First Poems - Poems about First

She held the sky in her hand to unveil the first morning blue and trembling like love before its name. He tried to catch a glimpse of her, to unveil a closeness near soft and golden like warmth before it learns to appear. Orchards of fruits obscured the gaze leaves hung like listening skin So, desire plucked them like want before it learns to begin. Peaches began...

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It scarce starts as a well-formed line, With fuzzy thoughts how so genuine, All along you feel tense As if under sentence, A strange itch not of skin In time gets somewhat mean Whilst fuzzy thoughts get a new shine, Words vie to form, play bin, Show some rare discipline, Though tad twisted, make a good twine. Most poems born are much like this-- From chaos,...

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Living under the influence of a lifestyle so exotic, wrapped up in appearance. An unrequited luxury, I am the fire not the smoke show. Inspired on a budget. The purity of an orchid, that magic lies in hard to grow. You have the only one. Such a lovely fragrant flower, Italy’s perfect cannoli, rich enough for my blood. No cash but I’ve...

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I'm missing you all over again And it's not because you gave me hope It's not because I love you more now I miss you every day, especially at night And it's because I gave myself hope Because I saw you, now I see you everywhere ...

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I lift my eyes from the place of my struggle, From the dark corners where battles rage unseen. My help comes from the Lord, Maker of heaven, earth, and the depths of my heart. Lust has destroyed more than wine ever could It cloaks itself in pleasure, But its bite is sharper than steel. It kisses the lips, then devours the soul. It...

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Will things ever go back to the way they were? I took for granted those smiles, those laughs and now I don’t see them anymore. How do I undo what’s already done? Did I let go of your hand somewhere along the way, or were you gone before I even knew? Your voice sounds different now does it mean you’ve fallen out...

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You told me it wasn’t too late that I could still mend the cracks. But it feels like I’ve been losing you long before the truth escaped your lips. Only God is my ally now, and to Him I surrender everything, so I can have your love back again. How did I become your misery? How did my words turn empty? How did I become…...

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Today I learned that being me always here for you, always yours in intimacy was never enough. I did not give you the peace your soul was searching for. It shatters my heart… how did we come to this? I learned today you were looking for comfort in someone else’s words, and all this time I thought I was your world. Have I taken you for granted? Was it my...

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I loved loud. Not in volume — in intensity. In showing up. In remembering the little things you forgot you ever said. In texts at 2am because I couldn’t sleep without making sure you were okay. I loved in playlists. In forehead kisses. In “did you eat today?” and “text me when you get home.” I loved...

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We two chose a night out on our first date joining street Carnival on procession. All were in festive mood to celebrate from some...

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As I awoke, eyes still laden, dreaming of a pretty maiden. Laying quietly, still in my bed. It was real not just in my head. As the light streaked through the window, heart beating like a crescendo. I felt the joy of love at last, in this love, I’ll willingly bask. The sharing, caring, and daring. The glancing and trance like starring. The thought came...

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To you I write This tender verse My dearest Lover at first glance. I was no believer In love struck on sight Calling it mere heat Not heart. But you changed that. Words may fade Ink may dry Even the sky may lose its blue But with you, I feel whole. So I write With ink steeped in longing Softly asking For your hand, if you're willing....

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In tennis, Love means nothing. Off the court, It’s everything.   Tennis and love start the same— Your pulse quickens, hands shake. Your first high school match, You lose the opening service game to love. You would’ve felt less gutted Had your opponent eviscerated you.   Tennis is a game Of little lives and quiet deaths, Each break point converted, electric— Every winner a shock to the heart. The points lost...

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First Steps Funerals and Nana's Hands By Evelyn Aimarie 2 days after my Nana's funeral My oldest son took his first steps. She was my grandmother on my father's side, but more like a mother to me. Palms textured like warm overwashed cotton sheets- thin but comfortable, and clothes line, spring sunshine soft. Pastel blue intricate barely visible veins whispered...

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Have you heard the one about the birds and the bees? I never much liked it myself, because it soured the taste of our innocence. Or maybe our innocence soured the taste of us. So much for happy endings, and so much for love. So much for innocence, and so much for us. You’re an old slow dance. You’re an old song. And if I’m being honest— I still think back to that time I...

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