Poems on the topic: heart

Poems on the topic “heart” on Poets.by.

DreamyDave Bonta

Urban tumbleweed

up and down to many places a sack which begins to want its color like a spirit of water returned to the yard the heart has read a true grammar in it
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Rumiesque

I value nothing more than error desire life before the service of courage the old must suspect that the mad motions of the heart serve no purpose but love or hatching the sudden motion of a cellar door long kept locked and half the wine drunk as a remedy
CheerfulDave Bonta

Kindergarten lesson

a paper heart to teach the rounds of a triangle her good hand falling on a roach
SadDave Bonta

Anatomy of melancholy

her physique is cut stone a feast of disorders I am a new cook but will be nothing by morning my heart must be a missed supper in her diet
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Your cheatin’ heart

what cheating rogues we are already married to time hard heart like a contract none of us understood but the undertaker who would not be content with fair words
RomanticDave Bonta

Smitten

the morning road where she alights and I who never loved my heart a heavy shoe cannot understand a purse which is little yet mighty
RomanticDave Bonta

Late love song

the beauty of her naked neck I admire it as we eat she loves horses and I am in pain from riding I have lived a very orderly life a cook may find my heart too old and hard
SadDave Bonta

Out of shape

alone with my pleasant rot I will not be fit like talk from upstairs the rough music of the heart
SadDave Bonta

Troubled

I have used a stone as a boat, but found it was never very good in the water. No open mind shall keep my best troubles. I send for the plasterer to counterfeit a heart.
SadDave Bonta

The sailor’s life

A year at sea, and the worm in my heart is like a train through a city I never heard of.
AngryDave Bonta

Heartless

Foul water in my house— a ship on a fen. I force the doctor to fetch for his salary my heart.
ContemplativeDave Bonta

Ukiyo

“Time enough” is a cheat; we make good sport of losing. Give me the passing of things: heart breaking in the opera, a love done after a little sin.

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