Tag Archives: lovepoem

A Cry From Imprisonment

01 Tuesday Nov 2022

Posted by in love, passion

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I’ve been reaching out to her in every way that I can from my cell

You see, patience is not my best feature

So I tap on the metal bars in search of a rhythm
Only her and I understand
I launch a sound in the air, hoping I know where her ears are listening

I summon her in the middle of the night in my lucid dreaming
if that’s what it takes to see her
I tell her I’m here. I’ll always be waiting and looking for her

You see, patience is not my best feature

So my spirit rises in the atmosphere to transmit my prayer
The wind causes turbulence. Sometimes I’m cold, and I envelop myself
I leave all I have behind because my interests are not pleasing her

There are some possibilities I must accept. But my heart doesn’t understand patience nor defeat
My soul doesn’t accept an outcome until it’s bold enough to face me
So I strum a guitar chord in her direction
“I’m sorry. I’m back. I’m waiting.”
So I speed through my daily commitments to leave an eternity of time for her. Forever.
Until she decides to come back.

You see, patience is not my best feature

So I apologize to my past.
I go back to the event that changed everything
Then create a reality where all of our dreams are accomplished
Where neither of us suffer and serve punishments

I recreate a bond so inviting
We’d have reasons to leave our unimpressive realities
We’d abandon the happiness we started forcing ourselves to rejoice in,
And go to that part of the multiverse
Where we nurtured freedom, peace and safety
All of our comforts.

So what are we living for? If not to amount into a higher self that exists throughout the universe
how long will it take until my higher self exists with her?
In the same room, where we go through our grocery list, separate the laundry and rip our hair over tax forms
Did you forget that alternate future?

How bad does the present have to be destroyed to rewrite a future set in stone?
How many times must I kill myself? How many times should I volunteer to die before my spirit arises to deity?
How holy must a human be to enter the presence of a Goddess who is cursed to these streets and mortal moral? Humanity morality

You see, patience is not my best feature

So I lay in bed unimpressed by lateness
I calculate these possibilities. Bringing the guardians of time to anxiety
I ask them to pay their debt for my frequent trips to the future, in the past,
Because the present had matters to be tended to and resolved
But I was convinced these matters already destroyed our future.

You see, patience is not my best feature

So I shoot the dream down out of anxiety.
I abandon the boat before it sails
I remove the moon from the sky claiming it’s to protect it
“Fear” is too similar to “care” so one is often confused for the other
So instead of waiting for doomsday or our ticket to paradise
I figured it’s best if I never find out.

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I wrote this about 7 hours ago. So it is still pretty new and unedited. If you have any suggestions on how I can improve it, please do let me know. Thank you!

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I Think Of You

26 Monday Sep 2022

Posted by in poetry

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I think of you often
I think of how happiness rolls off your lips
like it belongs there
like a tumbleweed freely in the desert

Did you know happiness looks great on you?

I think of you often
I think of the way my name rolls off your tongue
like a bow smoothing a harp
like a peacock’s tail blooming to greet the sun

I think of you often
I think of the way your short build still finds a way
like a stonecrop shattering hard circumstances
like a vine reaching no limits; the rose and the concrete

Did you know the oppressed always rise?

I think of you often
I think of the way your neck elongates
like fingers giving life to a limped dummy
like hands rising in the sanctuary

I think of you often
I think of the way rhythm roll ’round your hips
like chocolate snaking down the fountain
like music that attention always finds

Did you know you’re an addiction good for men?

I think of you often
I think of the way warmth waits in your embrace.
like ocean waves growing, rolling, sinking
like a crying baby calming in a mother’s arm.

Here’s a song:

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Candle Light

01 Monday Aug 2022

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You start a small fire in my heart
I protect it though the awaiting pain
I care for it so it would last through.
love is a candle light in constant motion

I wake up in the morning, small fire is in my heart
Too much movement can attract air. So I remain
As my mind is illuminated by many thoughts of you

if I can’t prevent it from dying,
I’ll convince myself to go to class
Where at 1:50 PM, when over 400 young adults
Are pushing their way out of a lecture hall,
I can make my way to you.
It’s not hard to find a flame in a crowd.
Then you’ll smile: igniting a small fire in my heart

It turns out that this girl was gay. I do wish she had told me that after I gave her this poem though…or at any point during the 3 years after I started talking to her, before I learned that very key information.

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Room 322

25 Monday Jul 2022

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the artists lounge in a room full of instruments
so daily performances don’t need advertisements.
Real-life athletes crowding the line of vision
television beaming football; Playstation X.
the most ecstatic floor in the building

But Room 322 is where beds join the chairing team
they talk like an open door. Invitation is never key
a room I walk past three different stairways, turn
walk by two more stairways, sometimes an elevator
take the stairs rarely used just so I’ll pass in front of

Her. She’d drive miles to that room
She’d go down a hill, walk under a bridge
follow the trail through trees thick at night
swivel among buildings made like Legos
painted in the uniform color of misdirection

I would too. Just to see her gold colored flats,
no-show socks, braces glimmering on a smile
when she smiles, I would feel too comfortable
when it’s late, perhaps 8, I would find a need
go somewhere non-urgent. Get there by walking

past three different sets of staircases, then turn,
walk by two other staircases, sometimes an elevator,
to take the stairs barely used, just to pass by Room 322.
delay my steps, turn my head, see her talking, laughing
where a hunter does not need some scheme to catch her

Y’all, this girl AGREED to go on a date with me after I had put my GAME ON for her but I was too much of a coward to follow through with the date!!!!! 😦

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Love Your Broken

11 Monday Jul 2022

Posted by in love, poem, poetry

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there’ll be a Pit on this journey
perhaps a Stop.

an encounter with promises
holding smiles kept broken by deception.

Arrange tables, brush seats
pour relaxation, feed fables
sorry, forgiveness, regrets;
everytime given the obscure choice,
you abandoned your faithful promises.

Look within your heart
fabricate stories far fetched
the reality built in the imagination:
what if I had stayed loyal?
held the promises made to myself?

blames won’t be tossed
grief will be Lost.
After all, these Promises are not the only ones broken.

Inspired by: “Love After Love” – Derek Walcott

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English Girl

06 Monday Jun 2022

Posted by in love, poetry

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It’s a constant doing:
trying to catch your eyes
so i can demonstrate the smile i’ve been working
on in my mirror every night to impress you
so you’d return a smile that purifies me more
than mine ever deserved your attention.

I’d tell my friends:
i’m not into you…like that
but each time you walk in i race to find
the parts of you imprisoning my attention

Sandals for footwear:
casual; the art of “i don’t care”
everyone competes each other’s looks
catch views with their suffering hooks
but you be you: simple—a natural form

From lazy hair
to the liberty in your steps,
(i know you were not even trying)
the casual black leggings, random sweater
plain face for the world to see, shirt dancing
tango with your body. a beauty disrespectful

So my mind flies
to a future you and i smile to
get lost in…into our bedtime. until I wake up!
run to English class: a race, when you walk in
a wish, that you were mine.

A FEW THINGS:

Thing One: The last time I saw this girl was on the last day of my English class back in University in 2015, but till this day I still regret having been too wimpy chicken to shoot my shot at her (court her/ask her on a date). I didn’t even have the courage to give her this poem!! ::(((( #sadnessandtears

Thing Two: I could’ve sworn I had posted this poem here already at some point in the past, but I searched through my archives and couldn’t find it. If I did post it before, and you had read it in the past, well congrats! You get to read it a second time ::))))) (you’re welcome)

Thing Three: Here’s a poem titled Indie girl, click here. Here is the video for Indie Girl, click here.

Thing Four: Here’s a song I REALLY love called “Polish Girl”, click here.

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dead roses

14 Monday Feb 2022

Posted by in poem, poetry, writer

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these roses are dead.
There’re more thorns on the floor than petals

Tell me the color of your dreams
violet, violets are blue
but what have these roses done to Us?

i think We are romanticizing this too much
i think you’re holding on to these roses too firmly
baby you got fucking blood on your hands!
There’s no more saving this—you’re not Jesus!
So why are there holes in your palms
Blood on your hands
Crosses behind your back
Prayers in the atmosphere
My knees on the floor, pleading

heart bleeding, turning this room red
i only wanted to taste this dream. Violets
everything YOU said. everything i promised myself.

Roses are red.
Violets are blue.

laying on my bed. clothes drenched, red
the sheets, too.
my soul is blue. my feelings. my mood.

Roses bleed red,
to hell with the violets
We shouldn’t have loved.

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So, This Is Goodbye :(

03 Tuesday Aug 2021

Posted by in love, poetry

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Say goodbye, my love.
My thoughts enraged
My feelings revolting
To escape in tears

Say goodbye, former partner.
Uncertain of my wants
Pushing you away
The farther you go
The harder I pull

Say goodbye, dear friend.
This termination is best
Though my heart won’t rest
A piece of you is needed in me

Say goodbye, my soul.
Before I survive your absence
I might in every sense
Lose myself first

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Here’s a song I think of whenever I lose someone I once loved: Click here.

Inventions And Desires (Part 2)

09 Wednesday Sep 2020

Posted by in Art, poem

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I would say I’m in love with you;
I love you;
I want to make love to you;
Your smile lights a bulb in me that
Thomas Edison, as well, was convinced would never glow
 
But I think, maybe I only
Want to love you.
Like I would spend hours, days, weeks, months, years.
(Two times, I’ve spent years),
In middle school,
Caved in my imagination, boiling a potion
That convinces everyone at reach
That I love her.
 
I love her so much.
 
Because at 13 years old, I had perfect knowledge of what love is~

@sircharlesthepoet

Inventions And Desires

07 Monday Sep 2020

Posted by in poem, poetry

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You have cheer
You have pain
You have beauty
You have what I’ve always thought to be perfection.
 
And I know perfection is not real,
But…
 
My imagination has seen so close
That I tend to end: falling for the girls who…
Well,
I fall for ideas of girls.
Perception of girls
The inspiration; imagination

I think the concept of, “falling in love” is
An idea that a dreamer invented.
Poor dreamer probably came so close to it:
Dreams of drowning.
The dreamer had too much love to pursue that person
So they chose to imagine being succumbed
Falling from it all.
To where? Death, perhaps.
But, idk
I’m just a writer.

I would say I’m in love with you;
I love you;
I want to make love to you;
Your smile lights a bulb in me that
Thomas Edison, as well, was convinced would never glow

But I think, maybe I only
Want to love you.
Like I would spend hours, days, weeks, months, years.
(Two times, I’ve spent years)
In middle school,
Caved in my imagination, boiling a potion
That convinces everyone at reach
That I love her.

I love her so much.

Because at 13 years old, I had perfect knowledge of what love is~

Do we love people?
Or do we want to love?
Do we love the idea of loving someone?
Do we want something non-existent—that a dreamer had waved into imagination
However long ago?
How can it truly be love if
A heartbreak strikes, pain soars high as kites
Then you don’t love ‘em no mo’?
Should true love be perishable?

Such the questions I never asked myself
In
College
High
Middle
Elementary
Kinder

You’re a beauty in written and photography.

After many pictures out in the open
I’ve come to realize that you know the sun thinks so
Too.

Nature might be going through this phase of
“what is love” too.
So everything about you is nothing short of natural.
A Natural Miracle.

Maybe nature does know what love is
Maybe there’s something about it that we are all addicted to
Maybe we love not knowing about love
Maybe we want to fall for an idea. A piece of imagination.

Maybe this poem has derailed. Like my mind does, each time I see a picture
Of you.

@sircharlesthepoet

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think 🙂