Love Blank Verse Poems | Examples
These Love Blank Verse poems are examples of Blank Verse poems about Love. These are the best examples of Blank Verse Love poems written by international poets.
Love has many shades --
the methods we color our
feelings. Often giving them
faces and names. Times, the
mornings, afternoons and
evenings -- Which are more
the Passionate? Only Love
can decide.
Feeling a bit scaly
and my usual fleet-footed
I followed a lizard
into an evaporating wash --
somehow, all living critters
eventually enter the wash -- the
lizard looking for insects, and the
coyote looking for lizards
and to drink from a puddle
of water -- more like
a thimble full, the sun reclaims
quickly when 120 -- dwellers learn
to conserve, survive on less
in the desert; did not see
one environmentalist though;
probably in a comfy college
dorm, or staff lounge, sipping ice-tea,
writing his or her next hit piece, main
focus on how he or she suffers along with
a greatly abused planet. Gulp, gulp!
Honestly, I prefer the company of lizards,
coyotes, and an occasional rattler -- always
having found the desert far more hospitable
than Arid intellect.
And, so, with the dawn
of a new night, we met
for song and dancing.
Stars are made for wishing...
while suns are dear sources
of life.
There's a beach where the sand
Won't get in your shoes
Or stick to your skin
When you're covered with sweat.
The shore's always clean
No trash or dead fish
And the water's still
Clear enough to drink.
In your mind, I hope and pray,
There's room for me
To kick that sand around
And be with you on your shore.
Ancient poems resurrected and recited
From the murky depths of history,
You hold, against your breast,
The fresh warmth you now perceive.
I tell you tales of my youth
Of day and night, dawn and twilight.
Alive still in my beating, aching heart,
And now held in my hands to reveal.
You ask me to start from within myself
As I recite these vivid scenes.
I feel still, loneliness when you don’t notice
I’ve shared my sacred dreams.
WHEN I LOOKED BACK
WHEN I LOOKED BACK AT IT ALL
ALL I CAN DO WHEN I LOOKED BACK
IS LAUHGED AND LAUGHED
WOW IT FEELS SO GOOD TO LAUGH ABOUT IT ALL
WHEN I LOOKED BACK AT IT ALL
ALL I CAN DO IS LAUGHED AND LAUGHED
DAMN I WAS NAIVE
WHY THE CLOCK WAS TICKING
THINKING YOU COULD CHANGE
THNINKING I COULD CHANGE
THINKING I COULD CHANGE YOU
THINKING YOU COULD CHANGE ME
ALL I CAN DO WHEN I LOOKED BACK
IS LAUHGED AND LAUGHED
ALL I NEEDED TO DO WAS TO SWITCH DIRECTION
TURN THE PAGE AND CREATE THE CHAPTERS
WHY THE CLOCK WAS TICKING
ALL I CAN DO WHEN I LOOKED BACK
IS LAUHG AND LAUGH
I SHIFT MY LIFE
I CREATED MY FUTURE
I LOVE MY LIFE
I FREE MYSELF
ALL I CAN DO WHEN I LOOKED BACK
IS LAUHG AND LAUGH
WOW IF FEELS SO GOOD
ALL I CAN DO WHEN I LOOKED BACK
IS LAUHG AND LAUGH
What is the water of the Bay?
Is it the water that gives life to others?
Is it more than that?
As I look from atop the mountain I see beauty in the bay.
The water around her feet makes her seem like she is walking across the waterline.
As she sings with no one around I hear beauty in her voice.
If only she knew that she had beauty in voice, heart, and vision.
At least I know the truth of her love as I can see the vision of perfection.
Of course, my vision of perfection is when the person does not see themselves as more than humble.
That is the concept of true beauty when they realize that the quality of being humble is beautiful. It is only one concept, but it is the most important.
It is Destiny as her voice sings it proudly!
My beauty isn’t what it appears to be.
Look into my eyes and see—
There’s love, mystery, and more.
“What’s mine” and “what’s ours” are different.
I prefer coffee; you prefer tea.
The heart knows what it wants,
It seeks connection, not heart surgery.
Love, trust, surrender, and peace come in that order.
Love can be confusing and can take away.
Look into my eyes, like a stormy sea revealing
Secrets beneath the waves,
Love, will surrender, and peace will follow
Love is thinner than a piece of cheesecloth,
transparent yet confusing to navigate.
More conservative than a political debate
More hearts are broken than mended
.
I am determined to search globally for an end to this love.
We desire it fiercely and embrace our fate to heal humanity.
Love may be a fleeting remedy,
Yet we pursue it with fervent desire,
Yearning to feel complete.
How many times must love deceive us
How many times must we yearn to feel complete?
How many times will we be let down by this thing called love?
He loves me, or he doesn’t.
I love him, but he chooses to reject my advances.
His heart clearly desires someone else.
Love is a cross that many of us must bear.
It can be a profound and challenging burden to carry.
However, I feel empathy for its victims in relation to what we call love.
Love cannot be controlled or confined
JULY 2023
Hazy, Rampant, Hammering
Foggy-headed, I must be lazy enough to put just the right effort in.
It drips down and stains the pore.
My disease is acidic, fatal,
And the way that your alkali sense draws me in ...
How I'd beg to neutralise once more.
But the ants won't push against my unmoving tyres.
And anywho, isn't this against your morals?
Vivid, Violent, restless still
I'm floating away, I'm just really not lazy enough to notice it.
I'm ruining your favourite dress,
Your uniform for every non-uniform event.
Please don't let me soak you.
Please disappoint me again. Or you could prove there's no shame,
Because either way, at the end of my every walk, I fear that I'll be the same as my love for you when it isn't to see your uncloudy eyes,
But I'm not being lazy enough.
And I'm trying so hard to not try hard,
But I don't think it was ever really enough.
train whistle blues
reflecting my saddest moods
there she blows again
sounds like she’s lost a friend
for what does she lament?
her wail sounds heaven-sent
Is it a who or a lost love?
she sounds fragile as a turtle dove
Upon a grassy hill, so long ago,
our lovely, old Victorian-style home
was built in eighteen eighty-six, aglow
with cozy rooms and firesides burning bright.
So charming were the winding stairs that flared
neath the cathedral ceiling's chandelier.
Outdoors, a rolling lawn and gardens spread
beside a stony brook that rambled on.
A time I still remember- Christmas Day
in nineteen fifty-three- age fourteen then,
and I recall those very special hours
at home, so cozy, warm with my loved ones
of many generations, happily
around the sparkling tree with old-time trim
of bubble lights, glass balls, and Christmas songs
playing softly on the record player.
Extended family- my mom and dad,
grandparents, brother, cousins, uncles, aunts-
spent happy hours, and such a blessed time
was shared as peace and love were felt by all
as I, once the youngest, now the oldest
generation, carry on that spirit
and make traditions last, to someday be
my children and grandchildren’s Christmas past.
," I felt my fingernails digging into his back during a profoundly charged moment. It was striking to see tears streaming down the face of this strong man—he was unguarded! He sighed deeply and reached his climax again and again.
This was not just a display of sportsmanship; it was a clear expression of inner turmoil
A practice kiss with her hand
Misses body, heart
The droplets like her fall —
She amasses their death
Even inside, outside
Let rain go no further.
The mirror copies—
life responds.
Inside a mirror you are frozen.
A stasis oasis.
As if you’ve entered a black hole—
and God took a screenshot.
Paused,
at the last real still frame.
Everything else…A timeless story.
There is something sacred about a mirror world.
And it’s that you remember the light before it was refracted.
Because that echo—
the silent director to your story—
it’s all you’ve really got.
So, reflect it. And it should bounce back.
This is a mirror world after all.