Narrative Marriage Poems

These Narrative Marriage poems are examples of Narrative poems about Marriage. These are the best examples of Narrative Marriage poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative |
Believing that marriage was ordained of God; 
that, like a seed, it needed constant nurturing, 
she sowed her deep devotion with a hope 
that stretched beyond an ordinary scope. 
That hope scanned schisms that had left her desolate-
until it reached the heavens with her prayers.

Time and time again, her spouse complained or failed to do small things
essential to cementing the marriage bond.
With unusual restraint, she held her tongue, forgave. . . and listened.
If matrimony were the fire in a hearth, she supplied the kindling and the logs;
then lauded him for twigs that on occasion he tossed in. 
Some nights she’d lay a weary head upon the chest 
of the one she called her husband (when he was fast asleep and didn’t know). 
In those moments, she felt the beat of that heart he never showed to her.

With humbleness she supplicated God 
that she might find connection with her mate.
She wondered and she wondered why. . .if thoughts, invisible, 
which were transmitted to the Lord, were able to be recieved by Him,
why could not her words, directly spoken to the one on earth she loved, be heard?

Daily on her knees, she telegraphed celestially with a faith most extraordinary. . . 
and wisdom came. Her love would not be broken, and she grew. 
The seed she’d planted took root too and grew until there came a time. . .
she laid a graying head upon the chest
of one that was her husband (not just in word only); 
a someone who now watched HER as she drifted off to sleep. 
With his heartbeat strong in her ear,
she heard him whisper softly, “I love you” as he kissed her cheek goodnight.

For Audrey Carey's "To Err Is Human to Forgive Divine"

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010

Details | Narrative |
There was a young woman living by the sea.
Her house was on the shore owned by her family.
The house of a fisherman that was tall and slender,
Was built on an island opposite to hers.

It was a starry night when they met.
Fisherman was on water preying fishes with net.
He saw a woman drowning in the sea,
She was caught by his baits accidentally.

The fisherman came to save her;
Brought her home and offered food and water.
Under the moon,they laughed and talked,
Footprints marked the sand as they walked.

The moonlight flashed in both eyes,
Hidden feelings suddenly arise.
Hearts were pierced by Cupid's dart
Filled the place with love and art.

Came the sun rise and ended their night,
Woman needs to go home and leave his sight.
Poor young fisherman can’t defy;
Hugged her and kissed goodbye.

Days have passed but memories still in mind.
On the balcony she sits, staring on the opposite side.
So she went to the opposite island to see him,
But found fisherman and his wife and child with him.

The woman stepped back and went to the shore;
She drowned herself for life’s not good anymore,
But someone stopped her and grabbed her.
It was fisherman who gladly said “You came back” and pulled her out of the water.

Out spoke the woman, --”You’re now married, so let me die!”
“What? I’m not married, you’re telling a lie!”
“I went to your house and saw you with your wife and child!”
“That’s my twin brother”, the fisherman smiled.

Now, it’s the fisherman and the woman living by the sea,
In an island where they both dwell happily.
With the moon above, they exchanged their vows so quiet,
On a lovely night where the stars are bright.

Copyright © Flora Mae Gudez | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
'With these vows the two shall become as one.'

On December 15th. 1971
we decided to fill our wedding day 
 with  a shared passion.
Our love of horses and the romance 
of a horse drawn carriage.
My intended- for years- had preserved his grandfather's  
old sulky, just for the love, of what it stood for. 
We set about a full restoration. First to find 
an upholsterer who could restore 
the aged,  buttoned leather seat 
and to search all the old sheds around 
for a missing candle lamp. So much still needed,
a  leather horse collar, not to mention a harness
and long leather, sulky reins.

We had all the old horsemen from all around the district
offering us  advice - some joking some strict.
Be sure to throw the wooden wheels into a dam to soak
for a week so the wood swells into the steel rims, "Otherwise,
those rims will roll right away,  as soon as you  get going."

Well, the sulky was all finished shiny and ready to roll
without a horse to pull it.  We tried to break a quiet
piebald but Patches wanted nothing to do with it.
Wild eyed at what she sensed was behind her
she bucked and with her panicked hooves tattooed 
the wooden baseboard.  No- one knew of a horse 
these days that was broken to harness- 
except, of course, the Gillen's retired pacer, "Little Rocket.

The big day came and I painted her hooves shiny black,
attached a white feather plume to her forelock bridle strap.
Everyone joked, " When they ring the church bells,
she'll do the bell lap."
An old trusted friend and former rodeo rider drove me 
Little Rocket delivered me to the church in one piece.
The townspeople turned out and lined the main  street.

I'll never forget in the Butcher's shop the next day,
another customer recognized me and told me  a funny tale.
Her little three year old saw me going past and called,
 "Mum, come quick. There a woman going past in a cart 
with something - on her head." 

Still together after forty five years those fond memories
 bind our loving hearts.   When the best man in his speech
announced, " I was the only bride he knew who  had
spent more time - getting the horse ready
than on  herself."

March 7th. 2016

Not for contest
Couldn't do it in 14- 24 lines.

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
Dreams Of Reality
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears

A difference of a world a way
A distance of a different kind
Love is blind and divine
Hold my hand
Let us touch the sunshine
On this hill of heaven we stand 
I pray

From one another 
Life and the world will never take us
Unless it’s together
Then we will become forever
Never leaving each others presence
Our bond becomes stronger in living
With every day
I stare into your glare
Wishing we live on; and long 
Strong and healthy 
We will grow old
In a happy union together
Looking beside me
Coming to a reality
You’re not there
My dreams are not reality 
My love has perished. 

Copyright © Nate Spears | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Seems a lifetime ago, I said “I do”
After I’d declared my love for you.
A vow sincere that is as true today
As it was upon that cold grey day.

It was a long ago, December day
When we started on our married way,
Serenely in Love, sealed with a ring,
To share whatever life might bring.
Today our way, remains ever clear,
Allowing us to accept without fear,
The future. Our passion - never stilled,
Allowed our hearts’ desires to be filled, 

And though we are no longer young,
We climb life’s ladder, rung by rung:
Safe in knowing love will never end,
Both for me, and my life-love, friend.

Sometimes we’ll sit, holding hands:
Or walk in silence, for each understands
Love’s bonds, stronger every day,
Preclude the need for words to say.

When gazing into her soft brown eyes,
Therein is seen the girl I met: no surprise
She was the one I loved so long ago,
And since that day, has remained ever so.

Life has been great, I’m without regret,
For never once has there been one met
Who can compare with my Jersey Rose:
Perfect in every way, as you’d suppose.

Rhymer.  May 6th, 2016

Copyright © Denis Barter | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
Dad's youngest brother
is younger
than my brother:
Dad being the eldest
in his family,
my brother being
the eldest in mine.

Mother's sister
wed Dad's cousin.
Their offspring and I
are double cousins.

I crossed county lines
to choose a mate
totally unrelated.
Dream on.
Somewhere back there,
the name Pratt dangles
from both family trees.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
“You want me to give you my daughter’s hand in marriage….
without the blessing of your family on this union?”
My father sternly eyed the love of my life.
I was quaking inside…
Why did this whole thing have to be so difficult?
Why did WE have to be modern day Romeo and Julliet with the Capulets and the Montagues out to kill our love? Why?

“You have MY blessing on this union. It should be enough.  
It is all I can offer. I am willing to be disowned by my family, if need be.
They have threatened to throw me out.  I am willing to pitch a tent on campus 
and live there if that becomes a reality. That is how much I love your daughter.“

My father was quiet for a moment. What a decision to make!  In a community
where shame and honor ruled supreme, he had to decide whether to subject
his daughter, indeed, his whole family, to public disgrace by making it known that she was not wanted, or to bring her joy by granting to her the desire of her heart...this young man.

My brother was not so giving. “How could you? Don’t you know the
things she is saying behind your back? You are dragging our good name in the
dirt.”  I couldn't understand him. How could he not care about his best friend's love for me, his sister? Was honor that important? I would soon find out…the silence was unbearable.

“Had I not known that you are a man of honor, a man of your word, and that you can stand up to your mother, I would not do what I am going to do now….which is to promise you my daughter’s hand in marriage.” 

My heart skipped a beat as I let out a sigh of relief.  My man beamed at me. How proud I was of him. Our love would pay the price of shame, for there is nothing more honorable than to love and be loved, no matter the cost.

For Kim Morrisen's Contest
Tell me a True Story
June 19, 2013

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Dint of darkness running in my blood  
A Love less marriage in the pool of mud 
Heathen Heart and a crying soul 
Filthy promising -lies  untold 
Blinded by your Vampire Love
Is it something that I deserve ?
I ran for your Love and you for my money !
This hum drum game is no longer funny !
Let me depart from your ludicrous life
Stop calling me your miserable WIFE . 

A lot of poets in this forum can relate themselves with this 
miserable condition .

Copyright © Red Fiery | Year Posted 2011

Details | Narrative |
I am still me
but you are not you
things are different
what can I do

you look the same
as yesterday
but something happened
along lifes way

no conversation
you don't seem to care
if I am with you
or out somewhere

for hours on end
you sit and stare
the tv's your friend
the perfect pair

Copyright © chris hardy | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
Feel In The Blanks
By Curtis Johnson

After watching the weather reports, Mr. Cee, who lived in California, called his sister in Brooklyn.  He misdialed and reached young Mr. Dee in Pennsylvania. Their conversation quickly turned to weather and  sports.

The two men soon moved on to more serious matters, and the young Mr. Dee began opening up to a stranger. The more the young man expressed his feelings in his story, Mr. Cee saw himself in the young man.  As Mr. Dee continued speaking, Mr. Cee saw some empty spaces like blanks being skipped, but he refused to interrupt and kept listening very intensely. The older gentleman sensed Mr. Dee needed someone to listen to him until he was ready for input.  At the same time, Mr. Cee wondered how different his life might have been had someone listened to his heart with love, compassion, and understanding.

Young Mr. Dee then paused and invited Mr. Cee to speak into his life.  This was an easy task, because he had already walked that bumpy road, flew those unfriendly skies, and swam that muddy river.  The blanks that he noticed in the dialogue was part of the life he had lived.  It was as if the older man was watching a movie episode of his own life.  He was able to help the young gentleman chart a course that he had already sailed.  He not only saw the blanks that the young man either ignored or denied, but he experienced and felt them as a young man.                                                                                                  

Therefore, Mr. Cee was able to fill in the blanks, because he could feel in the blanks.  When the young man shared about the pain and deep struggles of his marriage and wanted ‘out’, Mr. Cee, who was in reality an older Mr. Dee, was able to feel the same pain and stir him in a different direction.  He taught him that marriage not only needed love between two people to survive and thrive, but that the two of them also needed a three-fold covenant that included God.

Before they finished, in addition to the marital lessons, Mr. Cee showed him several values necessary for success in life.  They were: The value of being in control of his emotions.  The value of a personal relationship with God.  And the value of being dedicated to the service of others.  Mr. Cee was able to help Mr. Dee, because he was able    ‘to  f e e l”  in the blanks of the young man’s life.  And also because as an older man, those blanks had   “already been filled”   in his own life.

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
She was tidying up the food store,
then soon a mouse appeared on a shelf.
"What a cuuuute lil thing....." she whispered.
So touched by it's white fur and pink nose,
that she called her husband from the sitting room.
He came, he saw, and searched for a baseball bat.
"I'm killing this pest!" he shouted, as he raised the bat.
His wife stood right in front of the mouse. 
"If you gonna kill this cute, lil thing, you gonna pass
through me first!" she quipped.
Her husband was surprised to the core of his bone marrow,
that he sat on a stool close to him. He cupped his palms
on the bat, and lay his head on top of them.
"What are you thinking, Sweetheart?" she asked.
He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time,
and shook his head with dismay written all over his face.
"You love that mouse, don't cha?" 
Her face became red with rage.
"Ok, so you want to kill this cutie because you're jealous?!
Ha! This is unbelievable! How can you believe I love it more than
I do love you??!!" 
Her husband's face had slowly turned from dismay to utter
Noticing the look on his face, she became angrier.
"Aha! Now you are chuckling in your heart because you don't
care at all!! You are still planning how you'll kill this innocent
creature, isnt it?!?!?"
"Honey, that's a rodent, ok?"
"Now you think I don't know what a rosent is?!?! I had an A
in Biology and had a scholarship to......never mind!!
Her husband bursted out laughing.
She had a blank look on her face.
"Sweetie, let's make it a pet....." 
"Why didn't you say so before!!" she screamed, as she hugged
him, while seated on the stool.
"What name will we call it?" he asked.
"Hmmmmmm....... "Tommy!"
"Wha...what?! Your ex's name?! You're not serious!!
He treated you like a douche bag, and you still call out his name?!
She was enraged once again.
"One, it's just a name. Two, I'm not a douche bag!!"
For hours they argued from one point to the other,
as the mouse helped itself out with some dried corn....

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |

Tomorrow, tomorrow
... not today
I will give you mine; "I do"
Something borrowed, something blue
but not a white bride

I think of this day as a new beginning
Remember the good, forget the sad one
Love must be added
and multiply the pleasures
Our strength together as fire and water

Tomorrow, tomorrow
... not today
I will give you mine; "I do"
Something borrowed, something blue
but not a white bride

Let the promise of this day last forever
A toast for all dreams we are going to share
Enjoy the first glitter of the morning sun
Love will shape our hearts

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Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |
A couple of years later, at age 19, this farm girl married and, true to her Catholic
upbringing, began having children. She had four live births and four miscarriages over the course of less than seven years, long before the idea of “post-partum” depression was even a gleam of understanding in anyone’s mind.  After the birth of her fourth child, a girl who would grow up to study environmental sciences and eventually draw the correlation between that first atomic explosion and her mother’s first episode of mental, emotional and physical distress, that infant had to be taken by her aunt and uncle to care for lest she perish from failure to thrive because by this time, mom was so deeply depressed, she was unable to care for her newborn.  

In those days there was no such thing as mental health care, no understanding at all of how to nourish the brain or detox the body from the effects of poisons and radiation…for indeed these advances are only recently gaining traction and still only in the realm of “alternative health care”.  With no understanding of her condition, or of what would even constitute appropriate care, her state of mind and body continued to deteriorate. After more than one suicidal episode and losing her children to foster care while she entered a treatment and rehabilitation facility, she was eventually diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenic and manic-depressive, giving her husband sufficient justification to divorce her and blame her parents for not telling him that she was mentally deficient before he married her. Even the Catholic Church agreed and granted an annulment of the marriage that produced his four live children and four miscarriages while he served in the Air Force and left her to care for his children while he was away for years at a time overseas on unaccompanied assignments. But nevertheless, the marriage was officially annulled so that he could marry again sanctioned by the Church and his Catholic bride could continue to take unholy communion in mass.

Copyright © Linda Witt-King | Year Posted 2010

Details | Narrative |
Loneliness affected my waste, due to fire-heart and desire
Craving perfection~A true love story, told in the heat of passion
Majesty to my backbone, ball of fire upon confinement
Emperor to all my fire balls of love, until peace and quiet 
Hit my soul, touched- thus depressing feeling
Running in blood

Silence, in my lust~O greed for another, took away this drive
Energy of love, left isolation controlling my itch
For I hunger no-more, upon lies and friendly companionship
Sympathetic puts a face of loneliness, longing for true love
True love to be so true, yet never abused, has love was used
Upon my heart, cheated in many ways, disobeying under skies
Violate marriage into a face of loneliness

The many nights my heart is left in shadows secluded
Thinking of our love story, laughter and tears
Many nights you held me tight it was bright
Now I go on every night with a fight, has I continue to cry
This love story to you, in the little time left under my feet
Hoping you would see, I never stop loving you
It’s so true

Has I must say good-bye face of loneliness and you
Crowned-headed to my loyalty and beauty
Is no longer, yours love sweet love
I send thus love story upon the wings of a dove
So your heart may know, my roses will stand above
Face of loneliness, will cure the knife left in my back
So please, don’t forget to write back 
Love always, Face of Loneliness

Copyright © Delilah Ventura | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
When the Autumn Leaves Fall...

Blossoms bloom red
Your pretty smile falls beneath your head
Brunette flow
Healthy glow
From then on you hid in my sheets
The thing you were running from I never got to meet
I rushed in
Not knowing it was a bear’s den
We got married
I thought I was what you would need
We planted seed after seed
To grow a tree
But time went on
And you were slowly on your way to gone
I figured out pretty fast
That on your heart’s list I was last
Every day you woke
Around the house a dying smell poked
My affections were true
But you not loving me was something I knew
Don’t wear that disguise
I’m immature but a little wise
I know all your lies
We share the same lives!

Eventually destiny hit in the autumn leaves
With the foxes you became a thief
You threw out my wedding ring
Mascara covered eyes; you were a mess
I didn’t have to guess
You were accompanied by a luggage bag
I watched you leave not knowing you left with all I had
Where do I turn
What lesson is there to be learned!
I am so confused
I’m not walking in my own two shoes

It’s been about a year
My own life I can’t steer
I know I was not in your view
But I’m troubled because I think I stuck onto you like glue
I’m drowning because
These memories are not fading to fuzz
There all a little to real and alive
Dark realization you were all I strived
You were what I sought out
Why I am still teary eyed and missing you remains about

Well I grew that tree and carved our names
To you our love was all fun and games
Then I scratched them out from pain and regret!
My chained emotions had to be let...
Let go
This I think know
But why is letting go still something I am pondering
My heart still does ring
I’m still coming across the past
Your still what I had last
I remember the first time you said hi
I still ask why
Why was I the scapegoat?
Being with you, was it not an authentic lump in my throat?

I stare at the sky so dark
Clarity on mark
I clear my brain
My heart’s stain
My intentions are now in sink
I take a deep breath and blink
Your gone like that
This time I know it’s a fact
I stepped out of the thorn bush and onto the path
I satisfied my own wrath
It took a while for everything to be white
I left you with the fire it took forever to light
I left it all behind
To burn with my battered mind


Copyright © Aidan Gilbert | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
As newlyweds we moved to Houston, where the traffic was insane.
I was finishing college there, and it made the commute a royal pain.
My husband told me emphatically to never park out in the road,
But one week he was out of town, and I figured he wouldn’t know.

I went next door to visit a friend, then suddenly we heard a loud bang.
It was gunfire, and shots that had ominously rang.
We looked out the window and it was utter chaos.
My van was being used as a shield, and the cops were in a face-off.

My heart was pounding as I thought of my poor van in the street,
Knowing when my husband found out, I would be in the proverbial hot seat.
Luck was on my side, and my van escaped without a scratch,
But it made the nightly news about the perilous shooting match.

I decided since there was no damage, I would just keep quiet.
About six months later I told my husband and broke my duplicitous silence.
He said, “I told you so,” and lectured me on where to park.
I vowed not to park there again, silently wishing I had left him in the dark.

Copyright © Brenda McGrath | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
One Summer Night

Can you believe it my dear?
The passage of time is enough to draw tears                                                This June, we will have been married 44 years

Do you remember when and where we were                                                  when I proposed to you one summer night?
I do, and never will forget it

It was on that embarrassing night in Chicago                                              when I kissed your neck and tasted                                                                the bitterness of your perfume

Yes, it was bitter; but your spirit and
Personality were sweeter than honey.
You are still sweet; and I hope that I
never cause you any taste of bitter

I know there are times that I get busy,                                                    become engaged with something                                                                     and take you for granted.
For such times, I'm sorry

But do not worry my beloved, not even for a moment;
Because I know what I have, and will always love you.
Happy Valentine my dear
02122016 ( PS Contest, Valentine Poem To Your Beloved, sponsored by Nayda Negron)

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
Love stood before Loyalty her soon to be husband and a chapel full of wedding guests wearing a crown of Olive leaves, dressed in light, and holding a bouquet of pink Lilies.
Love and Loyalty looked into each other's eyes and exchanged vows.

Loyalty:"My dream of making you my wife has become a reality.  I promise to hold you in my arms and keep you safe for all eternity.  I promise to cherish you and treat you like royalty."

Love:"I've been waiting for this moment ever since my heart took it"s first best.  Like Doves flying on the winds of peace I promise to uphold this marriage above the clouds of serenity."

Surrounded by all the virtues Loyalty and Love kissed.

Written by Keith Edward Baucum

Copyright © Keith Baucum | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |
It was that damn, no wax, light blue floor.
That was the last atrocity, the very last straw.
Spilled spoils, splattered toils, Roach Motel sadness.
Soilent dust collected from a kitchen cooking madness.
I said, "Sweetheart, it's over. No more. I am done."
"It's time for my geisha. To be born. To become."

Her books I discarded: Cosmo. and Real,
Obliterating all scuff marks of boots and high heels.
At the entrance to each room I posted a sign:
I said, "Sweetheart, it's over. No more. I am done."
"It's time for my geisha. To be born. To become."

I purchased and dressed her in costumes divine,
Of gold and spun silk, a traditional line.
She learned the art of walking on my back without a hitch.
She fed me like an emperor and scratched my every itch.
Until that rabid day I lost my lovely geisha ...
To a bitch!

Now I'm rejected, neglected and shunned.
No wife. No geisha. No body. No sun.
I could have foretold the events you have read:
A carpet abused unweaves its thread.
Still, I must have my geisha --
To my grave I will tread....

Copyright © Tom Arnone | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
Turning her back to the wedding guests Lust throws a bouquet of Poison Ivy and Venus Flytraps 
her head.  Stepping in front of Sloth, Envy snatches the the bouquet out of the air.  "Nice catch Envy" 
said Sloth with slow slurred speech.  "Thank you Sloth and I do believe green is more my color".  
Turning around to see who caught the bouquet Lust wasn't a bit surprise to see Envy holding the 
Poison Ivy and Venus Flytraps.  "Well Envy I guess you're next to be wedded off" stated Lust.  Pride 
motions for Hatred to release the owls.  Unlocking the huge cage Hatred releases the owls.  Slow to 
take flight the great owls flap their wings and ascends into the darkness.  "Let's get this party 
started.  Turn on the music" yelled Greed.  As the sins partied the night away the sun came rising in 
the country Tranquility.  "Are you ready to spend all eternity together?"  Loyalty asked Love as they 
stood on their balcony.  "My dear, dear, husband soon to be you already know the answer to the 
question you ask".  As Loyalty and Love stand locked in a warming embrace being kissed by the 
rays of the sun the two share a kiss of their own.  Beep, beep, beep "Well this is a perfect time for my 
communicator to beep" breaking her embrace with Loyalty, Love answers her communicator.  
"Hello Faith how are you?"  "I'm fine Love and how are you?"  "I'm ready to start this new era in my 
life".  "I'm looking over your wedding file.  Are there any last minute changes you want to make?"  
"No Faith everything's perfect".  "I'm outside of your house waiting on you Love.  Let's get going".  
"I'll be right down.  I have to go Loyalty".  Grabbing Love by the waist and pulling her close Loyalty 
whispers in her ear "Are you sure this is what you want?"  "I've wanted you when I first saw you.  
Now if you'll excuse me Faith is waiting for me". 
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka Red Seven aka The Green Poet aka The Brown Philosopher

Copyright © keith baucum | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
Rust ate away the Tin Man's heart,
but I never stopped loving.
After abandoning me, who wouldn't
need a wizard's magic to restore
some semblance of feeling?
Loving me was like loving a tin can:
I always had something to offer.
Loving him was no more than loving tin foil:
he crumpled from every wifely demand.

After passion had worn out his iron cock,
he marched into the woods -- as he fled,
my desperate words flung from a resolute mouth
bounced harmlessly off an impenetrable backside.
I cried, threw things, carried on for days,
but nothing flipped the switch in his mind.
[The robot was intent on leaving me.]

So alone as I was, I did not regret my actions:
I sold that bastard's heart to a junkyard. 

This poem appears online at Words are a Need.

Copyright © Kelsey May | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
Her eyes were red and swollen with tears...
"Happy Thanksgiving, my Love!!" the mail read. 
The love message was sent three years ago,
when she had an argument with him;
she recalls how she cried when he told her he had gone
to The Second Wife for a brief business dinner,
then they'd go out for a movie.
Her eyes were too teary and blurry to read any mails or tweets.
It was only a matter of time, before she realized
The Second Wife was a restaurant,
not his ex-wife.
She couldn't handle the guilt of missing her husband's single mail,
because of a simple misunderstanding between a place and a person.
For three years he gave her undying attention, and classic, romantic,
but simple Thanksgiving treats.  

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016

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The Fugitive

He’s now subdued and has health issues.
He was once in a dysfunctional marriage.
He’s presently in a stable relationship.

He’s more responsible and doesn’t drink like he use to.
He’s a gentleman, and no longer beats and abuses women.
Once a dead beat dad; he’s now trying to be a good father.
Once like an enemy to me; but now, he’s civil and a friend.

But there was a long journey before entering the road to civility.
He had prior criminal offenses before I ever came to know him.
Serving time for his crimes did little to alter his bad behavior.
He disturbed my family’s peace, and the peace of my neighbors.

The law did not protect anyone from the destruction of his disturbed soul.
He refused to surrender to law enforcement to face the music for his crimes.
Becoming a fugitive from justice,  he fled the continental United States, and
remained so for some five years.  

No man is an Island, and at some point, we all get caught.
He has now paid his debt to society, and his running days are over.

03092016 PS Contest, “A Fugitive”, by Julia Ward

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016

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A poetess once told me,
"Power shifts balance all the time
Empires crumble
Wealth and greatness shades too.
The only prosperity you can bed forever is love."
So i married her.

Copyright © PENINNAH NGANGA | Year Posted 2014

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Loneliness sways me slowly.
My heart starts to feel weary.
Am I getting tired to experience love?
Oh God! Grant me this so- called strength.

I thought you're the perfect man for me,
But it start to fail me.
You're imperfection ruins me.
Oh God! Grant me this so-called courage.

My love for you would never change,
Since.. we exchanged our solemn vows.
Now breaking some great promises,
Oh God! Grant me this so-called trust.

Why do I feel these crazy things right now?
Am I neglected? or not content with me somehow?
Waiting for your good response,
Oh God! Grant me this so- called patience.

Little by little, I'm about to lose you.
Uttering lips are shut into coldness.
Our happy days turn into quiet hours.
Oh God! Grant me this so called-passion.

Why you let me feel that I am nothing?
Am I not worthy to be your lady?
Or you've just realized that I'm not the one?
Oh God! Grant me this so- called faith.

Time flies and I need an answer.
Looking for that or letting you go?
But I couldn't bear this kind of emptiness,
Oh God! Grant us the unity of love.

Would I give up or stay at your side?
A silent cry is my reply.
I'm losing hope and yielding with sighs
Then one night you whispered, "You're the only one whom I love."
"I've got busy with my future plan."
"To renew our vows on our 20th, my love."
Then I yelled, "Oh God! Thank you for your undying love."

Copyright © Veronica Nicolas | Year Posted 2017

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The college town of Evanston was where we first met.
It was the summer of 1970, when Mr. Nixon was president.

It would be two years later before we’d be married;
And we were forced to be long distance lovers.

Before the internet and wide use of cell phones, we made                           expensive landline calls, or otherwise wrote letters.

Yes, we did ‘the otherwise’ and wrote letters between the lakes.
My lake?  Lake Michigan in Chicago. And hers?  Winona Lake, Indiana.

The letters are most revealing of two people engaged to be married.
They portray simple facts, figures, people, places, and things.

One of the envelopes reveals a postal date of March 8, 1972,                         and a .08 postage stamp with the face of President Eisenhower.

My future wife indicated that it arrived the very next day.
This was long before Fed Ex and US Postal Next Day Express.

It seems that some things, like mail, take longer now and rises in price;
But life and love were simple and beautiful then, as we read our letters.

Between weekends; between two lakes; and between two states;
Love and romance were sweet, even though separated by some 90 miles.

Long before Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, there was love and romance.
Long before the instant gratification of email, there was long distant love.

Yes.  The love was tried, but it thrived.  The time and space were long.
Moreover, the love not only survived, but has lasted more than 40 years.
10122016 PS Contest, Long Distant Love, Nicola Byrne

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016

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Covered in darkness wearing a veil of evil.  The bride stands before her groom and a vile host of
wedding guests.  The heat and hate that filled the air was so thick that they all choked on it.
Baffled and amazed that Lust the biggest slut ever was about to wed Greed.  Everyone watched 
with anticipation as a union of sin was joined in unholy matrimony.  The words that flowed from 
the mouth of Pride the priest cut through the air like swords.  "Disgustingly wicked we have come
together in the presences of demonic forces to behold the joining of this devil and slut in unholy 
matrimony.  This band and covenant of marriage was established by evil in darkness.  Lust will 
you have Greed to be your husband; to live together in the covenant of marriage?  Will you obey him,
lay with him, and fulfill his sexual desires as long as you both shall live?"  With the flames of hell burning in her eyes Lust answers "I will".  "Greed will you have Lust to be your wife; to live together in the covenant of marriage?  Will you supply and adorn her with riches as long as you both shall live?"  With a twinkle in his eyes that sparkles like gold Greed answers "I will".  "By the powers invested in evil the bride and groom may kiss".  As their lips touched their wedding guests were as silent as a corpse.  Turning her back to the wedding guests Lust throws a bouquet of Poison Ivy and 
Venus Flytraps over her head.  Stepping in front of Soth, Envy snatches the bouquet out of the air.  "Nice catch Envy" said Sloth with slow slurred speech.  "Thank you Envy and I do believe green is more my color".  Turning around to see who caught the bouquet Lust wasn't a bit surprise to see Envy holding the Poison Ivy and Venus Flytraps.  "Well Envy I guest your next to wedded off" stated Lust.  Pride motions for Hatred to release the owls.  Unlocking the huge cage Hatred releases the owls.  Slow to take flight the great owls flap their wings and ascends into the darkness.  "Let's get the party started.  Turn on the music" yelled Greed.  As the sins partied the night away.  The sun came rising in the country Tranquility.  "Are you ready to spend all eternity together?"  Loyalty asked Love as they stood on their balcony.  "My dear, dear, husband soon to be.  You already know the answer to the question you ask".  As Loyalty and Love stand locked in a warming embrace being kissed by the rays of the sun.  The two share a kiss of their own.

Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka The Green Poet

Copyright © keith baucum | Year Posted 2014

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Memories consume me, repeatedly in my head.
Every step we took together rewinds.
How he was so cautious with everything he said.
How reserved he was in life, and when the talk of marriage came
I could see him lose his mind. The more we spoke about it the more he gave in
Until I saw a victory soon closing in. now he barely looks at me if he awakes at all we are 
two strangers to share the same bed and trapped by the same walls.

Copyright © mrs. anonymous | Year Posted 2013

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     This is it, the final step before crossing the line and I’m not sure I want to stop. What happens when I cross the line, the end? The end of all he and I share but what do we share besides pain and arguments; we share absolutely nothing. Maybe we have a few moments in time that we both believe that we wouldn't go back and change anything and then reality hits, I love him but I can see it, it being all the arguments that are to come. He will grow to hate me for asking him to quit school and even though I never actually asked, we both know that’s what I wanted. 
     Honestly, I am not sure of what is better anymore, if we should just move on and act as if we never happened, waste our time we spent together and start a new; or simply push our regret and anger into the back of our minds until we blow up repeatedly acting as if it were just spit of insanity. I am nothing more than his wife, not bound by anything more than a small piece of paper and some empty words. I wouldn't blame him for hating me; I could hardly even be upset. Life has tossed up a curve ball and we drop it every time. Neither of us exactly sure of what the other wants, I understand in instances that the first year of marriage is supposedly the hardest, you push and pull and see how much you can get away with; but we just push and push each other away and get nothing out of it. Maybe it was never love after all maybe we both will just wake up and it will all just be a dream, and maybe I am just another house wife realizing my marriage isn't as good as I thought it would be.

Copyright © mrs. anonymous | Year Posted 2013

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is being stuck in the elevator with that hot flirty associate
Clive Christian lux on him invigorating your senses
inviting muscles clearly designed on the twill tight shirt
his butt narrating all there is to know bout "his good loving."
he is the 'baller and the club manager'
and everything about him screams come get me baby
and everything in you screams "All ready for you papi!"
Finding the strength and courage to suppress all that want
closing eyes and recalling that ugly fight with your spouse this morning
and knowing too well you would rather go home to him/her even though you might not be getting none tonight.

Marriage is knowing the betray,the guilt,and the self-disgust that comes after the deed on temptation is not worth it!

Gladly Coming home to you baby after five!!!

Copyright © PENINNAH NGANGA | Year Posted 2014