Eros Poems

Tha 'thela na 'moun English version

I wish I were  one of your breaths, 
So I could flow through your body and fill you up with life
I wish I were a bead of your blood, 
So I could travel through your heart, playful

Oh, to be the moonlight,
So in the nights I could sneak through your window 
or to be the

Tha 'thela na 'moun

Tha 'thela na 'moun mia apo tis anases sou,
wste na rew sto swma sou kai na se gemizw zwh 
Tha 'thela na 'moun mia khlida ap' to aima sou,
gia na mporw na tajideuw sthn kardia sou, zwhrh 

Ax, kai na 'moun to fws you feggariou,
wste tis nyxtes na trypwnw kryfa ap' to parathyro sou
h na

Mi'say Amore

me loving you
is one of those
complicated things
it's all for you
I must give up every thing
Whats to do
love complicates everything
But me for
That's the way it's got to be
that's the way
thats the way it's
got to be
it's love
really love
love complicates everything

Eros

Your intoxicating eros left such an impression on me.
Your most so tender heart makes me want to impassion thee. 
You gave it straight that we may never be, but I want you, baby.

Eros and setting too!

Professor: Setting is inducing trust that as a writer you are not volatile, nor giving lesser detailed thought about those knick knack,  mundane also. can you give me an example Johny?
Johny: Certainly , can I ask the narrator type?
professor: say, camera setting...
Johny : genre?
professor : prose poem, light hearted or serious, both will do.
Johny

I once saw Cupid poop

I once saw Cupid poop behind a tree in a field.
And, boy, was I surprised by the amount of his yield.
And when he was done,
I saw him strapped his quiver of arrows back on
and fly off to make another two one.

is the love enough?

Is love enough,
When there is rain and snow?
The sky is falling, the climate is rough,
Well, I may never know.

So, I asked Eros, hoping he'd know,
He smiled with a prudent glow,
Knowing the answer, ready to show,
He answered in a Socratic flow.

Through the tempest, as snowflakes dance,
Love's resilience, a timeless romance.
In the turmoil of the sky's wild

Eros' Arrow

When Eros shoots the heart of one 
The piercing point of Beauty’s son 
Borne of love and lust and loss 
To pine for one’s a lover’s cost. 

Eros with his quiver filled 
Leaves a trail of hearts he’s killed 
For the one that can resist the bliss 
Is one that Eros’ arrow missed. 

One cannot

Sappho Translations XV

Sappho Translations XV by Michael R. Burch

Gaia, rainbow-crowned, garbs herself in myriad hues. (168c)

We ran like fawns from the symposium: me, Cleis and reckless Gongyla. (168d)

Destiny is from the Muses, / and thus I was destined to leave him / to become / Sappho, Mistress of Song. (168e,f)

Unknowing of evil, I was pure innocence. (171)

Eros,

Our bond

Eros-Philia-Ludus,
Pragma!!!
Valence released,
We are like atomic bonds,
And I am the Squared Hydrogen,
She's the Oxygen.
Held up together in the field,
She breathes life into me.
And liquid as we flow,
Solid we remain just equivalent.

Preposterous Eros

Preposterous Eros
by Michael R. Burch

“Preposterous Eros” – Patricia Falanga

Preposterous Eros shot me in
the buttocks, with a Devilish grin,
spent all my money in a rush
then left my heart effete pink mush.


These are poems about Eros, the Greek god of erotic love, lust, passion and desire. Eros was the equivalent of the Roman love god Cupid. 


Sappho,

Draw Add Wet View

   Blossoms line my laden descent 
down to the perked watering hole 
that plays empty theater, 
awaiting my creative path, 
a royal welcome -
represented by accumed variety and presumed clarity, 
of intentional therapy of renewed sensable youth. 

Periscope complicity is channeled by heart's stereoscopicity, 
Dryad/Satyr Satire, no dry ads, only wet views.

Season facets

Unlikely Mike, for Michael Jackson

Unlikely Mike
by Michael R. Burch

I married someone else’s fantasy;
she admired me despite my mutilations.

I loved her for her heart’s sake, and for mine.
I hid my face and changed its connotations.

And in the dark I danced—slight, Chaplinesque—
a metaphor myself. How could they know,

the undiscerning ones, that in the glow
of spotlights, sometimes love becomes burlesque?

Disfigured to my

Cupid Unkind

Love,
The emotion
From eternity to eternity
Touches humans
Giving serenity,
The ones in love
Forever fortuitous
To be singing
Life's glorious song,
A dance of
Tango
Between two
Sublime souls
Lost in the throes
Of immortal love;
Those upon whom
Cupid
Is unkind
And failed to strike
With his magical 
Arrow
Must remain
Sentenced
To a life of
Degenerate
Solitude,
A life of 
Unfulfilled dreams,
And missed bliss;
Deep in the ocean
Of emotion,
Lies their sunken ship
Of love
Perched precariously
On a submerged
Precipice under
The

Eros

Your golden arrows pierced my heart
Is this a curse or an answer to my pleas? 
Maybe this is amusing to you, turning me into Echo
Laughing at me from above, as I repeat sweet praises to him
Watching him from afar
Knowing that if I take one more step further, our world will collapse

Why did you do this

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