Best Lifelove Poems
One day after years of searching
for that missing link
he came along, without warning
he meddled with the barricades
I build...
The things I used to protect myself,
fragile me, all exposed
and yet
the steps we took healed us both...
Not realizing that every day
our dependence on others
for validation were being cut away
not knowing we were on a journey
of discovery of who we are
without faceless crowds
dictating our behavior...
I've learned to love myself
I've learned to love others again
without the fear of losing them,
I've learned to be happy
without being afraid
that something sinister might happen
we've grown together
and we have grown apart
but we are always in each other’s hearts
Even though we're miles apart
our paths have been cemented...
Connections remain even distance can't separate...
It's a friendship
you don't ask questions about
it’s a friendship you nurture.
Not because you are forced to,
But because it’s the one thing
That has kept us centered
and made me embrace
who I really am…
I will always be thankful for you…
Contest Name : “The Right Time”
By : Wilma N. Neels
Dedicated to B
020720111955
Contest: The Right Time
1st Place
Loss carried with strength.
Loss that goes on through out his life.
He will never put it down..
It lingers like her perfume.
A fine heart, important to his friends.
Able to write words that grab the soul
And wont let go.
A sense of humor..a word or phrase
That brings a smile and lightens
The load for a moment.
A man with a gift for teaching
his craft. Gaining respect, admiration
And love from his students.
Pride in knowing that he is more than a friend
And that he has gained the respect of his peers
here on the soup.
It’s easy to love H. Garvey Daniel, Esquire.
Alive today, in this time, undeserving, yet, I am blessed…
By His divine mercy
By His eternal love
With a resolute faith
With a loving family
With special friends – a few
With hands yearning to heal
With a gift of verse -sometimes
With a gift of stitching - therapeutic
With a spirit for sharing
With a penchant for nature – no reptiles
With a special love for roses
With a beautiful smile that welcomes
With great fondness for the sea shore
With an incredible love for books and music
With a heart that loves unconditionally
With eyes that still see some good
For all these things-everything and
More!
*Note: For Dane-Ann's "Count Your Blessings" Contest
I
A spark is shot
Deftly, from between two fingers.
It sits, wavering on its bed
Like a lone star
Against the black,
Cold coals.
Chuckling, a candle flame shows
Its little golden head.
Sleepily, it reaches for its mother
And she, flickering, crackles her tongue
As the scorching hand upon her breast grows
And spreads.
Curious and hungry,
flamma explorat.
II
A fire is mature, suddenly
Superior. Its arms extend,
It works, briskly it burns.
Like a tiger
It inhabits its cage.
Laughing, a blaze rises
To greet a brittle friend.
For another
And another
Blaze yearns.
Alas! Any tears would hiss
If the glowing cheeks reminisced a kiss.
It is Love The Fuel on which its life depends.
Selfish and beautiful,
flamma vivat!
III
The embers sift, tenderly
Nursing the staggering
Foolish old flame
Who must be coaxed to nibble and feed.
No light livens the hearth, haunted now,
Merely shadows.
In faded fame, amidst dusty fortune
The patient lies.
And it ponders as all its dazzle dies
Who taught me to hate?
Was it lack of love or lack of life
That finally dampened my fanciful play?
Slowly,
Painfully,
The gargoyle face is smothered in ash,
The soft powder of its parents fate.
And death waits
Eerily
Still
Until another is born in the grate.
Tired and lonely,
flamma extinguet.
I think that we forget how to be human, after awhile.
Our feelings harden, due to the other non human beings who cause us to build
walls. These walls tend to keep out the actual humans who, just maybe, love us.
The innocent who, just maybe, love us are also hardened because of the
inhumane treatment put on upon by the first party.
In conclusion: This goes around and around and around. Humans causing each
other to hate, fear, and harden.
The cloudscape changes
and floods excited crowds of sunlight
on a patch of playful sea,
turning fat green hills
into toyful bumping buses.
The wind turns her back,
shows me her cold white legs,
striding away.
The land is blackgreen,
the sky is dark coffee;
there is no exit sign.
She rips open the sky, the wind,
with a naughty laugh,
she breathes sea sand through my hair.
I do love you after all, she sings softly;
old apricot flavoured philosopher,
you ancient jingly bag of thoughts.
I love you
even though I cannot take you
yet
I know that God is the master and all knowing
and with this gift of life,
he gave me you without showing
me how to handle all the love
and feelings thats included
i spend my days trying to show my love;
and work on how to prove it
its been a challenge keeping you to myself
cause other women see what their missing
and you don't have the strength just yet
to be flattered from a distance
your charm and grace has been misplaced,
it should be mine and mine alone
and marriage is a scary place
when the trust is completely gone
the choice is mine for the first time
i feel that love is not enough
i need more from you cause time has proven
temptation can call your bluff
so ask yourself if this is what you want
and please make a commitment
today's the day just ask yourself
if you have any resentment
for the woman you say you love
and choose not to be without
time will not wait you must escape
if you have any doubt
The voices matter not
what they might say..
Please, toss the scorn and names aside
For, who can say, who has the right
To be the one, who will decide
Who can love...or who is a man?
~
There was a man of whom I speak
So like a rose, with gentle hands
A butterfly, alone,
could safely light upon his palm
and want to stay.
This man could love a poem
Could kiss a baby, could love a song,
and still be big and strong
He could hear the music, and weep a tear
just because of beauty, heard
He made a difference, with kindness done
until his journey over, and he was gone
A stronger man?....there was none
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I have watched the sun pour fire
into a glistening lake
I have heard a miracle born
as mornings line did break
I have seen a thousand angels
living in this world
I have survived as feeble cries
were ignored and never heard
but it was when your gentle hand
caressed my rivers bed,
shooting for the spiritual
I couldn’t care if i was dead
brushing off the peelings
of dread and helplessness,
holding on for sobs
to stop breaking in my chest
kaleidoscopes of love
are thrashing through my veins,
filling every capillary
and adrenaline’s attained
for all that I had searched
it was buried deep inside
and now that its unearthed
I know I can survive
all through the fights and conflicts
as life and love have crossed,
I always felt alone
and sometimes thought I lost
but now with love of life
my shield and spear do shine,
and I stroll onto this lonely road
but all our steps are still in time
I’ll see you in the summer
as white roses bloom again,
and a stream of fire will flow
from the ink within my pen
I sit in your webb of destruction waiting
waiting for the bite that will be suffocating
turning my love into death
as the spider takes his last dying breath,
Toxic love, the only love I know
smack in the fsce was the way I was shown
Go to your room and disappear
stop that crying right this moment did you not here?
As I sit in this webb of toxic loneliness
I make my final dying wish
to take this one risk
and let someone know i did exist.
Debbie Wagoner 5/27/10
I can be...
HAPPY
ANNOYED
SAD
ANGRY
HORNY
LONLEY
HUNGRY
Happy when my check direct deposits every friday
Money talks more than love does sometimes.
I'll be happy when love evetually does land
in my lap. As of right now I'm in the pursuit of it....
Annoyed when people don't understand me.
When they tell me just give it sometime.
Annoyed when my heart doesn't listen
to my brain and my brain doesn't listen to
my reproductive system.
Sad when I think about being alone.
Even sadder knowing that I would never settle.
Hoping that I don't end up alone with two cats.
I cry because of the pain of being hurt.
I don't trust anyone to not do that deed.
What is a beating hurt if it does not bleed?
Horny almost everyday. Relief comes in cycles.
The problem is that it couldn't just be anyone
I lay down with. Just like it couldn't be just anyone
that I kiss. When I choose, I make love over and over
again to that one person. Learning each inch, finding new surprises
along the way. Damn I'm horny.
Lonley because I don't want to be alone. I don't think anybody does.
Most times my sadness comes from late nights and just me and
my thoughts wishing I was lying in bed with someone.
Hungry. I'm hungry for life like crazy. I'd bite the whole world
up if I could. My cravings, needs, desires and goals are all wrapped up
like a snack wrap. I lick my lips, and taste everything....
Identical Twins
Time is passing
Life is fleeting
We will all be memories
Some day
We bid them farewell
Those we have known
With no compensation
For broken hearts
Each life has known us
Though we are strangers
Your eyes are so similar
To those I loved
But you are leaving
As I am expiring
We are remembering
The faces lost
I did not know you
You do not know me
Identical twins we
Of diverging lives
Each love we have known
No different from those
Exquisite beauties
We held in each other’s hands
I don’t know why
You can’t see, you are me
The same reflection
On an alternate page
Just as much passion
No less the grief
Our tears are counted
By our hearts beat
Part of the ocean
Our love is remembered
Part of the ocean
Of humanity
Time is fleeting
Life is passing
We will all be memories
Some day
The Poem Neruda Did Not Write
(Ode to Pablo Neruda)
Hello, Pablo, nice to see you are here!
Not feeding the Bird? at A Lemon grove
that hums A Song of Despair, which appear
to be From--Twenty Poems of Love
that were forever Lost in the forest...
of Nothing But Death, where a Tower Of
Light has not been, and never been, at best
Leaning Into The Afternoons of life,
nor In My Sky At Twilight when I rest.
Like you, Fleas interest me so much... than wife
who From The Book of Questions seeks the Love
of Some Beasts or The Dictators who knife
the Cat’s Dream? The dreams, ah dreams that speak of
dreams! Us; We Are Many, Walking Around
by Your feet, by Your Laughter. Oh, yes! Oft
I like your hat that speaks, to me, of crown
and your coat, covering Clenched Soul of prose
that’s Drunk as Drunk like Enigmas of dawn,
but you know, I prefer you, much because...
Hmm, I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair
and I Do Not Love You Except Because
I Love You, my Brown and Agile Child, heir
to sacred Canto XII from the Heights of
Macchu Picchu, where your speech filled the air.
And what is now? A Dog Has Died, your Love,
but why The Weary One?...still, The Light Wraps You!
Eyelids heavy with memories
Cover lights and shadows of a hospital in ruins.
A baby with grown-up fingers
Reads the past in Braille
Barely touching the meaning of broken cobblestone streets of her past.
Her fingertips retract like eyes of snails back into the present
Where handsome men - immoral in their animalism -
try to understand LOVE for the very first time.
Great White sharks kill tri-athletes and place them in immortality
as writers reach the end of the journey frustrated by their lack of gills ...
The torrid yellow burden rolls down incinerated crystals between her breasts
She senses people as zigzags with burglarized drawers
rhythmically roaming up and down the Riviera...
The ocean breeze murmurs: “ Michelle, my belle...”, “ I love, I love you, I looove you...”
Invading her nostrils with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee
and the smell of barbeque that, once she could digest.
The sun drops gold coins into the turquoise as they ricochet into her degenerating eyes.
I see myself in her from the above as unscrupulous tides rip open our sandy abdomen
Violently sucking my body's sand sculpture back to the undertow.
It's almost dusk and seagulls fly through me to a secret shelter I wish I had...
I'm scared to fall asleep as I might wake up without wings
while numbness's taking over my bleeding shoulder blades...
"The body of a peddler with broken clocks on sale
was found tonight
on the landing pad of a hospital in ruins"
for Deb's contest "Real, UNreal or SURreal "
Sometimes I just feel picture-perfect
like flowers that stay blue
even if they can't reflect the ocean.
and I want to serenade the firmament
and resound myself to the air with silence like growing,
and sink tendrils, feasting off the sun in whisper-spirals of
photosynthesis and simple love like
eyelash to eyelash.
When you're small, spinning
around in circles feels like magic, with
wind webbing your fingers and flowers in your hair,
wild as anarchy over your unfurled shoulder-blades.
Tears don't always mean sadness
when you find them on your nose and realize it's
storm-song brushing your soul.
This time I was running under cathedral-clouds
draped in sistine light on the edges, and curling.
Sorrow and love are always spat through each other,
until they spark, flinting through my waterlogged eyes.
I just saw myself in a mirror and turned it inside-out
and around to escape me.
Does ugly under rain become beautiful?
What I see in puddles doesn't hurt me,
but I still like to shatter them, see-through
pottery running on my legs and then I slip
until my jeans are soaked with everything but blood.
I am anything but simple.
Rain is anything but cleansing.
Faith is anywhere but here, where I need it most.
I lift my chin and sing to the sky that offers no
release and no recompense, hoarse
and battered, and interrupted as I am by the weather.
Because sometimes
picture-perfect doesn't fit me. Sometimes
drenched hoodies, sodden denim, pale
melancholy faces up-turned and
chains around my ankles rising
from the star-spattered dust like a phoenix
define my existence.