Fires
morning like a small fire
I ask myself to be kind
for the truth is comical
and in you the spark
that makes me go
Romantic poems
Romantic poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Alewife
our private war
like dwelling in fire
lips that I have kissed
as much as some ales
JOHNNY TO FRANKIE
I curse you & you come back
for more, your proud lip trembling.
You deny nothing.
There are words that should never be said &
I say them one by one because they are delicious.
Every stunned look has its echo
in the pit of my stomach. It terrifies me
how much of you I have taken in
& how much more I still need.
When a hound feels sick he eats
a little snakeroot, cleans himself out.
I love you beyond reason.
If only you would pay me back in my own coin.
Rubaiyat
September morning just cool enough
to show the soil’s breath. Forest
in fog, new gold under
old green, give me
your delectable frost, fine
web of lines, the wind-
fallen apple that fits
so snugly in the palm
& when I take a bite it bites back.
Who’d want their sugar
straight, without
some tartness? Give it to me
dry, as they say of wine. Impure,
like every true love. And
the must – ah, let it settle
to the bottom
In a Month of Sundays
All this time without the sight of you
has been bright, quiet, sweat-free,
with only the distant tolling of bells
morning after morning to remind me
that somewhere people might
be rising & kneeling together,
intertwining the fingers
of their left & right hands
& bowing their heads over them,
intoning the joyful syllables of reunion.
The moon has rounded its full cycle
from dark to dark all the while
this single day has kept replaying,
like a peppy song on heavy rotation,
& I have set the noontime table
as well as a guy who lives alone
Holiday desideratum
I have instructions
but nothing without the sea
my full gaze upon
her conversation
instructions as general
as the rain
Aging ungracefully
after drinking
where are we
as windy as winter
but with married hands
in our blue
wonder bed
Managing expectations
ask a kiss to wait
till further orders
he who must come in hope
will go to wrack
see all the grief
put to work loving
like a cook’s conquest
of the eyes
Instrumental
an ordinary husband may sing
tuning his guitar
I play a bad instrument
with rich oils
I dare not believe it is good
better than expected
and my love is dancing
in her bed
Black is the color
how lightly a kiss speaks
no word but ourselves
like the ink of night lost
in her mourning gown
Unobtainable
far off
the legerdemain of a peak
often seen yet impossible
ever to have
as are you
Entangled life
doors in the forest
took the dimensions of certain
spots where we met
so the heart’s wishes
grow intricate together
sorrow in balance with glad
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