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Best Poems Written by Frank Kuzel

Below are the all-time best Frank Kuzel poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Frank Kuzel Poem

My Most Secret Dreams

A maiden’s crown of ivy
Entwined within her hair,
A sweet come hither smile
That warms the very air,
Her scent a wild perfume
That drives sense from my head,
Her lips like two rose petals
A kiss to wake the dead,
And each time that I see her
The yearnings once more start,
This pretty little elfin miss is
The thief who stole my heart.

Her laughter so like music
Which sets the soul to dance,
Her eyes so bright and sparkling
Hold the promise of romance.
Should I give my heart over
With no struggle or do I fight?
But how does one fight a spirit
That comes forward bathed in light
That outshines the sun’s own glory
Though ‘tis more like pale moonbeams
That glisten on a lover’s skin
In my most secret dreams

Copyright © Frank Kuzel | Year Posted 2012



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All I'Ll Have Left

Lately I’ve been thinking about our love affair
And I’ve come to the conclusion we’re not getting anywhere
And, Darling, though I love you with all of my heart
I think the end is here and it’s time for us to part

Why is it so hard to say good-bye
Even though I know it has to be
It’s simply because I’m losing everything
And all that I’ll have left is me

When we first got together I was looking for a friend
But it turned into a love that I thought would never end
And now the time has come to go our separate ways
We danced to the piper’s music, but now it’s time to pay

Why is it so hard to say good-bye
Even though I know it has to be
It’s simply because I’ve given up my soul
And all that I’ll have left is me

I guess I always knew that it would have to be this way
But I was never looking forward to this day
Now as you turn to leave tears fall from my eyes
And all I want to do is crawl away and die

Why is it so hard to say good-bye
Even though I know it has to be
It’s simply because you’re taking all I am
And all that I’ll have left is me

Copyright © Frank Kuzel | Year Posted 2012

Details | Frank Kuzel Poem

A God I Can'T Touch Or a Goddess I Can

I close my eyes and night gives way
To variegated shades of gray
And from that void a roiling storm
That gives my nightmares shape and form
Of rending claws and gnashing teeth
To things that crawl out from beneath
The rock and stones within my mind

Then comes a point of purest light
From which doves take wing and angels flight
While, as I sleep, your arms enfold
Me, driving off the dark and cold
And I’m bathed within a light that burns
Into my heart and soul in turn
A love that cannot be defined

My sins, my secrets disappear
As does my every doubt and fear
Turned to fine ash that blows away
Back into that swirling sea of gray
My faith renewed, I find my peace
I pray these feelings never cease
And I can echo this love in kind

Copyright © Frank Kuzel | Year Posted 2012

Details | Frank Kuzel Poem

Full Measure

Eight ounces in a coffee cup
Sixteen ounces in a pound
Both of these are things that you
Can wrap your mind around

Super-tankers plying the seas
Hold millions of gallons of oil
And weeks and years is how we see
Our lives and the time that we toil

Sixty seconds in a minute
Twenty-four hours in a day
Everything we know and have
Is measured in this way

We can quantify everything we know,
But if I might be so bold
Is there anyone that can tell me
How much love a heart can hold?

Copyright © Frank Kuzel | Year Posted 2012

Details | Frank Kuzel Poem

Soul Fire

Limbs entwined as passion wanes 
But does not fade away 
It may reignite at any hour of the night 
Or minute of the day. 

The sun's own heat does not compare 
To the fire of our souls 
Whene’er we hold each other close 
And the two halves make a whole. 

Not caring which is fuel or spark 
In our endless lovers' game, 
When flesh meets flesh the world is lost 
In that all consuming flame 

And our spirits dance through the firestorm 
To the music of our desire, 
Never fearing that we will be burned 
For ‘tis love that feeds the fire.

Copyright © Frank Kuzel | Year Posted 2012



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Eros Unfettered

Soft moonlight streams through the window
and in its pale, golden glow
faint sweat sheen glistens on pink, flushed skin
speaking of love’s pleasurable exertions recently ended.
Fingertips trace the contours of legs, hips and breasts
feeling the slight twitches of small muscles
still  not settled from over-stimulation.
Each breath drawn is like inhaling fire
but its warmth feels cool on heated flesh
as two bodies snuggle close, 
hearts beating a sensual counterpoint,
afraid of breaking the connection 
holding two spirits so closely together.
Then lips meet lips in a tender kiss
and two meld into one once more to greet the sunrise
in the most primitive and intense
celebration of life.

Copyright © Frank Kuzel | Year Posted 2012

Details | Frank Kuzel Poem

The Summer In Your Smile

The leaves had changed to rainbow hues and soon the trees were bare
And though you’re gone, I know, deep down, that you are always there
And while my heart is broken and my life’s become a trial
I’ll never lose the memory of the summer in your smile.

Snowflakes ride across the sky on keen edged winter winds.
The sun and moon light day and night, two dimly glowing twins
And ice-cased wires adorn the roads for mile on frozen mile
While I stay warm relaxing in the summer in your smile.

The world lies buried ‘neath a shroud of newly fallen snow
That rolls around and piles in drifts when frigid breezes blow,
But I know the chill can’t touch me with its icy fingers while
I spend my days basking in the summer in your smile.

Soon spring will be upon us, then summer’s hot and humid days
And the sunny days will all be blurred behind a teary haze,
But I’ll go on and do my best to make my life worthwhile
And live within the golden light from the summer in your smile.

Copyright © Frank Kuzel | Year Posted 2012

Details | Frank Kuzel Poem

King of Dreams Subtitle Different War, Same Feelings

Upon a winged horse he flies
To spired castles in the skies
And there through star-lined halls he strides,
A fiery sword slung at his side.

The scabbard for this burning blade
From fragile dreams of love is made.
On his brow a golden circlet rests
Of high position to attest.

As misty floors pass ‘neath his feet
And he breathes the air so warm and sweet, 
He looks down on a war-torn earth
And his mind goes back to his kingdom’s birth.

A young man trapped inside a war
He could not find a reason for;
So confused by doubt he started to run
And found that his battle had only begun.

He ran so fast and he ran so far
Until at last he could run no more
And there in a meadow ‘neath pale moonbeams
He collapsed, exhausted, and started to dream.

Within an empty hall he stood,
The walls of clouds and not of wood.
The floors were all with stardust strewn. 
The beams were all of sunlight hewn.

Instead of a soldier’s olive drab
In silks and satins he now was clad.
Before him two golden doors swung wide, 
So gathering his courage, he strode inside.

Then morning came,
With the sun he awoke.
“I’ve got to go back.”
Were the first words he spoke, 
But sleep wouldn’t return
No matter how hard he tried, 
So lifting his sidearm
He fired…

Now when you look up to the clouds 
And they seem like a palace
Remember that king 
In the land of his dreams.

Copyright © Frank Kuzel | Year Posted 2012

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Memory

Blood-warm rain drips from the peculiarly thick and vile cloud that follows me as I traipse around the twisting and topsy-turvy morass that fashions the hallways of my memory.

Is love just another word for lost?

The music that emanates from the walls to assail my ears is sobering and joyless, the beat is all wrong; much too bright and airy while, simultaneously, seeming ponderous and dirge-like.

Metal at its worst.

As I brush away the obscuring detritus from around each, the memories that stir should bring forth sunlight and passion’s heat, but, instead, conjure forth forbidding feelings of frozen desolation and dark despair
.
I yearn for a warmth that is promised, but not delivered.

Approaching yet another of the infinite crossings in the boundless maze of my mind, I pause – left, right, or straight, or should I simply turn around and retrace my steps to an earlier choice?

Would it make a difference? 
 
Uncertainty becomes a millstone hung around my neck and the weight forces my steps to slow to a crawl as I watch the motes of dust race by me to make each new memory a hazy dream.

Does it really matter…

at all?

Copyright © Frank Kuzel | Year Posted 2012

Details | Frank Kuzel Poem

Growing Pains

(Written in 1970 when I was a junior in high school)

Kyle’s only three and quite the tyke
And he wants to ride a two wheel bike
But his mom and dad say he’s too small
And they’re afraid that he might fall
Now on his cheek a tear-track’s stain
He’s suffering from growing pains

Jill’s just thirteen and she can’t wait
‘Til she goes out on her first date
She finds it hard to bite her tongue
When her parents say she’s still too young
She feels this treatment is inhumane
She’s suffering from growing pains

At twenty-four Paul’s a broken man
He went to college with big plans
‘Til he gave in to that young girl’s charms
And she stuck a needle into his arm
Now his plans revolve around cocaine
He’s suffering from growing pains

She’s thirty-five and should have it all
Because Erin was always the belle of the ball
But four kids and a job have taken their toll
And now she is feeling far beyond old
She once was a beauty but now she’s just plain
She’s suffering from growing pains

He’s forty-one and Bill had success
But now his life is a real mess
He thought to be rich, but he hadn’t figured
That he’d end up married to a gold digger
He has everything to lose and nothing to gain
He’s suffering from growing pains

Just fifty-six and in Jean’s once sharp mind
Her thoughts and dreams are so intertwined
That she doesn’t know which ones are real
Or what emotions she should feel
The doctor’s say she’s quite insane
She’s suffering from growing pains

Sixty years have now come and gone
And Bob sits staring at his lawn
He once took great care to keep it neat
Now it hurts too much to be on his feet
And he tries so hard to not complain
He’s suffering from growing pains

She’s seventy-one and Laura finds
Herself alone again in time
She’s lost her husband of some fifty years
And now she has nothing but her tears
She feels her heart has split in twain
She’s suffering from growing pains

At eighty-seven, Ed looks out
His window and wonders what life’s all about
Everyone he knew is gone
And he dreads facing another dawn
Now the organ plays a sad refrain
He’s suffered life’s final growing pain

Copyright © Frank Kuzel | Year Posted 2012

12

Book: Reflection on the Important Things