scottie mcperson yesterday
into a tavern seeks a fray
carrying a log
he finds in a bog
instead he meets heather macrae.
I did not ask the stars not to come,
But they did not show up,
For my eyes twinkled enough with my love for you.
I did not ask the moon to do so,
But she drew a rainbow you never looked up to see,
For I painted her craters with my love for you.
I did not ask the tides to fall,
But they held themselves back,
For I had already drowned in my love for you.
The sun dimmed herself, for my love burned brighter
The universe bowed down to my love, yet
My love did not seem enough.
Everyone knew my love for you
Everyone—but you.
My world used to be just physics, playlists, and pitstops.
And then one day, I found myself
cheering for a 43-year-old man in a yellow jersey
Thala Dhoni.
My world was not invaded.
It was cherished.
Cherished by a man
who saw me beyond my marks and medals.
A man not threatened by my brilliance,
but inspired by it.
A man who clapped the loudest
when I won.
A man who became my biggest fan.
A man I love.
With all that I am,
with all that I have.
Just one summer like no other
that is what it was !
You and I across the field
playing like wild children
in the playground of my heart !
Here and there, everywhere
we were
angels soaring o'er daises
un-plucked* breathing *
Rain or shine, we were always together
drenched in sunlight we were poetry
As we lay softly on the
summer grass
the heady scent of flowers clothed us,
even rain could not wash away
the inhale of our innocence,
It was a summer like no other
the summer when we first met ,
To Rose! To Rose! a primitive prose
Your rose, like a rose to my nose
It pricks with thorns, but, on my heart adorns
Till my heart grows and forever glows
To Rose! To Rose! a primitive prose
I'll follow wherever the wind blows
A pleasant breeze, from primitive seas
Swear I'll sail to wherever it goes
Bothersome
The black kitten on my desks bookshelf
In my poetry meditation is small
Only as the poem
Undiscovered
And without
To push the book down
We will not
Only because you stranded me here
All the writing requests
Is simple socks
And travelling coffee's
Yet spectacles bets
Vetting my mystery netting
Tara took me to school
To find her bonnet
Tara Gendron and Kevin
Go to piano
Read Rupi
Rupi
Tic of knock
As sitting drop
In road tin say
Melting kettle lay
Hat and pat
Greatly treasure sap
Long in ago
Settle bets with go
Stepping Foot
The young limb
Clicks out of water
Grasping the dreary weather
Porcupine painful painting it's sun
The mirror of moon
Conquers the files sands
Landing in return of lust
Teaching the fawning shame
Wood plucking a feathers painting
The romance of wind and winter
Iceberg and seal
Feather behind harp
The foot eats the porcelain fingers
Building the painful yawn
Of concerts
The birds chirp invented from a voided life
Alone ousted without sound
Haunting of meaning
The flying fortress is found
To sound is sound and bound by ground
The harpsichord is hidden
In waters snap
Pomegranate
Careful, tentative and delicate tips shiver over the forgiving skin
Shell barring the bloody body of the fruit
Only condemned to,
consumption
Bruising without protest
Its sweetness not asked for - only expected
Though some things are more beautiful broken
Say something
What do you
Want me to say
Expect me to say
Hope I'll say
Expectation holding sway
The words fall short
Of the chasm
We chiseled out
From growing silence
You never smile when I see you
I never frown when I meet your eyes.
It seems to me that our story is over
We meant it when we said goodbye.
In the quiet corners of my mind-
A fuzzy friend named Cubby still resides.
Years ago, when I was three,
He tumbled into my life, so warm and free.
His legs once jiggled, full of beads,
Now gently limp, shaped by years and needs.
Stitches faded, fur rubbed thin,
Yet love, not fabric, holds him in.
Psychology whispers: attachment, security,
But Cubby is more than theory-he's memory's purity.
He's comfort on restless nights,
A silent listener to childhood's frights.
One summer day, a suitcase closed-
Cubby missing, my heart exposed.
Tears spilled all the way back home,
I felt so lost, so all alone.
But surprise! My brother's gentle tease:
He'd tucked Cubby away, aimed to please.
The ache of loss became relief so sweet-
Reunion turning sorrow to heartbeat.
Why do we long for what can't speak?
Why do soft things make us weak?
Perhaps in Cubby, I see a part
Of something gentle in my heart.
He's more than cotton, thread, and fur-
He's childhood's echo, comforter.
Psychology says it's just a phase,
But Cubby's love, it never decays.
Hi everyone
I'm so excited to announce my new album called INVISIBLE
it took years to write and compile these great songs,
there are 10 in total.
Do me a favor please, go to:
johnderekhamilton.bandcamp.com
and give it a listen and please leave a comment
this is very important to me.
Thanks for all of your support.
John Derek Hamilton
September 12,2025
To Mars
My memory came calling
Caught me by surprise
Taking me back to a time gone away
Her hair was dark
Voice a little raspy
The freckles on her nose
Made her unique in her own way
SHE MADE HER MARK
I was black and white
She was grey
But somehow we connected
SHE MADE HER MARK
With every word she spoke
I became infatuated with her
Sense of being
SHE MADE HER MARK
Our time together was only a flash
we started a fire and let it burn
SHE MADE HER MARK
She left like a thief but that
Was her way
I often look back at the path of
My existence
And see her footprints
SHE MADE HER MARK
I comb your shadow hanging on the dream wall
swinging on the dim ceiling
sometimes you grin up there
sometimes you laugh so sweetly in the silence
my fingers are always thirsty, touching your dark jaw
your waving mane
so fragrant in the night air
I will pull a piece of the blanket
letting your shadow crawl to my side
and fall asleep together until dawn erases your shadow
A sketchbook from back then
was stained with abstract colors
like our ten fingers
why didn't we arrange bright colors back then?
black, blue, and white
mixed together without a basis
I remember very well
how the pattern was ultimately
ruined by the darkness
while you labored
on your own sketch
and I only knew a little about that fetish
We grew like shoots
far away from the colors back then
like a line that had been etched
sometimes we disappeared
I still live with bangs on my forehead
exactly the same as back then
and you still like classic cars?
maybe we've only gone a few steps
Count 20, open eyes
ahh, that's just a coincidence
I still scold Wednesday
but you look good
with those stripes
Sometimes you give in
waiting for me to run awkwardly across
you strummed that music
making me confused
guessing your dream last night
but you were far more confused
because you didn't say anything
Do you still remember
the flaw in my eye?
While I was still writing poetry
I seemed to be starting to forget the calm
shape of your Adam's apple
when you drew black lines on our sketch.
Caffeine vapor billows
blowing with the raindrops
the ceiling says
my body wanders
to a part of nowhere
glowing like a warm air
as if it were true
The reflection of the latte under the yellow light
the foam forms a crescent
like the curve of your smiling eyes
Petrichor tonight is so foreign
because only the gentle wind
between your body is familiar to me
I begin to enjoy the thunder
thundering beats
rhythmically
with the same beats
like an album cliché at my fingertips
jumping from time to time
Raindrops intertwined with nostalgia
melancholic rhythm
irony and romance
instantly combined
now flowing away
Specific Types of First Love Poems
Definition | What is First Love in Poetry?
Poems Related to First Love
one and only, cute, baited breath, bated breath, funny, romance, romantic, love, cuddly, sweet love, flowery, special friend,