Constance Canstinople had connubial concentration
Every date was a grilling, not a joyful celebration.
She spoke of having children with men she barely knew
She stayed single all of her years until she died at ninety-two.
All she wanted was marriage, her nephews and nieces said.
Too bad that she never got to wear her veils and now she’s dead.
But we can reap the benefits of the wedding gowns she collected.
Full of pearls, sequins and lace, beautiful when inspected.
Constance had been too pushy, but she would be better next time.
This is what she said to her main guardian angel Clementine.
Clementine hoped for the best and sent her back as a baby girl.
On her spank she thought “satin dresses and on each a big pearl!”
Tongue touched,
a diaphanous zephyr of ephemeral desire,
rustles the parchment of our sepulchral scripture,
where our connubial covenant is inscribed,
in the cryptographic ledger of the damned,
and the whispers of the ancients,
echo through the labyrinthine corridors,
of the underworld.
Your lips,
a vermilion velvet of hyperemic passion,
anoint our union with the haematoid blood of Elysium,
consecrating our entwined destinies,
within the cryptic cenotaph of the heart,
where the lethiferous weights of existence,
hang precariously in the balance.
Together,
we waltz,
hand in hand,
through the tenebrous tapestry of Chronos,
our love an ephemeral eclipse of solipsism.
In this eternal,
ephemeral dance,
we are the cryptic ciphers of the nocturnal,
our love a funeral pyre that illuminates the desolate,
luminous landscape of the Chthonic River of Styx.
Written: September 09, 2023
_____________________________________________________________
In the sphere of exuberance and delight.
Places where relationships provide insight.
There's a sweetness in the mellowness.
Emotion embellished without devilishness
Intoxication of perpetual bliss,
Unceasing happiness, a blessed kiss
Of goodness and joyfulness combined,
In connubial union, two souls entwined.
A love unending, forever blessed,
In the sacred vows, they have professed.
In this realm of unending delight,
Rapture and felicity bear flight.
Everlastingly, it shall be,
A nirvana of love for all to foresee.
Ageless and eternal, their love shall be,
A pleasantry of ecstasy and glee.
In the realm of geniality and cheer,
Their compatibility shines clear.
Exuberance and joy cram the air,
As their love blossoms beyond compare.
With evermore beatitude they reside,
In married bliss, they cannot hide.
Congeniality and blissfulness abound,
As they create their own paradise found.
In the realm of amenity and peace,
Their love shall never cease.
Eternal and heavenly, their bond will be,
Committed bliss for eternity.
Of all the mammals I could be
I select marsupial
'Cos as I watch them, seems to me
They're all connubial and fiducial
The biggest mockery of what couples have one other told,
Impressing a play acting, very bold
To conceal some sure, future bickering
From a supportive solemn gathering.
Spouses once dying to see each other’s nudity
Now abhor each other’s faces,
The other one an outright oddity
That looks a bit tolerable behind laces…
A time Satan proves himself more profound
Than his shallow critics could ever imagine,
Himself taking as duty-bound
To install between partners the widest margin.
It’s an interrupted journey on the marital highway,
A keeping of a connubial affair at bay:
A once blossoming cooperation
Giving way to life-long separation.
Divorce, the fullest licence gives to either party
To openly crush one’s lips against a new Sweetie’s,
Even with one’s Ex embarrassingly nearby;
An asking of “Hot Tears” to stand by.
O COVID with the MO-VID, you murder bug,
Your sweet quarantine champions my gloom.
Never the buff of a handshake or hug,
Serene in the still of my fond hermit room,
Blessed detention, the liberty of walls;
And though this woe suffers me to talk
To those within these connubial halls,
Exposing my hokum, I say Fie to the Pock,
And mop my **** on duplicitous reams
Of Scotts fair ply, though I’m uncertain why
I stalk the isles in this squirreling dream
Most grateful to shop, most willing to buy
What I do not know: what this mad old bastard
Needs from his truth, and what happens after.
( updated today Jul 22 2026)
Near Love's jasmines breeds
the weeds of jeopardy
Attitude threatens the petals
Stable and sweet one moment
Miserable the next,
Inner insecurities prickle
Nitpicking on trivialities
Ecstasy of passion yet resets
I fall for amorous lap
Yet my heart still bleeds
in a silent chorus
My heartstrings the choir
with guitar strings
The thorns of roses prick
Nuptial jasmine leigh withers,
every thundererous weather
But always regrows
in connubial bowers
and love's spring showers
The chorus a poet bleeds
in ink and quill...
Tears of joy and sadness...
In Aussie-land dwell the marsupials
By night they paint the town connubial
They make them a joey
Named Zoey or Chloe
Neighbors jump for joy indubitable
The strain of separation leaves a sore,
sorrow abides and festers in the heart;
two star-crossed lovers smitten to the core,
despairing of the days they'll spend apart.
Spirit, soul and testament they share,
blind to worldly consequences, broken
by the distance in between, for where'er
their footsteps fall each retains a token.
Two rings confirm a union true and bold;
connubial bliss that will not e'er be stilled
though time and tide would try to break the mold,
a fire undying, passion unfulfilled.
The day will shortly dawn to soothe the strain,
and end their bleak despondency and pain.
The strain of separation leaves a sore,
sorrow abides and festers in the heart;
two star-cross'd lovers smitten to the core,
despairing of the days they'll spend apart.
Spirit, soul and testament they share,
blind to worldly consequences, broken
by the distance in between, for where'er
their footsteps fall each retains a token.
Two rings confirm a union true and bold;
connubial bliss that will not e'er be still'd
though time and tide would try to break the mold,
a fire undying, passion unfulfilled.
The day will shortly dawn to soothe the strain,
and end their bleak despondency and pain.
The strain of separation leaves a sore,
sorrow abides and festers in the heart;
two star-cross'd lovers smitten to the core,
despairing of the days they'll spend apart.
Spirit, soul and testament they share,
blind to worldly consequences, broken
by the distance in between, for where'er
their footsteps fall each retains a token.
Two rings confirm a union true and bold;
connubial bliss that will not e'er be still'd
though time and tide would try to break the mold,
a fire undying, passion unfulfill'd.
The day will shortly dawn when they will see
an end to their despondency and pain;
two star-bless'd sweethearts who'll for ever be
conjoined together, ne'er to part again.
The strain of separation leaves a sore,
sorrow abides and festers in the heart;
two star-cross'd lovers smitten to the core,
despairing of the days they'll spend apart.
Spirit, soul and testament they share,
blind to worldly consequences, broken
by the distance in between, for where'er
their footsteps fall each retains a token.
Two rings confirm a union true and bold;
connubial bliss that will not e'er be still'd
though time and tide would try to break the mold,
a fire undying, passion unfulfilled.
The day will shortly dawn to soothe the strain,
and end their bleak despondency and pain.
To dampen essence is joy unknown.
As a couple, we have united our spirits to
manifest our souls fulfilling our
emotions as integral parts.
Lovers’ spirits amalgamated.
Your depth has fused.
This love affair will intensify.
We are users of lover’s lair and
abusers of the time we have.
We are brought sense not borrowed.
We take chances not risks.
If we fail, we knew we probably would.
Let us gamble on love and our existence.
This is just a love poem.
An odd that has its forewarning
that our life is meant to each other.
The omens are worthy.
Conjugal…connubial
__________________|
Penned April 27, 2014!
I am married to an ordinary woman with an extraordinary talent
She has an in-built reverse-forward button, others tend to be mute
When in good humor forward is on, in bad humor reverse is on
A Lady Hamlet with no dilemma, to be or not to be- question is off.
There’s always forward for outings, if it’s missed a reverse ever
Make an adverse remark and will unlearn the meaning of favor
But fortunately always get forward button in things conjugal
Disappointed in things many, happy to get things connubial.
Once we’re at a party and her sister looked at her wedding ring
Her sister pointed out that she wore the ring not on the right finger
She replied that she’s right, because she married a wrong man
She looked at me but I have learnt to be silent from the talkative.
In case she finds out that I have been cross with some people
She is tempted to make my enemies her nearer friends
As impractical husband learnt useful lesson from practical wife
Keep the friends close but keep your enemies not far than friends
+++
Date 21-11-13
Dr. Ram Mehta
Sixth Place win in
Contest juxtaposed by Sheri
The strain of separation leaves a sore,
sorrow abides and festers in the heart;
two star-cross'd lovers smitten to the core,
despairing of the days they'll spend apart.
Spirit, soul and testament they share,
blind to worldly consequences, broken
by the distance in between, for where'er
their footsteps fall each retains a token.
Two rings confirm a union true and bold;
connubial bliss that will not e'er be still'd
though time and tide would try to break the mold,
a fire undying, passion unfulfill'd.
The day will shortly dawn to soothe the strain,
and end their bleak despondency and pain.
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