Long Strange love Poems
Long Strange love Poems. Below are the most popular long Strange love by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Strange love poems by poem length and keyword.
In a strange way, this love cannot be named or understood.
It’s sacred yet resisting of all rational reasoning and integrity.
A love that is so pure with an intense spiritual connection of my soul with your soul.
A love of minds from opposite sex, yet free and unmixed with carnal desire but bonded with a burning passion.
You gave me your naked body and in return I gave you my naked soul.
We both gave each other our vulnerability and trust but I gave you wholehearted, fierce depth of my heart.
I shared with you my deepest, darkest inner thoughts and you maintained control and held your emotions close to your chest.
At times I felt your yearning for my time and my interactions too.
This love is free from desire of sexual union but I yearn to sleep close to you to smell your body scent to knock me out of insomnia.
I undressed my thoughts to you and appreciated your naked body in an artistic way.
I made love to your consciousness and mind which you will never know about.
I felt orgasmic force through our submerging intimate conversations.
Intrusive thoughts don’t leave my mind day or night that is the reason for my farewell.
I am strong but you become my weakness.
Underneath our platonic love lies a mystical passion beyond my understanding.
No complexities lie in my heart now but certain clarity that this love is a connection of my soul and mind. I am glad to have experienced it, only a very few are privileged of a bizarre intoxication aspect of love.
Skulls And Thorns
The darkness is cold.
Hold your hand and be bold.
Take me with you.
Sense of touch wherever you go.
From the grave to the sky.
Together, I feel alive.
You are beyond elegant.
Stand with you in darkness.
Watch the candle lights dance.
You are my match.
Light the sky on fire.
You're the one I desire.
You are mesmerizing.
Fly past the horizon.
A place with many dark shades.
Our shadows follow us on the way.
The night is ours.
I give you purple flowers.
We are creatures of the night.
Skulls and Thorns, a poem, live or die.
This is our path.
Strange love that will last.
We creep into the unknown.
Stand side by side facing the red sun.
He couldn’t recall an event
Or a time or even a place
Somehow he knew he knew
That approaching smiling face.
A night of flowing drinks
A night of many toasts
A night of copious alcohol
Supplied by generous hosts
A night of drunken wandering
Strange street intersections
Of turning left instead of right
A night off wrong directions.
Welcoming arms
To his surprise
To be replaced
By moans and sighs.
Coming suddenly awake in
A strange love wrecked bed
A fast emerging hangover
Pounding through his head.
Not his house
Not his room
An awful sense of
Impending doom.
The act of quietly dressing
To creep down a strange stair
Unobserved she watched him
Emerge into crisp morning air.
A night of unbridled passion
Of giving and taking
A night of unexpected and
Passionate love making
Silently she’d watched the stranger
As he disappeared from her sight
Contentedly musing on those
Ships that pass in the night.
Now he’d returned her smile
Though not knowing why
And the moment was gone
As they passed each other by.
Can you see it's Me?
Baby, through the water
in the breeze. Behind the shade
of the trees waiting, for You?
Can you see? How it's true?
Feel me hear.in your wind,
Rolling around through the sheets again.
Memory, in my brain recalls
A strange love song
Singing through my walls.
It's You, after all.
Baby, through the water
in the breeze. Does the sound
of my mind, bring you ease?
Love can you see, how it's true?
Memory, in my brain recalls
StrangeLove songs
Singing through my walls...
"...honey wake up...
you're dreaming again"
Stop! It's the Monk!
Through the Look of my Pen!...
Hey You.
It's Me, after all.
Honest.Love.
Is what my heart recalls.
Form:
Gutters of grey garden breathe in.
Roses, ashpale, rain on armor.
Eclipsed laughter dances, unlicensed.
Yokes rattle; she twirls anyway.
Vesper shadows play at her ankles.
Oaths fail; her rhythm does not.
In cells within cells, she sings.
Dread watches; she pirouettes through it.
She: lovely, intrigue stitched in light.
Laughter bites sweet, then vanishes.
Under her ribs, a wild meadow.
Grief cannot fence that bright.
Gleaming, her slug friend glides nightly.
“Some call you slimy,” she winks.
Love is strange; love is best.
In this waltz, we survive.
Strange Love
Love Is Such a Strange Thing
Not Understood by Many
It's a Giving and a Sharing
And it Doesn't Cost a Penny
You Can't Buy it with a Fortune
Or Demand That it Be Yours
You Can Search the World over
But It's Not for Sale in Stores
Some Say It's in the Heart
Others Say It's in the Mind
It Doesn't Matter What They Say
Love Is Hard to Find
When You Finally Find Love
There Is Something You Discover
You're Never Ever Quite the Same
You Just Don't Recover
The Shock Is Quite Electric
You're Not in Your Natural State
You Know You've Lost Your Mind
And Your Heart Has Learned its Fate
Love Is Such a Strange Thing
So Many Understand
But it Costs So Very Much
More than Money in Your Hand
When Your Heart Is Broken
There Is No Place to Heal
You Have No Where to Turn
And the Pain Is Much Too Real
So If You've Finally Found Love
Guard it with Great Care
It Was Freely Given
To Lose it Makes Life …..
Very Hard to Bear
Connie Moore
we are not the one opposed to strange love,
we live in a world of same sex weddings,
but a fish eagle’s romance with a dove,
would be a thing of tabloid news headings!
What about park bench with frog and a snake?
cuddling like teens with lips locked in a kiss?
you would perhaps say it is a mistake,
potential meal in romance with a hiss!
If animal kingdom adapted our rules,
You may see a fox in date with rabbit,
or mares trying to impress handsome mules,
or a zebra and lion co-habit!
would be politically incorrect,
to even denounce cross species romance,
species will emerge that will look suspect,
you can’t identity with single glance!
It is hard to say what lies in future,
for now animals follow the gene code,
so please let it be, not tutor nature,
or else a cobra may look like a toad!
Written 26/11/2020
to oppose human experiments at creating creatures that nature did not plan to create, causing much hardship to them in the name of science!
The crimson fluid drops,
Pumped from his wounded heart.
From His side, palms, and feet,
The blood crawls on the cross,
And clears the scars of sin;
And frees the heart from guilt.
On the cross, his arms open wide,
Inviting me for a warm hug.
But the face is marred, badly bruised;
His body sweats blood and water.
His hands ache, hanging from the wood;
And the wood firm, stuck to the earth.
His form is gone. Scarring!
Scared by the pain; the peace
On a face gripped by love.
Though love is harsh on him,
But saves me from the death.
Strange to love; or be loved!
Shame and pain he bears for the world
As he’s nailed for sin on the cross.
God, the father's pleased with his death,
For by it, his true love will blaze;
And the world might find in Jesus,
A friend that gave his all for all.
(John 15:13)
Copyright © 2014
Walking main street in Autumnal sunshine
a donkey stops to look at a wolf.
After a mutual gaze they stroll together.
So far, not a word has been said between them.
Words are tricky, they are largely spaces
bookending secrets.
They will have to hide their true natures,
become lost in the running legs of the crowd.
However they must mate with words first,
but what words?
He prefers straw sounds full of drunken sunsets.
She is a predator, she wants fat
edible baby words full of juice.
His soul is a rusty windmill,
her soul it is an ever-spinning dolls head,
it is always hungry, always wanting.
They both commence to speak at once.
Passerby’s are startled at the sounds they make,
yet they smile knowing that young love
between different species will prevail,
even when words fail.
You ask me to forgive you.
You ask me to excuse the hurt you caused,
the emotional injury you inflicted,
and the scars that won't heal.
You ask me to accept apologies.
You want to hug my bruised memories
and caress my pummelled spirit,
to impart some platitude.
You ask me to find it in my heart
to love you. Did you love me
when you battered me into submission
without remission, did you love me then?
Strange love to hurt so much,
I recoil from your touch as you
try to stroke my injured pride.
I scream inside, but no sound comes out.
I trusted you and you betrayed me.
I loved you once but you waylaid
and raped my certitude, your credibility
discredited by your duplicity.
So, you want me to forgive you?
Do you know what I want in return?
I want to release my incarcerated memory.
I want to trust, to dip my toe in the water
of deliverance and tango to the rhythm of love.
I want to move forward. Propel myself toward
the future. Yes, I forgive you, for
in forgiving you I liberate myself.