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As we all catch the fever of Valentine's Day and spend days trying to find the best gift to prove our love for our beloved ones, the poets of our Forum have put their feelings into words
- in the best possible way.
Please vote for the poem you like best and the winner will be annouced on February 17th!
Please do not discuss the poems here until the voting is over!
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To My Love
Come my darling the moon is round
And stars undress the breast of night
Against the clasp of the dark bow;
Come the evening has turned,
Let us to bed.
And once in bed let’s snip the light
And purse into our covers white
And press our eyes into a sleep
Then slip into a height of dreams
We are in bed.
Aroused or asleep, I ask, where is heaven?
With your arm across my chest,
Your chin pressed to my shoulder,
It seems the celestial arc above us
Pivots to the pattern of your breathing.
You shift, I shift.
Whatever moves Venus and Mars
Moves us on this mattress,
Circles the rings of Saturn
The moons of Jupiter, and our dear Luna
Saunters across the onyx sky,
The cold flesh of space,
Inverse to the warm breast against my arm.
Your leg crosses over mine,
While comets foil their tails bright,
Like snowballs shedding icy drops,
The moisture of your breath against my ear.
This bed was once a cherry tree,
Sprouting pink blossoms in April,
The sign of our love.
Each year as another ring grew,
It rose higher in the sunshine of day,
Lignum tissue soaked with sap.
Still now the wood, as in its bloom days,
Braces firm to motion, as you turn,
Folds to the sun, as I swing to you,
Nudge up to the round curve of your hips.
My arm goes over you now,
The blossoms bud to my touch
And when you turn back and our arms
Intertwine like the branches of the tree,
We slide our bottoms down
And hear the drumming axe, panels pressed,
Cut and joined and stained.
Oh my darling, I am so spent,
So stoke your touch across my neck
And let the stars move to their minds,
Let’s lay in bed.
And when the sun decides to shine,
And trees stretch out a morning sigh,
And we are drained like fallen trees,
Let’s lay in bed.
Love Is But A Spider's Web
14th February 1997
The day when together were we
Enjoying the lovely weather
He expressed his love for me
Just three words were needed
To make my day:
I love you
Three words to bring in me
What seemed like Godly power
Remembering the ecstasy I felt then
Makes me shiver at this very hour
15th July 1997
He broke up with me
Love comes and goes like anything
Now for another woman
His love had to cling
Three words he required
To bring me straight down from sky to earth
19th August 1998
Another man I loved and thought who loved me
Embarrassed me by his confused
Expressions on my expression of feelings
For him
What's good about this emotion called love
When you can't even recognise your loved one
28th April 1999
My friend I had never imagined could
Expressed he wanted us to be more than friends
And that he loved me
This time I was quite sure I had it right
He was not your usual kind
Not the one for whom love is but
Valentine's Day
2nd December 2002
Just a few days before
Our marriage was decided
He returned back the engagement ring
His parents did not approve of our different races
He loved them more
A good son was he
What's good about this love
When your lover has others to share his love with?
18th March 2005
Was the last day I held a belief in love
Romantics like me are obstinate enough
That even after having been dumped down so many times
We survive
But this blow on this day was a way too much
The one I loved
And who claimed loving me
Left me for money
Left me for his good
Also my good though at that time
It felt like hell
But realization of the weak
Nature of the common love
Did me some good later
Something which does not stay forever
Something which get you to understand your loved one
Something which is not all in your lap
Something you have got to share
Something over which things like money can be preferred
What's good about falling in its trap?
What we need is a commitment
Commitment for the sake of commitment
Or if love would have to work
It might work as a love for commitment
Otherwise escape, escape, escape
This emotion they refer to as love!
Fear of Drowning
Is this drowning?
- Desirespills into the room, a black pool, rising;
we are blind, swimming in the darkness
reaching for a life raft, finding only
each other,
- fingers entangled,- inexpressible flesh.
Together
we submerge beneath the surface,
put your breath in my mouth
and we’ll plunge
- beyond our knowing
thoughts, guided by instinct, senses
- flooded,- expanding
like a bubble, wrapped around us,
pulling us
- down,- down,- down.
Let me drown.
I sink my face into your salt-damp skin,
and breathe you in.
On Valentine's Day
she took him by the hand.
Let's go for a walk, she whispered.
He nodded imperceptibly.
How wonderful the birds are singing.
The robin's melody reminds me
of our first walk here in the park.
I was wearing that pink skirt,
my favourite, you remember?
I was madly in love with you.
And look, over there, the old oak;
it's shed its leaves already.
Brown and yellow,
some still green.
The storm is over now.
Don't worry.
Shall we feed the ducks by the pond, dear?
It used to be fun.
How greedy they are!
Some chunks are too big
but they won't let go,
they fight.
Let's go home, darling.
It's getting cold.
She tugged his blanket a bit tighter
but still had his hand in hers,
she didn't let go
as she was standing by the hospital bed
where he
- or what was left of him
after the stroke -
had been lying motionless
while she'd taken him
for a walk in the park
on Valentine's Day.
Immunity
Again we part.
Tomorrow,
at our meeting place:
The clock from the centre of the town
which, for years,
has been striking 8 times just to
reunite us.
Since when have we been
meeting there?
Fearing that you won’t come,
dreading of break-up words,
throwing desperate looks
at the minute hands
of the old clock
which had formed the centre
of our parents’ universe
and perhaps of our grandparents’.
Please recall me to ask them.
And please recall me
to ask grandma
if she and grandpa
stopped loving after 4 years
as stupid psychologists claim
to know nowdays.
Science has grown up too bad,
pretending to know people’s feelings
better than people know themselves..
And stupid teachers again
who insist on warning adolescents
that their love
is as hot as flame
but as short as life
comparing it
to the universal age.
Can’t I live my life
without knowing what will happen next?
Do I necessarily need advice and warns?
Do I have to hear people muttering
or yelling
that you will stop loving me tomorrow?
Is it a real pleasure to shout about love’s death
in an adolescent’s holy room called heart?
Is it such a pleasure
when a teenager weeps, to go on
uttering on a melancholy tone that
‘This happens to everyone, my dear’.
Does this produce a great ecstasy to the one
who keeps remembering that love dies?
What kind of man is the one who is so sure about this
and wants the others to be also?
If everyone knew for certain that love dies
after 4 years,
then everyone will stop loving.
Stupid pshychologists and teachers,
you’re destroying splendid souls,
you’re cutting wings with your unrequired advice.
I thought that
Your hands will always
caress my body like they did tonight.
I thought that
Your lips will always slide on mine
like they did tonight.
Do all these people want to tell me
that we will never encounter the other’s lips
under the shower which comes
all of a sudden, during the night?
Standing under an umbrella,
you - holding my neck
never wanting to let me go?
You would always ask me in the past:
‘Have you forgotten what a joke is?’
I would answer to you:
‘Life’s not a joke.’
‘It is. Life’s laughing at us all the time,
but we are laughing at it harder
when we go on loving ourselves
In the wheat, under the moonbeams.’
Let’s leave the clock to other naive couples.
Science made my soul immune.
A Mash Note
To The Guy Who Wrote
The Best Song in the World
It’s couples-dating time,
Sweet songbird mating time.
You made a fire that flames this fan.
I'm old and dismissible,
cold and unkissable –
Yet you're my favorite kind of man.
Do my straight lines lack your wit?
Do their slips show a little bit?
When they hook up to a beat, do they scan?
But – though neither hot nor ripe,
I know I'm not your type -
Say, Hart of hearts, what would you say
On that long-lost Valentine’s Day?
A Love Poem
It is such a wonderful sight.
This love that we can’t share
I see it my dreams at night
But I know we can’t be there
A look into the thoughts below
Will certainly reveal
A place that we may never go
That’s others prejudices will conceal
I wish I could help you find this place
Hidden within my mind
But the innocence upon your face
Tells me you are blind
So hold my hand, believe in me
And Follow close behind
I only want for you to see
The heaven in my mind
For it truly is a wonderful sight,
This love that we might share
I see it in my dreams at night
And wish we could be there
But reality is creeping in
The images fade it seems
I am losing hold of sleeping in
And losing all my dreams
But you will always be on my mind
And to even up the scores
You will always be in my dreams
And I hope that I can be in yours.
Heart Links
My heart is linked to hers
No matter where her heart is
The link pulls and tugs me towards her.
I wear the chain I forged in love link by link,
I bound my heart to hers of my own free will.
And of her own free will she wears the link to me.
We may be miles apart, yet along the links the warm love flows,
So that we are never really apart, just a link away.
We wear the links we forged in love,
We linked our hearts together of our own free will
And of our own free will we wear our binding links—
There is nothing that can break the links we forged in flames of love—
Except a certain icy cold curved bladed scythe…
We need more votes!
And there are only 8 poems!
I thought more people would have voted by now as well - vote people its free!!!!
:lol: :thumbs_upQuote:
Originally Posted by pussnboots
Going once...
It's going to be a draw!
Oh, someone break the tie.