Tag: romantic poetry

Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me

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Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me

My day in the blistering sunshine
I wish your hand was latched onto mine
Except when you held it too tight, it hurt, and I said nothing because I was engulfed in the ivory, acrylic paint of the walls
I wish you could soothe me like you do your male friends

I got, rather presumptive
I thought we could make it work because it felt so worth it
Like the tides would change & our circumstances wouldn’t get the best of us
When I fell into old subservient patterns,
That I thought I wouldn’t
I said, screw it
We could work through it
But the tables that turned against me had thorns
My blood wasn’t well & I was increasingly worn
Down by the extent of which, I wanted it to work
A violent but quiet discomposure

Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me (continued)

Down by the bayside
I’ll never forget when an acoustic version of a song I loved in middle school (still do) came on
You threw your head back and sang so softly
I found it mildly alarming how awfully charming
And crisply ambient the evening felt right then and there
My eyes started to tear, and I wiped them real fast
I thought if it could be like this, we’d be golden
Nothing to take & everything to give
That is the drawback to my diplomacy
It doesn’t quite work out for me

Now I’m basking in the feverish sunshine
Hearing the lyrics in my mind
How true they conform to the set of conditions that unveiled my gentle but muted position
I wanted all of it to feel just like that
Right then and there, I was far too aware
That you are a beautiful human being only when you get what you want

Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me (continued)

But I can’t always play the right song
And moments in passing affect my brain far too strong
I latch on

If we could have just stayed at that stop light forever
We would’ve made it work
If you could have sang lullabies to lull me to sleep
We still couldn’t have made it work

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Poem: Four thoughts (Chicago dandelions)

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Poem: Four thoughts (Chicago dandelions)

Rose petals with lime in my hot coffee
Author’s alterations, metasomatism beneath my bedsheets
Making changes to my will because I will outlive my instruments & garments
I’m the most proper fit, and I laugh to myself
Because nobody else thinks it to be true
Playing in the garden all night long

If you’re made of arachidonic acid, you’re still not essential to me
Accelerated depreciation is like using plastic
So casual for you
The cavity where I reside is not accepting visitation
Though you can leave the fleurs and baguettes at the doorstep
Can I be a princess for once, please?
Can someone naturally want to take care of me?

Poem: Four thoughts (Chicago dandelions) [continued]

My abdomen is covered in spears
I don’t know where they came from
He found it addicting, and I chose not to feel bad, because I settled for a freedom that involved both him and me
I’m stored in the nacelle, and you’re a half-decent engineer
Who works so much he loses sight of
The real thing
When it’s engaging in self-piercing
Damaging increments
Fingernails painted dusty pink

I feel a permanent wholesome vacancy
A vacant office
A vacant smile
A vacant estate
A vacant room
A vacant seat on a bus
A vacant throne
A disengaged observer
Sometimes I wish you would just look at me
Stare at me so I would feel like I was really living, here.

Poem: Four thoughts (Chicago dandelions) [continued]

An abandoned factory
An abandoned field
An abandoned vehicle
An abandoned baby
I was left to fall into a state of disuse
And then I had to pick myself up
Here we are, I’m staring at Chicago on the plane’s seat live screen map, and I want to cry, because it’s screaming out at me

“You need to get rid of everything so that I can consume you in full”
Nobody can love you so much to the point that you can’t leave
This is everything and all that you want
To the point where a low-quality live map brings tears to my turning-dark-green eyes
Straightforward without reserve, my advocacy for my well-being
Openhearted and honest with my eternal sin
That I’m falling more and more in love with

I want what’s favorable
I accept what makes me want to sink, not just mine, but all of the ships
Things highly unpleasant to me are advantageous to the attitude I want to cultivate
Impartial to how we couldn’t quite relate

Poem: Four thoughts (Chicago dandelions) [continued]

I’ve got dandelions in my hair
The right guy won’t blow my wishes out
A commendatory view of my well-calculated decision and unruly spirit

I appreciate it all
The astronomical pitfalls
Everything is beautiful to me
If it wasn’t, I would not have stayed around here

Poem: Four thoughts (Chicago dandelions) [continued]

Sweet and angelic of you, a stranger said
Looked at me with the admiration the last few lacked
In a Duty Free store

I learned to be safe in my own skin
Complimentary to my own skeleton
Dandelions in my hair
The right guy won’t blow my wishes out

She was always four thoughts ahead of everyone else

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Love poem: Acceptable pain, ivory thighs (sparkling)

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Love poem: Acceptable pain, ivory thighs (sparkling)

Can I show you what I think about
Daisies and marigolds and merry-go-rounds
When you’re stuck in the inner confines of your mind
I want to be one of the things that makes you unwind

I’ve been missing appointments
Surrounded by a terror I can’t seem to escape from
If there was a human being
Who could look into the pupils of my eyes
Tell me exactly how much incoming light
I’m receiving from the night sky

Love poem: Acceptable pain, ivory thighs (sparkling) [continued]

I feel like a fossil, that has not yet been found
Wound up tight beneath the ground
Screaming my lungs out
As it is expected,
No audible sound

Flowers grow around the outside of my ivory thighs
I don’t dare pick them
Like the fresh cut flowers my mother gets me from the local grocery store
If I could lay beside you
On a bed of grass, I’m not allergic to
Tell you that I’ve been feeling, this way
Would it change
The course of things
I’m in love with diamond rings

Love poem: Acceptable pain, ivory thighs (sparkling) [continued]

Doesn’t take much time to listen
But people are so busy
Everyone’s so lonely and they work so hard to distract themselves from this
But if you and I could sit in your garage
Count all the beautiful spiders
Give them names that we’ve picked out
For kids, we don’t know when or if we’ll have

Somewhere there is a boy that
Doesn’t ask me to take my glasses off
Actually finds them kind of hot
The aspartame in my can of coke will disassemble
Transform into a novel molecule
Inside my microbiome
Travel to my brain
Tell me there is both acceptable and unacceptable pain

Love poem: Acceptable pain, ivory thighs (sparkling) [continued]

I think I am a princess
But I’m not locked in no castle
I live with a beautiful strawberry garden
That the snails keep on stealing
They’re small and they’re fragile
And I’m a home-maker
I want to be the dandelion
You waste your breath on

I’ll let you take it all from me
On the brink of insanity
Because with my own kindness I’m quite pleased

I think I am a princess
For the right guy to look at my pupils
Tell me how much light is coming in from the night sky

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Not a love poem: Olive tree (take your pick)

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Not a love poem: Olive tree (take your pick)

I think we’re
Not getting too wrapped up
I’ll get up soon
To turn the microwave off

I think we’re
Naturally not too wrapped up
I’ll get up later
To turn the microwave off

I scratched my leg violently on rose thorns
As if I would ever mind
It’s been a long time since
Brown eyes, green eyes
I hate when they turn hazel
Like an olive tree
Park my car on Chestnut avenue
It’s a longer walk but
I like the name
Burn it to see embers
Collect street signs
All the rose thorns in the world are allowed to scratch me
In fact, I’ll invite them with bliss
Using long, Bambi eyelashes

Not a love poem: Olive tree (take your pick) [continued]

I think you would be
Friends with the quarterback
I never cared about football
We could make fun of
The way they drop the ball
(Again!)
Wearing their jerseys’ cos we like the material
So supportive
What a team effort
I clench my hands together because otherwise I think I’m going to lose my mind

I never really understood the concept of romance
Is it you buying me a vegan strawberry milkshake?
Dirt on my face at the park and you think I look pretty?
I have thousands of songs I’ve been dying to share
With somebody
They mean
Too much to me
To share, though
So I’ll
Keep them to myself
Out of bad habit
I’m the bad habit

Not a love poem: Olive tree (take your pick)[continued]

Show up late and get there just on time
I wouldn’t get through security clearance with that
Type of ambivalence I could
Make a rosebud dream
Of grabbing me from the interior and
Turning me inside out
So the world could know
I wouldn’t get through security clearance like this

Not a love poem: Olive tree (take your pick) [continued]

What’s that?
Is that romance
You getting me a vegan strawberry milkshake?
That I put in the fridge
To enjoy my second half the very next day
Laughing to myself
Sharp edges soften
My shampoo smells lovely
I can’t get through security clearance like this

An olive tree
Okay, I’ll be an olive tree
If you pick me
Okay,
I’ll be an olive tree
If you choose me

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Poem: Angel (first impressions)

distantcaveLeave a comment

Welcome to my poetry website! If the colour of a poem’s background does not change, it’s still the same poem. Each poem ends when you’ve reached the Soundcloud box.

I’m working on a new email newsletter for post updates. xx

Poem: Angel (first impressions)

I’m made of limestone; artists come from across the world just to carve me into
Something that can breathe
I’ve got angel wings
That never tear
Can see right through my own teeth
My future with anybody
Carve me into
Carve me into
Something that’s alive and breathing

Drawing faces on eggs and putting them back in the carton at the local market
Way I walk makes a man wish he could properly aim at a target
Not everything comes with practice and this I keep written on the inside of my inner lip
Angel feathers, sparkly pink cream lip gloss
Climb to the tops of the trees he painted when he was severely depressed
Cut down for a holiday that I do adore
Like the perfume I let flow across my bedroom floor

Hazel eyes that are this close to igniting a fire
Soy coffee Frappuccino, five boxes of matches
A liquor cabinet that only holds candles
My love is addictive, so I’m careful where I place my things
The rocks at my apartment complex are fake and so are the looks he gave
Buying lighter fluid by the barrel
Why would you do that to your own home
When it looks so sweet amongst cobblestone
The air is fresh like a diamond that I found in Nevada
Next to waterfalls that only fell
When I would ask them to

My black jeans hold eye drops and amphetamines
A boy in a beanie ordering coffee has forgotten his own name
He doesn’t know what to say
I say pick one, you can be anyone – don’t you know?
He coughs
I melt
Slip in-between the ash brown tiles that line the floor
I only like three bands that make alternative rock
And the rocks are fake around my block
Like the looks he gave when I sipped my coffee and began to realize I was
So much in the wrong place
Glasses that are black, lips that make you blush
I’m used to
I’m used to being both too much

And not enough

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