussing and cussing.
     Never to see true love at its best.  The first time our lip's did touch, I remem-
     ber this Angel who I call Angela, she had my name tattoe across her chest.
      Love, became the missing attraction, and you comfort me in my desire to ex
    press myself, for I thought I was so macho, never in a thousand years, "will I
      meet such a someone (?) that's such a women".  A women (aaaah) such a
    women, "from her head to her shoe".  
       Now Angela just in case the world ends tomorrow.  Don't denie that there's an
       "attraction".  O'Angela.....kiss me quickly, "In the heat of Passion".


Details | Epic | |

A Dowry Of Dreams

Dreams are approaching my Love
following the stars to your heart,
beside your body I breathe and gaurd your lips 
the sentinel of your stellar song, the heat along your lyrics
listening to your language of smooth beauty unfurling lunar fabrics
wasting all the wrong that reaches for your innocence,
demons dare not the sharp sheen of my devoted dagger,
death will not tresspass within the life of your love,

There is a sweet ancient spirit in you
born from the sun and salt of sorrow and seduction
a sad nobility that fights for fragile kisses, to uplift the underworld,
bring the drum beats of savage, hot lights into focus on the firmament
hush the stars that wait softly for sweating bodies of fire  -

J.A.B.


Details | Free verse | |

SLY FOX

~SLY FOX~

There you go again little Sly fox P.D.
Another game of tag and jeopardy.
Clever, clever, little fox so bloodthirsty.
Chaos roams through your veins of liberty.
You walk the ground, prancing around your hostility.
Marching down with the dignity of mis-guided anarchy.

I'm gonna hunt you smell end it well.
Hang you up from your trophy tail. 
Kiss your night one last farewell.
By morning dawn your foxy tail,
Won't live another tale to tell.

I'm gonna find ya' ~ pull your hideout from where you hide.
Smack you around in your everyday rebellious ways.
Thinking you can defeat my crowd with your lawlessness..
I don't need no hounds to track your unlivable Holy-mess.
You created a selfish character of kindness for the blindness.
You prey on the sheep's and linger on their wall of hopelessness. 
Your sinfulness grew from the boldness, and bitterness, 
Of growing up parent-less.
My dear Sly Fox are you on alert with your ears of nobleness.
Did you not hear me creeping while you were sleeping.

Sly fox the destroyer!

You are right, you are a mischievous game of hunt!
My trap is set and waiting for you by the river front.
Go ahead, take a drink, pull one last obnoxious stunt.
Run and run, as fast as you can!
You can't out run this one game of Skitty Skat fox hunt.....


~SKAT~
 
 


Details | Narrative | |

How a Blue Rose Came to be

Once upon a time, many years ago,
There was a sweet and lovely -  red, red Irish rose,
That was plucked prematurely, from the garden vine;
A budding beauty, taken in her prime.

She was laid to rest, upon the death, of a lovers dream;
Upon a chest of ebony, where lie, his would-be  Queen; 
Lowered deep into the depths, of the church yard cemetery;
Her scarlet petals, wilting in the summer breeze.

Then the earth begin to fall, like autumn leaves;
Upon  her petals, and the chest of ebony,
From above her tomb, where stood the grieving groom
Weeping , weeping,  like a willow tree.


Then the sky begin  to disappear, amid that mournful cry,
As  tears - from above, fell from that lovers eyes,
And came to rest, like dew drops on that  Irish rose, 
As she disappeared beneath the earth, there in his grief below 
                                          
                            	 ~~~~~
		
In time, he laid a stone of ivory - upon her grave;
Etched deeply  - with the promise he had made:
To love his Irish Rose - forever and a day.

                                  ~~~~~

The years and all their seasons came and went
And a million lonely tears were cried and spent
Upon her grave where everyday he kneeled and prayed
And dreamed of her until his dying day.  


		~~~~

The epigram has long since faded on the ivory stone   
That still stands alone   upon her grave
Where from the million tears of love he gave
A seemingly impossible - blue, blue rose has grown.

 
 Written:  June 18, 2010

Note:  To late for the contest,
but I thought I would post it anyway. 










Details | Epic | |

Serendipity Of Souls

Revealed in that ancient place
where roses become stone and lips dry as dead bone,
the ruins of love my home, hopeless heart shown damp as sorrow known,
rubble etched with tears of deceased romance, a barren face,
my hourglass of power tilted by a hand rough as sand,
body aching for velvet confection, soul suplicant for a loving land,
age dulling the dream for a companion champion, stifling the search,
venturing daily into the world of common hazard and animal angst
standing, fighting, surviving and creating alone, an eagle with no nest,
the sky infinite in distance, sea always pushing my vessel back to fortified beach,

Unexpected like beauty in hunting eyes
you arrived in my life's arena like a veteran of volatile virtue,
speaking as if prepared to die for desire, moving with mischevious fire,
you were my vulnerable Angel, most passionate pulse with carnivorous cries,
we consoled one another when truth seemed cold and trust had narrow view,
offering me the pinnacle pleasure of a Lady's plush rush, I became the love rider,
your flesh, a sanctuary of sexual salvation, your blood, the spirit of immortal rose
Divine Intervention guided you to me, and I to you, together the meaning of love grows

J.A.B.


Details | Epic | |

Destiny's Clutch

The dawn spoke her name like a silken secret
carried carefree by the tradewinds of lust and larceny
imported from the traderoutes of paradise and pandemonium, 
sequined with violet venom she venerates the virtue of volition
her love is unlawful, unequalled in unrest, righteous in conquest,
tender in temptation, torrid your surrender, her beauty a will bender,

Queen of Empire Passion, warrior unknown to submission
her kingdom was not inherited, glory and throne ungifted,
the treasures, stables and territories, battles and crown all won,
rich in intellect, endowed with rare resources, affluent in original passion
bejeweled in natural beauty, she bewitches beasts and men alike,
Poets pen her preciously as Woman Total, Priests implore her pardon,
male servants pander to her anger and ardor, satisfaction she commands,
Sisterhood the symbol and soul of her mission,

I was just a man, a wanderer wading through her reign,
from the unsubdued North I came, a curious traveler with ancient name,
my tribe unfamiliar, underestimated, a Chieftain of steady pulse,
tresspassing towards her roots my aim was direct knowledge of her
woman of renown cunning and learning, woman of exotic ability,
seeking teaching and romance, though I would not be her Subject or victim,
this she knew, this she abhorred, a challenge to her dominance,

I agreed to meet her alone in the open morning of war,
in an abeyounce of gliding fire she comes riding out of the sun
regalia of black roses against red tears flying above her shoulder,
our horses begin a battle tromp, breaths heavy with moist mania
she has leopards in her eyes
poinsettias and death's palms painted on thighs,
scalps of exlovers and enemies slung on sadle
we acknowledge one another with ritual yell
I exclaim, Warrior Poetess, she screams Poet Warrior!
dismounting with mutual vigor our combat erupts
cutting my cheek with her blade's lip
kicking me in the ribs
I clinch her collared throat
and heel trip us to the ground
she snarls, I growl,
a glimpse of rescue in eachother's eyes -

J.A.B.


Details | Epic | |

My father is a Soldier

My father is a hero.
He stands so tall and proud.
His hands are firm, But gentle.
He stands out in a crowd.
People stop to Thank him.
For Freedom he does fight.
My father is a Soldier.
But he's my Dad at night!


Details | Ballad | |

Once Willows Wept Not

'Tis now known why the Willow weeps, 
a tragedy of love, its memory keeps.
For once a young man and young maid, 
on tender grass, beneath branches lay.
Though pledged by birth to another, 
from clans they hid, to be together.
Thus, the gentle Willow was their choice, 
meeting beneath, till love they could voice.
The Willow held these secret lovers dear, 
so would lower its boughs, when they drew near.
Thus tucked away in the Willow's womb, 
could lay as one, yet this love was doomed.
For jealousy lurked within the pines, 
spying young lovers thus entwined,
behind Willow's curtain of slender limbs, 
He swore the maiden, would yet be his.
Thus, it came to pass one day, 
as young maid softly made her way,
to their Willow, deep within the glen, 
espied the branches did already bend.
Timidly, as she did draw near, 
soft sound of sorrow fell upon her ears.
Parting Willow's branches to look within, 
a dampness did touch upon her skin.
The Willow was shedding sap laden tears, 
for the young man, in death, was near.
'Twas an arrow that had been used, 
a potent poison, the tip infused.
The maiden, now blind with grieving mist, 
pulled out the arrow, held it, in clenched fist.
Whilst cradled in love's arms, did he draw last breath. 
Then, young maid, plunged the arrow, into her breast.
And so it is, that this story is told,
as the Willow's grief would not be consoled.
For unable to stop what had befell,
the young lovers, it had hid so well.
With will broken, as lovers lay dead,
the Willow, its branches, never again spread.
And because it is the memory it keeps,
it is to this day, that the Willow weeps.




Details | Epic | |

WINTERS END

Decade
         solid 
                solitary 
                          years

Finally, 
         the 
              season
                       winter
                                ends . . .

With only sunsets beside my bed, 
I sleep and wake up alone.
More than dozens,
I cried a river to scream my fret
for long long years, 
I am committed, yet I walked alone.

Ice drizzled during the days 
then it turned to  hails 
to cubes 
and  to iceberg..

U.N.B.R.E.A.K.A.B.L.E.

Days   are   boiling--
It   welcomes summer for partnered swims.
I invited you but so sad you said a straight: "NO."
Hence by myself, I went to dive on ocean blue.
Years later, we both smell a baby's breath, one then two.
but still, it did nothing to resuscitate a love to bloom, true...

I shiver with the coldness mirrored on your stares,
my joints and muscles quiver 
as I reach a state of hypothermia.

      Yearning    and       wanting...

                   I
                dare 
            to embrace  
    you    a      little     while
like the snow melting under sun's glare, 
oh! so slowly, you thaw my longing.

We are just a room apart 
     yet our feet seems frozen to start...
Not even once, we came to meet. 
No talks. No grins. No hugs. No kiss.
Have our marriage years gone tarry
for just long ago, I agree to tie an endless love with you...?
What had happened, 
Tearless now, but let me know!!!
Did Frosty the Snowman steal you from me?!

I followed Santa Claus advice 
to be nice and never naughty.
I tried to be an angel--
with a halo never with a horn or tail.

Yet, I view the rolling years of us being together
all I can see is a steadfast rainfall of snowflakes...
Penetrating in between skinfolds 
Containing me in a cold volcanic tremors.

Until one day, God must have heard me: 
He answered my prayer allowing me to see
a lady candle's light: a window of hope.

Then lately, my frost clad self defrosts as she touched me.
She, surging strips of shine, her aura a blanket of warmth.
Pliant, she painted a portrait of sunshine into my daily life.
When I lay my head on bed sharp ten o'clock at night,
I see outside the blinking stars and the crescent moon.

Has blossoms of spring started to sprout within my days?
For no longer I shiver with absolute zero coldness rather
I triple tremble in tempo to meet my hearts hot demand
a final adieu to winters icy loveless land.
as lately somebody has taken hold of my hand..

I bask with the squeeze I received
for I found out, our hands, fit in one weave...

___________________________________
©O. E. Guillermo
10:31 pm, January 14, 2015


Details | Epic | |

Absolute Attraction

When did you first fall in love with me...
anticipation of miracle and wet wonder in her immaculate smile,

A blizzard of rose petals and blood riddles swirl within my heart
it seemed like an impossible question to answer,
it was so long ago, yet it feels like it was just a moment ago,
when did beauty become a purpose...
when did passion first pulse on virgin lips...

When I first felt...
the impassioned poetry of your womanhood,
the strike of your passion wrath upon my manhood,
when I first saw...
how your eyes of lioness scorch blazed a grin of gusto on my face,
how you crowned me King of Virility with your ultra sweet gasps,
when I realized...
that my mouth of nocturnal nurture could be your medicine,
that the landscape of my love would be the sanctuary of your dreamscape,

I asked her with a happy urge,
When did you first fall in love with me...
with a dance of wilderness on her voice she answered,
When your poetry gave me faith in my heart...

J.A.B.


Details | Epic | |

Locked in a Smile

locked in a smile
are secrets untold
reality waiting for love 
to unfold
anxiously waiting are words 
that are kept
inside my heart
to an unknown depth
for unto you i give my eyes
for my eyes there is 
no greater prize
for unto you i give my ears
for each utterance and 
every syllable it hears 

locked in a smile
are secrets untold
of lips that would kiss you
and hands that would hold
arms that would embrace
if you grew cold
to give you my heart
is my highest goal
a love everlasting
as we both grow old 

locked in a smile
are secrets untold
of love that reached
all the way to the soul
in you i'd place my loyalty
in you i'd place my fate
in you i'd place my honor
in promises and vows of faith
you are a restless spirit
a plague inside my mind
invading every inch
and every minute of time 

locked in a smile 
are secrets untold
of how you are my heaven
and how you are my hell
my mind paints pictures
of me loving you so well
yet i wait for the day 
when i'm brave enough to tell
wishing you felt the same
that would be so swell 


Details | Rhyme | |

Remnants

Sad Heart, now thou art wither’d from the Sun,
What man, or god, will near thee run?
Wrought in twist like branches in Tempests' gasp,
What Comfort, or Gauze, shall be near to grasp?
True ones begotten are the ones now Rotten
And the ones now Rotten will never be forgotten
They are merely sad remains of assiduous Tears
That have been meddl’d with and tatter’d Raw throughout the years

And thou, cruel Mind, that sat’st still thru toiling trail of Night;
Must dream your broken Dreams; thou’rt a sanely flight!
Can thou extinguish passions of Fire, Disease, or Rain?
—tho thy distinguish’d influence trains to abstain
Thy Remnants brought to debris in thy Empty street,
Devour’d by Vultures, their bestow’d beaks entreat
Merely are they cleaning an inexhaustible Mess
Alas! Leaving thy rudiments of Identity to redress....



Details | Epic | |

Song in the Dark

~
There are legends I've heard, old songs in the dark
of the old folklore tales, and the old gypsy trails,
where traveling caravans of rugged old wagons
still echo, with longing, in valleys below...

Where each treasured belonging,
was packed in a hurry 
all the stories, all the worry, all the heartache would travel
all the sunshine, and the sorrow, celebrations to marvel
and  dreams of tomorrow, were kept on the road....

The trail was a friend, and the loam was their home
Their needs were quite small,
For,  they didn't expect, to be wealthy or rich.
All the riches they had, were scarce and so few...but they knew
that happiness could be the sun on your back, or a sky, wide and blue...
Not much to expect,  and not even respect...
would be theirs to be owned.

As the twilight would come, under a red setting sun,
with the fragrance of loam, and the tired walk done... 
they would bed under trees where the heather was strewn
they would burn a small fire, and prepare a warm meal,
with smoke in the breeze, while the whippoorwill's song 
and accordion tunes, would drift by the face of the moon

On their heels was the dust, in the noontime sun
They rose with the dawn, and the gold of the past, 
wearing the colorful hope of tomorrow's new task 
Working wherever a meal, and dollar would come
Then moving again with their band until dusk
over, and over and over again...

Some called them tramps, and some called them small thieves
But the heart of the matter, was the love of the sun,
the love of the life that came from the moon,
from the stars, and the grass, and the rust of the leaves

For those who encountered, and who gave them a chance
could learn many things by watching them dance,
and learn many things by hearing them sing,
and pay close attention to how much they knew
that fortune is something that comes from inside
It comes with the pride, of knowing what matters
The tattered, lost life of the old gypsy tribes  ....
      might be the saddest of stories, or loneliest song... 
                    a song that has faded,
                                that has dwindled and died....






_______________________________________
5/18/12   2nd place in PD's "Epic" contest


Details | I do not know? | |

* Imagine.... ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reformations amities amid poetics tour de force overture within, virtuoso's....

Fatalisms exuberant pas de deux; foreordained this ballet in exquisites verse

To cross dimensions of spatial extent; the new promised frontier?!

Paragons quintessential interludes gracing the paramouric stages

Amid divinities design a birth, borne upon the canvas of touchstone time....

Fantastic phenomena; parting these cosmic curtains in yesteryears ambivalence

Watersheds cardinal red moment in predestined manifestations crossing thresholds

Parallel spheres once bound by catharsises hand crafted crucibles reasons!?

Eclipsed, from limbo to be carried unto Eden; loves, eternal cats cradle palms....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

.... * “Imagine” ~


Details | Free verse | |

COOKIES

Now they say that girls are made of sugar
And spice, but good girls finish last my friend.
For there is one truth for all women kind,
Come hell or high water we will fight
For our right to indulge ourselves in 
The need for perfections greatest
Confections, COOKIES!!!
Yes we will take don’t that cookie
Puppet clown, dressed in blue,
For there is no fiercer monster known
To man, then a women who’s cookie
Faddish is left unsatisfied.
Peanut butter to chocolate chip,
Just pass the milk and watch out dude,
For women shall be the first to dip.
Call us the two fisted women of the 
Raw dough generation, we don’t 
Real care, just pass grandma’s old 
Cookie jar.
Roll me down the bakery sweet, 
No fragrance smells finer then freshly
Baked what ladies, COOKIES.
Sugar me sweet it’s the ladies favorite
Treat, by the bucket or truck load it can’t
Be beat, frosted or plain, it matters not,
But without Milk its sacrilege that is
No doubt!!
Now chocolate maybe the vise five to
Seven days a month, but cookies rule
As the male race drools, because honey
There is no doubt women will take you
Don’t for what, lets all say it ladies around
The world, all together now, SAY WHAT
COOKIES!!!!!!
By the way did I tell you my favorite
Food in the world, of course it’s very
Obvious, COOKIES!!

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
DEDICATED TO POET DESTROYER
And to all women


Details | Free verse | |

Majestic Mandamus

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Analyzing satires celeste images defined?!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Archetypes born side by side; carmine halos...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Transcending tangibles collective bell jar host

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Internal objectives journey through the superlatives

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Austere tides; juxtapositions museful nirvana eyes!?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Gazing upon celebral traces marking barefoot sands...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Latitudes showers from variables littoral clouds anew

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Raining verticals truths aligned beyond, imaginations shores

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Lissome dynamics peering into the nows mirrored mind?!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Monolithic hues; retracing tangibles celeste analyzed...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

..."Majestic Mandamus" ~  



Details | Epic | |

The Fallen Prince

I saw a fair young maiden, abandoned in her bed,
Tearful for the one she loved ,the one she chose to wed.

Who in a weakened moment tread, out to the mountain ledge,
Enticed by the knight in black, who brought him to the edge.

Come fly with me, the black knight said, " to a land of pure euphoria,
And let me show you wondrous things, that I can lay before you.

No more pain and no more strife, just endless days and endless nights
of wine and song and dance.

Come my prince ,come  fly with me ,why not take a chance,
Forget your wife, come live your life ,it's time for new romance.

A tiny pill, is all it takes, a sniff of fine white powder,
Will keep you high, so you can fly up to the magic tower".

So ,the prince he ate the tiny pills and sniffed the fine white powder,
And soon he was addicted, to the magic of their powers.

Away he flew ,up to the moon, beyond the Milky Way,
Where stars came out and winked at him and beckoned him to play.

Everyday he ate the pills and sniffed the fine white powder,
But everyday...he needed more as they slowly lost their power,

And now he couldn't fly as high and that was terrible thing,
for there were more a more feathers missing from his wings.

Then one day ,while he flying, reaching for his dreams,
He felt the power leaving him ,and he began to scream.

Down and down and down he fell, crashing to the ground;;
Lost dreams and broken promises, lying all around.

And like a wounded bird with broken wings, that cease to flutter,
The truth rained down upon his head ,as he floundered in the gutter

Oh what a crazy fool he'd been, blinded by the knight,
Could he ever win her back ,and make the wrongs all right?

He cried and cried, into the night, regrets were his companions,
Until he heard the sound of hooves ,rumbling through the canyon.

Through tear-filled eyes, he saw a herd, of royal beauty stallions,
And perched upon ,their royal backs ,were knights in white so gallant.

Carefully ,they scooped him up ,and carried him away,
Into the East ,they rode from hell, for three long nights and days.

When long at last, with horses spent ,they reached their destination,
They placed him in the hands of God ,for this was His creation.

Great warmth began to fill his heart ,and light shone from his eyes,
He felt the gentle hand of God, and he began to cry.

Such happiness. he had never known. it lifted him so high,
He spread his wings, up to the sky ,and he began to fly.

Up to the sky, on mended wings, with angels all around him,
He heard the voice of God ring out, and totally surround him.

"I've done my part ,my fallen prince ,but the rest is up to you,
Fly straight and true, and don't look back ,no matter what you do.

Lead not thee to temptation son .for if you do, you'll die,
Fly straight and true, my fallen prince, or forever, cease to fly".

Will the prince ,journey home again ,to his fair and lovely maiden
Or, will temptation ,lead him back, to the evil Black Knight Satan?


Details | Free verse | |

The Day That Died Forever

When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...

I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky

The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn

I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe

The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul

Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through

Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost

I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art

As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow

Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place

The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost

Day was Life,Night is Death

And the latter has given counsel on my final steps


Details | Free verse | |

Beautiful -- To my Love

I want to drop off the end of the world
You have tied your puppet strings around me
You act as my master and I am...nothing
Do you even love me anymore? 
You lie about me, and to me,
Am I not perfect enough? 
My Paint chipped away.
I give up everything for you,
you want me to give up even this too,
and you give nothing in return,
nothing.

I hate you for that,
for tearing me apart,
I am chunky, 
and plain, 
I cant sing,
and I'm ugly,
I am useless, 
and my drawing sucks,
I shouldn't write because you don't like it,
my hair is thin, my eyes are empty,
I'm crying and you don't give a damn.

You tell me these things and yet you say you love me,
Tell me, How, how is THAT love? 
I'm tired, and I don't feel well,
You make up things and exaggerate,
And secretly I'm psychoanalyzing you. 

So tell me love,
Why are you so insecure,
Why shouldn't I trust you -- Because your mistrust of me,
Is really what that says,
What are you doing wrong? 
What are you waiting for? 
To make me nothing before you leave me for one of those prettier girls?

But I say f*ck you,
I'm tired of these games,
I AM beautiful, and the world knows it. 
and everything you say about me, is wrong.

Ps. Don't believe me, but the truth is, 
I truly, really do love you...


Details | Verse | |

Temujin

Temujin

The purple Royal banners wave above his armor's steel;
the chieftain carries his Mongolian, relentless wit,
young Genghis Khan, the Temujin, applies his sovereign zeal,
to merge the lands beneath his will, the warlords to befit.

Consorted by young Börte of the Onggirat kin tribe,
the martial Temujin receives high honors by the clans;
a skillful warrior invades the lands while his young bride,
awaits; for no one else predestined is to be her man.

The chieftain slaughters hence his passage through the western soils
invincible his tactics are, and triumphs ascertain,
advance his rule, expand his territorial rights and spoils,
while Börte, granting loyalty, in virtue she ordains.

How valued is the flight of eagles that conduct above,
depict trajectories, and soar to vanish where the Gods
embrace the sadness of unanswered prayers and bridal love,
the Royal maid in loneliness, defends against all odds?

So priceless have become their plumes upon the Mongol plains,
where the persistent Northern steppe cold winds enfold the ghosts
and Princess Börte counts her solitude, stands tall and reigns,
believing that her Temujin bestows his kind riposte!

" Support him Goddess of the moon when grooming Charon thuds
and sends the clanging of the steel, commanding thus, the souls,
to travel the descending route of coursing loveless blood,
and through the gusting of the winds, transports their saddened calls. "

© 01-20-2014, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Fourteener, Iambic heptameter)
GV