Best Inamorata Poems
I am your inked inamorata,
enamored and heaven-drunk,
sipping courtly creed
from the chrysalis chalice
of what love could unleash ~
as the heart heeds what’s unsaid
when stellar heat waves
thunder in sync with lightning,
still musing with
the monotony of muted music…
It was never the radiant rhythm
of romanticized rhymes
that pulled me,
but the arcane gaze
of your trip-uh-licious alchemy,
the ice-flame blues of
a draconian dreamer,
still intriguing this
intuitive incandescence
like a dangerous desperado
sailing me to an ocean of devotion.
O primal paramour,
purify this pained pulse,
heal the hurting nocturnal Helios
amidst your eyes that roam,
reaching for the rhinestone flickers,
blind to this burn.
While your hallowed hands
unknot the sky, wedded
to the thrilling threads
of my mourning moon,
calm your vagabond psyche
and listen to the evocative voice
of my unwavering verses ~
veiled in vermilion,
within the purged pages
enveloped in sand-soaked silk.
There you will hear
the black-cat moan
footprints of faithful fervency,
the lifelines of loyal luminescence,
clawed to compassion
generously giving,
serving the aromatic air
that carries your mystical musk ~
So let the ghost awake,
let the forgotten rise again.
Watch the wickedness unweave
the faults of an untamable warrior.
Are you satisfied being
vehemently investigated
by an emotionally intense telescope,
holding you viciously
to the lethal lens of feral ferocity?
Here comes the grace-giver.
I am born to dominantly bestow…
Man of melancholy - memories ashen and shadow gray,
heart harrowed, solicits solace from her psychic energy.
An offering, his woebegone weeping wildflower bouquet,
teardrops titian, sorrow scintillant, reflects rueful reverie.
Heart harrowed solicits solace from her psychic energy,
free falling through forlorn filigree, he mourns at her gravestone.
Teardrops, titian sorrow scintillant reflects rueful reverie
of his Earth angel, soul-lifted too soon, spiritually sown.
Free falling, through forlorn filigree he mourns. At her gravestone
fragrance haunting, flowers flaring heartsick hallucinations
of his Earth angel soul-lifted too soon; spiritually sown
blue scented efflorescence of suffering lamentations!
Fragrance... haunting flowers flaring heartsick hallucinations
of inamorata, flame extinguished expectant with their child.
Blue scented efflorescence of suffering lamentations
bedevil his mind. Happiness, hope exiled, ego beguiled.
Of inamorata flame extinguished expectant with their child,
an offering; his woebegone weeping. Wildflower bouquet
bedevils his mind, happiness, hope. Exiled ego beguiled,
man of melancholy memories - ashen and shadow gray.
Susan Ashley
September 16, 2017
~Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: Favorite Pantoum Premiere
Sponsor: Laura Loo
~ First Place ~
Contest: Poems That Paint A Picture 2
Sponsor: Silent One
* based on a pencil drawing by Mike Theuer provided by Silent One on contest page *
Companion?
not yet
Girlfriend?
no
(nondescript and tired)
Sweetheart?
the heart is deeper than that
it’s not coated in Honey
the word doesn’t do you justice
Beloved?
ah to be loved
a misconstrued formation -yes
the creation of words is vital
Darling
hold me in your grasp
in the
Dearest
of all embraces
a touch enlightens like a
Flame red
my
Inamorata
my
Paramour
you keep me
Steady
you my
Suppliant of pure intentions
i
Swain in your presence
you the
Recipient of my eternal bliss
my one and only
Truelove
you -my
Valentine
At eventide,
Under the roseate glow
Of the receding evening sun
I sauntered down the road
To where my beloved dwell
Not far-off from my own abode
Fast by his threshold
A low moan issued from his room
I made open the unlocked door
And so I happened upon him
Mightily taking his mistress
My eyes grew wide in shock
I made as if to storm,
But then stopped
Loosed upon me, an exquisite pain
Felt with every fibre of my being
Soundlessly, I turned around
Post-haste, homeward bound
In great dolour, I walked onward
Carrying my enfeebled feet
Heedless of the lowering clouds
Lightning flashing, thunder pealing
Yet I walk onward
And so the heaven opened
Pouring, the rain
The entire me suffused with it
Thus I quiver in frost, yet
I walked my leaden leg in the drenching rain
And so the inky blackness of the night cast over me
The evanescent rain went home
Afterwards , I gained my shelter
All rain-drenched
I laid, inert in my bed
With an unblinking stare,
My eyes cast into the void
Benightedly, I fell in the arms of Morpheus
And I saw the door opened with a groan
Came in, my inconstant lover
He drew nearer and sat fast by me
I couldn't cast a look at him
For scalding tears welled up in my eyes
He pillowed my head on his chest
And nursed me in his arms
Touched his lips to my locks
Now patting, now caressing
My shoulder, my tresses
His heart beating pitter-patter
He held the nape of my neck
And with an undertone voice
Whispered to my ear
Forgive my failings, my Inamorata
You're a vision of beauty,
And you're my true love.
I harkened to the honeyed words
Falling from his silver tongue
My heart leapt
Thus, hungrily,
I bathed his lips with sensuous kisses
And I melted into his embrace.
I arouse from my slumber, behold!
E'en the murky darkness of the night
Has passed away
And the sun, smiling in the heavens
But my heart, still heavy with pain
Alas! Who to bring solace to my lugubrious tear-stained visage
what makes the heart feel for something it can't touch?
his tears caused contractions for his heart to pulse
floundered, looking for loves heartache to clutch
whimsical solace of her essence startles his impulse
shouldering the bane of a kiss that foreshadowed trifles
kooky huh? how time unleashes emotions restrained behind pride
losing his beloved inamorata to an admirer she mollycoddles
his heart became friable to the echo of her suicide
It was the absence of a note that left his worries unverified
what makes the heart feel for something it can't touch?
Now alone and without; a lovers heart is mummified
he will never love another as much
the “ghost orchid” has become her epithet
the rules of this game have changed, misère ouverte.
I chose Bonnie Raitt “I can't make you love me” because when I listened to it it brought
back memories of my childhood feeling second to my fathers work. His physical presence was
always their, but his heart belonged to his work and still is. After listening to the song 5 or 6
times I thought of the question, what makes the heart feel for something that it can't
touch----like love, and went from there.
You are the flower that brightens my spring.
You are the summer that warms my soul.
You are the autumn that brings color to my life.
You are the winter that brings calm to my spirit.
You are the inamorata that has renewed my life.
You are my loving wife!
Edward J Ebbs - Valentines Day 2008
My fantasy was spawned from her
Her eyes have drawn me to the Vermillion light
Witnessing the gaze of a glistened perfection
Midst the whirl of Gemini
Bedazzled whirl of Mercury's kindred spirit
Enthralled by the ascending clarity
She douses me with the feeling of luminosity
Wrapped by the robe of lust
Being greeted by the endless forms most beautiful
Captivated by the Vastness of corresponding dreams integrated
A flowing free Swanheart, a constellation seeping allure
Impulse dwelling, vison dwelling by a shook desire
To bide by my own ecstasy of ardor
In my state of reverie I see her alleviating from her attire
I can't help myself, to be driven by a woman of my attraction
Flaunting her soul case, I'm in need of passion
To be an admirer of a visualizing frame
A flame haze takes me
Burning fervently, I can hear her sighs
Hooked by the lace of binding flare
Sweetened aroma from the fairest inamorata
Traced by the crystal grace of thy heart
O body, O mind, O soul
Bending the perfume scented space
Just a bundle thoughts pursuing images of splendor
A revealing view, a window opening reality
Avina Netu is my fantasy
All right, I admit it.
It's hopeless, and I have no shame.
Fact is that I may say what ever I wish,
listen back without a reddened countenance,
shed all compunction, even modesty
if my accoutrement begins to interfere.
Yes, I am smitten; the hours disappear
when we are face to face.
I'm lavish when the passion flows;
heat best serves emotion as it cools.
Manipulation with my fingers only shows
that I'm aware of all the tools
progressive schools of thought may teach
the tender-aged as well as touch
the ones of aged tenderness.
And of my lips?
Well, not so much; they cannot
perfectly express my ardor now.
This autocratic ancient lover finds himself
content to have technology supply
the object of his worldly desire--
this computer is his one and only
paramour, inamorata, fire.
~
My Dearest Carlotta,
my beloved inamorata,
you must be back in Austria,
far away from this dilemma.
I was an Austrian prince.
I let Napoleon convince
myself of greatness.
As an emperor and empress,
we would make great progress.
When you took my hand,
we had a great land.
Believing it all
I ignored his recall.
It led to our downfall.
I was merely a puppet on a string
controlled by a faraway king.
We possessed a title with our name.
However, in lieu of fame,
I have brought us shame.
Little did I know
at the town of Queretaro,
there would be an ignominious defeat
in the searing summer heat.
All my forces crumbled.
I am now in a small cell humbled.
Please hear my plea.
Please forgive me
for my gullibility.
I could not foresee
this fall into ignobility.
We have parted
leaving me broken hearted.
History must take its course.
Juarez shows no remorse.
I now await my demise
at tomorrow’s sunrise.
Your loving husband,
Maximilian
Be My Inamorata
To talk of my righteousness,
Will not path my vivacious affection to you,
but will show my noble amicableness
and that might somehow pierce through your empathy.
Trying to haul your melodic voice that haunts
and meander inside me in sequence eternal,
Leaves me no choice but to
Predict the capacity of LOVE at my disposal.
When you invaded my dreams in haste hustle,
Your dignified persona blinded my integrity
I illusioned cupid’s arrow in my castle,
Your BEAUTY seduced my instincts
Calling me with a heart-shaped whistle,
Pulchritude in its unique portrayal.
Let I telepathically pierce through your soul like an arrow,
Penetrate like a serpent in an route so narrow,
Bury my wits and contemplate my broken heart in sorrow,
For I wish you inject my heart with LOVE till morrow.
I horoscoped my future and saw my destiny in your eyes.
I premonitioned your indulgence generously in amour with me,
I preconceived the feeling you be my inamorata forever...
By Willem Pietersen
With her motherly self
At peace with herself
A flawless expression
Of Mother nature’s rendition
A brimming supernova
She’s still my inamorata
Through to her third trimester
Glowing with carefree laughter
She’s beauty and grace
A delicate, but uncertain face
Yes, she accepts her responsibility
A lioness, this she does diligently
Hormonal maybe, I still love my wife
I've never seen a stronger force of life
She's a sensual life giving soul
I’m indeed a fortunate fool
I don't purpose to ask why
When she breaks down and cry
I let her know it's okay
I love you (both), I care
My heart for you overflows into a waterfall of turbulence
As lady Victoria falls a thousand feet of jubilance
The spark lingers on long after you disappear
My eyes learning to see only when you reappear
Inamorata, you are my guilty pleasure, my only leisure
I indulge in you quietly like an aloof voyageur
Engrossed in the subtle rhythm of the drum
Beating in the gentle choreography of your bum
In your waltz I have found the tempo to my life
Your poise gives purpose to my daily strife
I wish to make you the statue of my liberty
And walk flame in hand through eternity
Will you soon speak to me of thy love, Joan
Tell me that you want me as I want you
Can I endure a callous bile adieu
from thy lips most cerise, soft, tender, sweet,
from those which solely I have ever known.
Let’s share, inamorata, time is fleet.
Twenty cigarette ashes in the ivory ashtray
Symbol of the impatience burned as smoke
The inamorata sits in the pink chaise lounge
Waiting for inamorato arriving to love nest
Photos found under the bed tied off an arguing
Another affair developed without her knowledge
Feeling betrayed, although fidelity was not an asset
Stripped photos and dispersed pieces over the bed
Inamorato opened the bedroom door and screamed
Hidden dalliance loomed as as a storm in the future
Reproaches ended with the rupture of unlawful love
Leaving forever the tormentous and sinful romance
(Fictional)
While bereft of funds I set about
to woo a lass. I had no doubt,
possessed of charm, I could succeed;
kind words and flowers what I'd need.
She's fair of face and warm hearted,
or so it seemed until I'd started
to ply with words and selected posies.
Her interest? Feigned. 'Twas never rosy.
As i soon learned I had mis-thought
inamorata mine. Perhaps she ought
to look behind the cost of gift.
What value could those ardor bereft
e'er place on words, on those who craft?