Eros Poems - Poems about Eros

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...

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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....

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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...

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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...

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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,...

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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....

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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,...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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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These are my modern English translations/interpretations of ancient Greek poems by the immortal Sappho of Lesbos… With my two small arms, how can I think to encircle the sky? —Sappho, fragment 35, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Mother, how can I weave, so overwhelmed by love? —Sappho, fragment 90, loose translation by Michael R. Burch What cannot be swept ——— aside must...

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Do you remember falling in love the very time and place Did you surrender within its bliss showering in its grace Do you remember the harps that played angels in the choir Your last breath taken, heart pounding free —cupid of desire (Dreamsleep: May, 2023)...

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I no longer have any need nor want, my love cannot be bought. I found the mesmerizing god of love my soul had once long sought. I find through telepathy he counters every bad thought....

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He is not surpassed to be active as to the teachings of those who wish to devalue him to create opportunity to acquire and subdue what he has established. She became okay with being the churches whore. She described the burls of the cherry tree as being needed, resin vases often benefit from the stresses of knot. the perfect sealant hardens the soft tree creating a long...

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