Best Mutual Poems
if the person
you love
isn't interested
in what
makes you tick
you're living in delusion
go find
someone
who loves
the person
you are
AP: 2nd place 2021
I climb through dense brambles to hide.
Light flickers to find me,
I don’t feel safe here, and run on.
I’m in a dark house and move back and back through the rooms.
I hear him asking someone if they had seen me.
I curl up tighter into my hidden place under old clothes.
I feel him closer.
I don’t see him.
I run again and find a disconnected darkness.
As I cover myself with leaves,
It all begins to fade,
The darkness, the details, the uneasiness;
I awake, and sit up clearing the cobwebs of the dream out of my sleep.
I reach out for my husband.
He raises to his elbow and touches me.
His sleepy voice says, “Oh good, you’re here —
I’ve been chasing after you,
And no one would tell me where you were.”
indoor grill cooking
preparing all we desire
true mutual joy
THE BREAKFAST OF SCANDAL
Once upon a lofty testament
The blue print of a rhapsodic love furls
Among the two betrothed by a mutual affection.
Their love echoes and here to stay and born.
Their twin love merges to one
By the highly acclaimed folk,
A great éclat from dawn to dusk;
The world transfixed with joy;
Those who could not attain such,
Wish themselves the devil's blow,
And a few carapace of such great virtue;
Their footprint on earth the words of all.
Their matrimonial altar lay upon trust,
They stay in quietude and harmony,
None will one-day dream to dispute them
Or to harmonize their grievances;
They stay like the two eyes that never share a duel;
If all could by a means be like them,
The world forever shall glamour and clamour peace,
They love so much, both at the table
And in the "washing room" helpmeet they are.
Sometimes cited by the arbitrators to their client,
Sometimes a pacesetter to the religiously inclined;
A perfect example to the world around and beyond,
Both the dramatist and the poet their critics they always be.
And the kings sit and take no decision without them.
While the works of men decay,
At the credo of indecision,
The ploughing of scandal overtakes the bedrock of trust.
Her faux-pas display a maximum foolery,
In the eyes of the fire on the cloud,
She burnt their property,
And sent her lover to hell,
And swallowed a knife.
A mystery to the world unraveled,
Each hand on the chin awaiting solace.
The world is borne and grieved;
Ours is to bear and stoically shaved.
The young sapling bowed its head
. . . Humble and shy
Full of his master’s gracious respect
. . . Wishing to reply
You are my mentor and noble lord
. . . Offering the reason why
The gnarled old tree lifted its head
. . . Weary and wise
Fully conscious of his words in reply
. . . Not wishing to surmise
You are my son and loved one
. . . Both reached for the skies
*Round One of an anticipated Twelve Round Bout*
With Special Guest Referee: Pyotr Kropotkin
And Everyone's Favorite Ring Girl: Leo Tolstoi
Postproduction by: Herbert Spencer and Rupert Murdoch
---//---
I'm gonna toss you away
To the crocs someday,
- And that's when I'll say:
"Try surviving through this!"
"Without receiving my aid!"
"If you think you're so 'fit' - Why not try to prove it?!"
I'm sure you're gonna say:
"Bu-bu-bu!"
"But wait! "
"I don't even know the difference between
'Darwin's theories on evolution'
and 'Social Darwinism'!"
- To which I'll likely refrain:
"Yeah-yeah-yeah;
That's what they always claim,
When they have one foot stuck in a mouth
And another foot bound for the grave..."
It’s great to open up your house
To those who take delight
In all the ways you have to make them
Glad for the invite.
For sharing what you’ve worked so hard
To get and make your own
Is a cut above the pleasure you
Experience alone.
A visit, with a snack or meal,
Lets visitor and host
Have some mutual enjoyment;
That’s a better day than most!
Mutual Benefit
Petting doggy
Canines enjoy it
What do we get from it?
Pasty delicacy
demands protection
since succulent
taunts beasts
roaming wilderness
gripped by hunger
until revelation
pivots the victim
aggressive arguing
defensive while
harnessing feral
hungers unwieldy
with megatons
securing leverage
against savage
hidden wandering
enemies disguised
behind amity.
MUTUAL
Wow ! Vow to bow
with determined devotion
on commitment.
Oath meant for both
in dedication ! Action
to implement.
Promise by guys
runs through interaction
for fulfillment.
04\19\ 23
Every night I am willing to please your wildest urge,
giving you kisses when silver moon beams emerge.
What will you give me to keep me from irresistible lust...
when these eyes of mine won't break our mutual trust?
Entered in Tammy Reams's contest,
" Bid On My Love-Couplet Form Only "
Written by Andrew Crisci on 12/8/2015
Reserve
holds love
at arm's length-
submission leans upon
love's strength
Inspired by Ephesians 3:21
Within the time frame of
a few days, I have come
to realize life is not perfect.
If it were, this world would
bore me to death.
Within the same time frame,
I have come to love you even
more.
Is that even possible?
Can you love someone more
and more, each day?
I believe it to be true,
because it continues to
happen to me,
and it makes me all
warm inside,
like a beautiful
summer's night dream.
You wake up and you
cannot help but smile.
For in sixteen days,
I will be able to
explore every possible
reason for loving you,
this much.
Not that I need to;
for I already know.
Exploring though, is the
best part.
Learning, is wonderful.
As I feel closer to you,
each day, to me, is
brand new.
Yet I still know who
you are.
I still know what you
are about.
I still know how you feel.
And I know how much you
love me.
Darling, the feeling is
mutual.
I saw you last week by the river, right?
Oh, I couldn't say.
It was you alright. You were staring up at the sky. You were muttering about the clouds.
Yes, that was me. The clouds trouble me.
Oh, right. They say the end is near.
Sure, sure. Nothing but flat screens from here on out.
What on Earth are flat screens?
No, I said rat screams.
Oh, right. I hate rats. Gnaw at your feet. Pester the off-spring.
(mutters) These clouds will be the death of us...
Say what now?
I'm sorry. I tend to get a little melodramatic in the late afternoon.
I tend to get a little hungry. Especially these days, when everything seems to be dying
around me. I miss the live catch!
I suppose they'll learn from all the left-over bones...
Sorry, who will learn what?
They will learn what happened here.
And what do you think is happening, Cloud Gazer?
Not sure. But whatever it is, it's happening now. Look over there. IPad, by the way.
You...pad?
My name is Pat, I mean.
Oh. I'm Henry. Nice to meet you.
The feeling's mutual.
Where are you headed Pat?
Into history books most likely.
May I join you?
Don't think you have a choice.
We're all dying off, aren't we? Ever since that beam of light in the night's sky last
month, and now this thing with the clouds...we're done for, aren't we?
We had our run, Henry. Now it's time to lay down.
Okay, then. What a shame this all is. (sigh) I'm laying down. Alright, I'm down.
That's it, Henry.
Aren't you gonna lay down with me, Pat?
Naw, I just got up from a nap about an hour ago.
Well, what else is there to do if all we got left is to lay around and wait to die?
I was thinking about going rollerskating.
Really? Me too.
Probably too cloudy though.
Yeah, definitely.
Should probably rest some more.
Probably.
Goodnight, Henry.
Goodnight, Pat.
See ya in a drawing on Facebook.
What?
Nothing. Go to sleep.
Sleep I am going.
The feeling is mutual.
A poem a day is never my way,
sometimes I’ll write nine in a week.
But I feel it’s absurd there is never a word
when my muse has decided to sleep!
She can sleep like a bear and she doesn’t care
if all winter she leaves me alone.
But when she comes back from having her nap
it’s clear that her fantasies roam!
Then most every day she must have her say
and keeps nagging at me all the time.
She won’t go away until I will play
and put all her words into rhyme!
You see it’s my muse who the subject does choose
but in thinking in rhyme she is crap.
We make a good team or so it would seem,
but she never lets me take a nap!
But when all’s said and done it’s really quite fun
and usually worth all the pain.
Though deprived of my sleep I really would weep
if I never could find her again!
When reading my verse remember my curse
though I sign all the work in my name.
It’s the way of the world whatever’s unfurled
that my muse is in charge of the game!
Ivor G Davies