Best Date Poems
Opening line from "Highway Five Love Poem" by Ruth L. Schwartz
This is a love poem for all the tomatoes
I squished to make our Date-Night spaghetti.
Our love, like the pasta, was shiny. So the story goes.
We sit at our table, between us a rose
Red as the marinara I chose. (He let me).
This is a love poem for all our tomatoes.
We watch the steam, which the mouth quickly blows
Away (like the wind and those petals the day he met me).
Our love, like the pasta, was sticky. So the story goes.
We sip our red wine. Chianti, it has a good nose.
(In the morning, do you think he will regret me?)
This is a love poem. For all our tomatoes
Are gone, just as the wine hides grapes squished by toes
in authentic California vineyards. (You get me?)
Our love, like the pasta, was steamy. So the story goes.
We finish our meal with gestures the other knows.
(I wonder if he'll someday forget me.)
This isn't a love poem for all our tomatoes.
Our love, like our pasta, was al dente. So our story goes.
Death comes to all like a great shadow,
servant of reality when the truth of it sinks
in leaving the experience embedded on
one’s soul. Milt, given to remembrance
in his lifetime, moments flashing by, when
the congregation gathered to celebrate his
time on earth. But in the book of scrolls
winter is definite in which age must give way
to the new, one, he’d readily give for
the sprinkling of innocence created to start
life’s process all over again, with perpetual
regularity. He would, from behind the thin
veil of Ionna, bless and comfort the unfortunate,
the depressed, the lame of an earthly lifetime in
songs of praise. Leave a recipe for a foregone
conclusion. Auf wiedersehen, we will meet again!
February 6th 2023/ 2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers Final
Placement Poetry Contest.
Sponsor Mark Toney.
Mark Toney.
The clinical sentence was pronounced,
perfumed with the devil’s royal scent ~
a relapse that smells
like an ethereal remedy
as every restless leaf abandons
its luscious green to the grave,
where her heartbeat
still sighs amidst the sleepless sunrise
beneath the loam,
where gloaming once, upon a blood moon,
homed the valiant vibratos
of her laughter,
yet if the only way to remember
is to remain unhealed,
as russet strings
of a violin ring through,
carrying sweet nightmares ~
held within the dusk
like beloved nightingales,
letting my inner calendar
return to circling the date
when she last breathed my name ~
O divine darkness,
let me fade until the face
of September’s stars wane
and phase the sorrow
into soundless torrents of
rehearsed requiems
until hurt sounds like a hypnotic hymn.
I swallowed, O Griefversary,
my penance through turning time,
the italicised letters
chronicling the chronic memoirs
while the tongue of trauma
prescribes crippling anxiety
into my thoughts,
I have long bottled
blurred hope
and summer sonatas,
with every memory crushed
like an autopsy listed as an accessory,
weaving words
borrowed from archived affections
as I leave line after line,
no longer aching
for the dark to understand that
my faith developed a stutter,
my pulse filed pleas for Prozac,
my ink confessed unseen panic,
my skin carried fingerprints
of midnight fears ~
and I still walk through
the black rose maze of memories,
around the season of
her irrevocable demise ~
September, the soulful wraith
of ghosts I love beyond death…
I once dated a pilot …
We both had our head in the clouds
Our relationship lead to a lot of turbulence -
I guess it never really got off the ground!
I once dated a glazier…
He thought I would be putty in his hands
But I could see right through him…
He was constantly smashed
I once dated an undertaker…
He knew he had stiff competition
I couldn’t cope - he was always ‘coffin’ when he picked me up in his hearse
He had no sense of humour in fact he was dead boring
I once dated an angler
The thought he was a real catch…
But the scales soon fell from my eyes
As he was obsessed with his flies
I once dated a footballer
He thought he could score with me
Told me he had great tackle…
But it was just a load of balls
I once dated a fishmonger…
He thought he was cod’s gift to women
He invited me back to his plaice…
Where I found out he was really a cold fish
Submitted to 101 poems in a row
Sponsored by PD Linda:-)
15th April 2016
When missives of love amber winds reveal
Strumming ardent music of romantic themes
As bashful moon delights blushing eventide,
And doting hearts aspire to call of desires;
Meet me then, darling, as memories revive
Sparkling sweet smile of twinkle in your eyes.
By the river’s edge, where passions spree,
Hand in hand we stroll in fervor of ecstasy
Beneath glimmers scintillating stellar glee
As we amble in reveries for miles and miles
Where, pulses passionate, longingly chime
Of two souls in embrace, content in paradise.
Sitting on shores, adulating river burbling,
Listening to love crooning innermost feelings,
We wish this moment will hum till eternity,
Lost in night’s glory as it cedes to dawning
When golden beams glisten mauve breeze
Inscribing on horizon our periwinkle dream.
February 5, 2023
Poem of the day on February 7, 2023
Placed 1st: My Dream Date Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Dinner and dancing, perfect first date
Conversation flowing easily, it's going great
Breeze blowing her long auburn hair
Down towards the sea we disappear
Midnight stroll on the starlit beach
The perfect girl finally within reach
Moonlight illuminates her pretty face
Elegance, beauty, full of grace
Slowly, tenderly, our hands entwine
Hearts race she’s so divine
Can’t believe she is mine
My knees going weak
From her exotic mystique
My lips do shiver
A kiss she delivers
Hand in hand
Across the sand
Dreaming of wonderland
Two hearts
Love starts
Forever
10~19~14
Contest :I do not know Sponsor:- Andrea Dietrich
Collaboration Jan Allison & Tim Smith
~awarded 4th place~
we pressed our noses ‘gainst the restaurant glass
for we were just tossed out upon our ass
cuz we forgot our Covid vaccine pass
becoming citizens - now second class
a passerby informed us that our masks
were not up to their intended task
that we shouldn’t pass around our flask
within sight of the warm and steamy glass
the police were called to move us on our way
we insisted that we had the right to stay
assembled as a group of friends at play
they tasered us much to our shocking dismay
so let this be a lesson to your face
they’d rather that you keep your mask in place
tried to sip your drink with slurp-less grace
quickly left to clear another space
John G. Lawless
©1/14/2022
my fourteenth summer. .
the son of a preacher man
showing me heaven
His teasing ways and his boyish grin.
How easily I was taken in!
I felt like a woman in my cute short culottes and wearing pink frost lipstick
that he’d kissed off my mouth before the night was through.
My best friend, with her guy, was in the front seat of the car.
My date, her older cousin, was my first sweet honey bee.
We made out in the back seat, but he never got too far.
I was raised to value my virginity.
But my youthful heart was wishing we could kiss eternally!
Written Dec. 30, 2015
for The Poet's Dozen Contest of Silent One
Twas winter ninety-seven, all around the town
Houses lit up magically, parties all around.
Boyfriend says, come with me, to works Christmas dinner,
Dress up chic and sexy, looking like a winner.
Hair all done up, makeup on, gown that fits just right
We’ll impress his colleagues, I was such a pretty sight.
Ushered to our table, we sat with others there
Such a lovely evening, a truly posh affair.
Delicious food, friends were made, laughter filled the air,
A real nice Christmas party, memories to share.
Then came all the speeches, boring us all to death,
The best part was the here here’s, sniffing wines sweet breath.
Finally was time to dance, music filled the night,
Dancing in my ball gown which now was fitting tight.
Time and time we danced that night, in each other’s arms,
Him with me and me with him, showing off our charms.
Suddenly I laughed so hard, teeth went flying out,
Slide across the dance floor, feet pushing them about.
In a flash down on my knees, scurrying about,
Found the little suckers, and popped them in my mouth.
At the time I hoped and prayed nobody had seen,
When I popped them in my mouth, and where they had been.
Looking back, now I laugh, thinking it was funny,
I’m happy now my mouth can say “C’est la vie.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
10.26.2014
For Judy Konos Contest:
C’est la vie
1st
the wind was roaring
an open road forever-
trees a blur of green
My brother brought him home for supper one day,
I recall it was a beautiful warm day in the month of May.
I hung on the back of his powerful motorcycle, happiness
Oh, this was love! I had never felt such joy- in my young heart
He was everything that my parents hated
Rough, streetwise, a real bad boy, reckless
To me he was a guy that God himself created
He left me breathless and my memory is endless
But a life with him would have been dumb and careless
__________________________
December 23, 2016
Poetry/Verse/Haiku/Couplet/Free Verse/Quintain/
My First Date and Love- A Poet's Dozen
Copyright Protected, ID 16-738-196-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, A Poet's Dozen 2, First Date,
sponsor, Silent One
Third Place
Two bottles of wine
A loaf of sour dough bread
And thou...all now gone
I have a date;
with Destiny..
Feathered by fate;
and hipocracy...
Treading my fears...
Distancing my heart..
Screaming your name;
silenced from start...
Lost in the game...
Dead in my tracks..
Queried by love...
Stabbed in the back...
Taste of regret....
Following your lead...
Never to return...
Mentally freed....
All day long the little bird cries
Over and over again he tries
Full array for all the ladies passing by
Can't they see he's found a home
Where little babies can be grown
But he cannot do it alone
He's desperate for a date
He really needs a mate
In month of May it's not too late
On the little red house there sits a perch
Where on and off he chirps and chirps
But all the ladies only flirt
So alas this tale has but a sad end
As the little house sits with no one to attend
For it seems his services he could not lend
I still savor the thought of the zest that I caught
When you joined us that night after school.
Tara figured out why, since she’s so sage and sly;
She left early to show it was cool.
With her sis Tara-gon, Ginger sighed with a yawn,
“My, it’s late!” to clue in that nut-Meg.
“Would you look at the thyme!” came the reechoed chime,
With a wink from Corey-ander pal Peg.
Well, I felt like a god, though it seemed somewhat odd
That they all should jus’ curry, but hey,
When you gave me a smile as we two walked a while,
It dissolved my perplexed caraway.
In this teenagey bliss, I leaned in for a kiss,
Little knowing what I was against:
You demurred in a trice, “Though hot pepper is nice,
I insist that it’s parsley dispensed.”
With a panicky cast, I apologized fast
In my chili confusion and dread,
But I saw your eyes light, and we had a nice night
Holding hands at the cinnamon stead.
---
Credit where credit is due: I got the idea for this from Michael Wise's very original poem "A Spicy Story," posted here:
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/a_spicy_story_1100057
My dream date would have to be romantic.
I’m thinking of a long cruise out to sea
with stop-overs at beautiful locations
and with a man with eyes for only me.
My dream date would have to be in summer
so we could lie in leisure in the sun,
sand beneath our feet and playing handsies.
Then on the cruise ship having lots of fun.
My dream date will just remain a dream.
How romantic can my old man get?
He would never set foot on a cruise ship.
Has time travel been invented yet?
Feb. 5, 2023
For Anoucheka Gangabissoon's My Dream Date Poetry Contest