Dear Ms. De Lieva, I’m unsure if these words will ever reach your ears or ever pass your lips,
or if the paper these words are printed on will ever be touched by your fingertips.
We have never met and if I’m being honest, we probably never will,
but it doesn’t matter, for in ten years time I will feel the same way still.
I don’t know how to prove to you I am real, or that these words are in any way accurately truthful,
however, I could only ever write a poem like this for you, because never has there been anyone else quite so beautiful.
Moreover, I’m uncertain if this is going to be the greatest love poem never told,
but, if this was to be the last great love poem, I would want it to be worth its weight in solid gold.
I don’t want to create a stereotype or write a cliché,
because I’ve something important I would very much like to say.
But how to articulate my thoughts and feelings? I am unsure what to suggest
for this isn’t just a piece of writing, this is the beginning of a man’s quest
to tell you, the woman that I love the most exactly how I feel,
no matter how crazy or foolish it sounds, no matter how surreal
and although the evidence supporting the theory that one human can love another without knowing them is aloof,
I do not need it, for the many words I use do not only construct poetic stanzas, they also contain my proof.
On first impression I may seem extraordinarily loquacious
but that is because I am endeavouring to be efficacious
in describing the passionate feelings inside of me and my longing to articulate them well
because, like several thousand men before me Ms. De Lieva I have fallen under your spell
that you have cast on me and every other man privileged to look upon your gorgeous form like a well trained magician
and it don’t matter if I am grammatically incapable or if I happen to be sesquipedalian
for words are only words and although they describe my feelings they cannot describe my loving heart.
I long to kiss you Ms. De Lieva, and now, this piece of poetry I would like to gladly start.
But for all of my garrulousness; for every chosen rhyme and written word,
I don’t know if my feelings are articulated, or if they sound absurd.
Unlike you ma’am, I’m limited only to English, which is not the perfect language
and if I knew of a foreign word stronger than ‘love’, I would gladly go on a pilgrimage
to claim it as my own. I would appreciate the opportunity to say my feelings to you rather than have them read
because the honesty of a person’s words can only be captured from inside the heart when they have been honestly said.
I long to steal you away for a minute, just as you permanently stole my attention.
Only then could the truth be revealed, along with the knowledge of my undying affection.
I have lived a life of many endeavours, but never have I been struck down by such a dream,
however, this fantasy that I long for could never come to fruition so it would seem.
This dream of mine ain’t something easily granted; it’s to spend my life with you Ms. De Lieva, the most gorgeous human being;
the single most amazing young woman I have ever had the extraordinary privilege to view on the silver screen.
Love isn’t something that can be taken though, it needs to be given voluntarily
and I know I don’t deserve someone as special as a ravishing angelic beauty.
I cannot discern the length of time these feelings shall last, for no measurement could ever be too long;
all I know is that my feelings are invulnerable and never has there been anything quite so strong.
I will admit my mind is incredibly convoluted
and I will not deny I must be totally deluded
for having romanticised feelings for such a famous woman.
Ms. De Lieva, I hope you can perhaps forgive this young person
for becoming so unfathomably infatuated with you;
I’m sure if the scenario were reversed you’d feel the same way too.
I do not mean to be speculative, but it ain’t everyday someone of such rare beauty appears before one’s eyes
and I feel privileged to have seen someone of such astounding physical and mental beauty; it’s a welcome surprise.
I realise I may seem foolish, but at the same time I’m not that much of a tragic fool; I know a woman like you would never be seen with a man like me
and even if I were to become successful, by that time you’ll be living with your future husband and adoring children, surrounded by loving family.
There is no way for me to prove that I am not another man crushing on a celebrity,
just as me proving my love for you is as real as the clouds in the sky, is a great difficulty.
On top of this, it would not be paranoia to assume that one would be less attracted to you than your established name;
that a person would fall not for you, but your vast accumulated wealth of money and your incredible amount of fame.
However, I have all the symptoms of love; I find it hard to breathe and I can barely eat,
you are inside my very soul Ms. De Lieva, just as you are now a part of my heartbeat.
To me, you are a talented diva with the body of an hourglass, living the dream you were born for.
It doesn’t matter where I stand; I’ll never be close enough to you and I will always request to have more,
but what egotistical ideology would I be corrupted by to believe a Goddess of such fair beauty
could develop feelings for a lesser mortal, when her physical appearance causes even the sun’s rays jealousy.
To imagine you Ms. De Lieva, the dictionary’s definition of true perfection looking at me romantically is ridiculous,
and I would very much appreciate never having to compromise the strong feelings I have for you with such unjustifiable hubris
and although I do realise we will not be together,
I fear these feelings may last a lifetime; if not forever.
I know very little about you Ms. De Lieva, you are a complete mystery,
but I’d like to think I know enough for my heart to feel the way it does. Physically,
‘beautiful’ barely begins to describe how immeasurably gorgeous you are
and those flawless brown eyes of yours are the most amazing I’ve ever seen by far.
Your looks are just as incalculable as your professional brilliance,
rivalled only by the attractive qualities of your intelligence.
This is evident through the way you write, your sentences, paragraphs and pieces all being unbelievably captivating
and your cheerfully pleasant demeanour and matching happy personality are just as wonderfully fascinating.
Moreover ma’am, your deliciously dark hair is so ravishing to behold and is unbelievably straight,
there’s not a part of you that’s not unimaginably perfect, there’s not a part of you that I could ever hate.
Your fantastic smile which could be described in no less than a thousand romanticised pages is absolutely unfathomable in its worth
and I don’t believe anyone would disagree if I were to be so bold as to say you have the most fabulous smile on all of planet Earth.
Your lips are as pink as a rare flower and your skin is as terrific as an award winning piece of art
and as for the rest of your amazing physical features, I honestly wouldn’t even know where to start
for no words could do you justice. If the woman that you are on the inside Ms. De Lieva is just as beautiful as who you are physically
then you might be the most gorgeous woman who has ever lived; an inspirational Goddess; an evocative angel; a wonderful lady.
Ms. De Lieva, out of all the people in this world, you are the young woman I want to be with most.
When I close my eyes and let sleep take me, you continuously flood my many dreams and like a ghost
you haunt me. When this happens I always wonder, could I haunt your sleep the way you haunt mine?
Could this ever be at all possible or is this particular question out of line?
Upon originally seeing you I was completely mesmerised and the first words I was able to manageably utter were ‘oh my God’,
for never before had I seen anyone so graciously beautiful and the feelings inside of me felt so incredibly odd
because I had never seen anyone who was more amazing than Queen Elizabeth, more inspirational than Cleopatra and more beautiful than Aphrodite;
someone so unbelievable in their characteristics I could have sworn, if I had not been so certain, that I had strolled into an alluring romantic fantasy.
Do with me what you will; head, heart, soul, I am one hundred per cent yours
and by that I do mean everything, from my strengths to my fatal flaws.
As stated in prior stanzas though, as much as I want it to be, this is not our fate
but if it were, no matter the longevity, any length of time would be worth the wait
to look upon you with my very own two eyes and not through the eyes of an artificial screen,
for that is no way to marvel at the woman, who is possibly, the most perfect human being,
for you are always on my mind and yet you are the part of me I am always missing
because come tonight, instead of me, there shall be a different man you will be kissing.
I don’t mean to appear negative, I only wish to state the facts
and if by the end of this my dignity is no longer intact
then that is the sacrifice I will gladly make. The heart wants what the heart wants and apparently, all my heart wants is you
and if this is proven not to be an accurate statement, then I am at a major loss as to what could be more true.
For waltzing through a river of magma, swimming through the angry seas and braving a cyclone
seem to me like great risks I would gladly take to one day call a fraction of your love my own.
On that note, it seems blatantly clear to me that I have quite a gargantuan dilemma;
that being, I have fallen unconditionally in love with Canadian actress Kat De Lieva.
Lastly, I hope I have not offended you Ms. De Lieva, for I never meant to cause you any distress;
all I ever wanted to do in writing this piece was reveal my feelings and ultimately confess
that much like oxygen, food and water you are something I desperately need
and to have you in this life of mine, I swear, I will happily fight, burn and bleed.
As previously stated, I don’t want to use a cliché line like ‘marry me’ or ‘there is nothing I wouldn’t do’,
so instead, allow me to write without bias or nefarious intent, Kat De Lieva, I am in love with you.
Again, I feel the need to say everything I write is true, from the stanzas to the words I have compiled,
sincerely and with kind regards, very much appreciation and never ending love, your Derek Childs.
Did you enjoy this particular poem? If so, there is a sequel titled Dear Kat de Lieva Part 2, which can be found at this particular link: http://wp.me/p24LWs-cF
Thank you for reading.
Silent desire watches
cloaked in mystery.
Not a soul knows who I am
and I like it that way.
I sit across from her
and dare not say a word.
I laugh at my inadequacy
to convey my feelings
to such a rare beauty.
I long to be garrulous,
but I hold my tongue between
clenched teeth in the hope
that my feelings shall fade, or
she should suddenly disappear.
However, I know I do not
deserve her and I believe she
may be married, for the finger
of someone so special could
not remain naked for long.
I avoid eye contact to
minimise the potential
pain, for a heart can only grieve
if another has knowledge of it
and the wrongful intent to do harm.
Not to say she would hurt me,
for she seems perfect in every
way, and it’s the perfect predator
one must watch out for, cuz they
have the most deadly sting.
My comments may seem lifeless
and lacking in humanity,
but neither is my problem,
for I am broken, nothing more
and every time I see such
beauty, I become broken a little
more, for I know that I am beneath
her and thus could never be
good enough. On that note
please, allow me to describe her to you:
Delicious dark eyes
shine like shimmering diamonds
on a mid-winter’s night,
the sparkling warmth of their
magnificent existence being
almost utterly unfathomable
within my palpitating heart.
Light chocolate brown skin,
not sparkling, glittering or
shining, but neutral in design,
looking so cool and radiant,
gently glowing under the sun.
Pink rosy lips delectably
move as unfamiliar words
in an untraceable accent
are produced by an intelligibly
brilliant mind, whilst longing, like
a flower in the meadow to be
plucked, oh so courteously.
Her elegantly formed alien
body, of foreign culture and
design belongs upon a
pedestal, for the flawlessness
of its ravishing impressions
deserve to be admired by all.
A white button down shirt with
room for two, billows softly in the
breeze, covering that which I wish to
uncover, whilst at the same time
revealing droplets of perspiration,
slowly moving down her chest.
Blue skin fit jeans, their colour
fading, magnify the curvature
of the legs, and where those same
legs reach her back, which, if I may
say so is an image I would
Combined, her physical
appearance is angelic, whilst
internally she is so much more
and if I believed good things could
come true, I would grab her by the
hair, throw her up against a wall
and nibble my way down her front.
So, with this writ, I sit back
and relax, my words never
failing me on paper, but
never to be said aloud, as
I every so often catch a quick
look at her and think to myself;
Alexia is perfect.
There are many poems written every day. This particular poem is about many different themes; this particular poem is about pain; sadness; loss; heartbreak; sorrow; the exploration of life; the human spirit; the strength of the human heart. But most of all, this is a poem about love; more importantly; falling in, being in and enjoying love. This poem is dedicated to and is about a woman, but not just any woman; this poem is about a woman that no man could ever possibly forget. Not always will this poem make sense, and at times it may even be contradictory, repetitious and obtuse, but always, always, will it be forever true. The human heart is an ocean of many, many different stories, and I would like to share with you, dear reader, one now. I do hope you enjoy this romantic tale as you ride upon the waves of this verse.
I just managed, I believe from a miracle, to successfully take back my health.
I’m so happy, I’m so heartfelt, I’m so hung over – I really just can’t help myself;
I need to confess something that has been weighing on my mind, there’s something I need to tell
someone, and it goes something like this; I could kiss you for hours on end when the rain fell,
I could hug you in the middle of a storm; I could keep you warm in the dark of the night,
I could look upon your beauty for centuries, I could stroke your skin come morning light.
I could take a photo of your flawlessness and hold onto it forever,
I could fight for you and die for you if it meant we could just be together;
I could serenade you with empowered words of love by day and cook you dinner when the moon arises.
I could grace you with everything, and even after a hundred years still astonish you with surprises.
I could board an aeroplane today and be with you tomorrow just to give you a kiss,
and confess, that never have I tasted anything as sweet as your crimson lips, young Miss.
You know that feeling – when you have lost love, and then you find it again in the heart of another oh so rapidly?
That feeling – that intense, obnoxious, amazingly fantastical, intense feeling is what has overpowered me.
I was lying down in the centre of the empty suburban street one night – love had officially hung up on me,
when I suddenly received a call – and upon answering, guess who spoke – a woman of unbelievable beauty!
She was older than I, and with the exception of two amazing times I had never fallen for an older person,
but I tell you, struck down, by lighting I was, for I could not, and still cannot, quit thinking about this beautiful woman.
Maybe I ain’t as strong as I would hope, after all, I ain’t built from metal and other strong stuff.
I try to get close to you, young lady, but every time I do so it ain’t nearly close enough,
for I cannot let you go. I look up at the clear dark night, and I can see the moon,
and I know you can see her too, and I hope the two of us can be together soon
for when either of us look up at the great sky from where we are, whether it be day or night it is always the same. If that’s the case, then we both must be on the planet Earth,
and so it would be just so easy, wouldn’t it, for us to meet somewhere? You can set the location, I really don’t care where; be it Washington, London, Tokyo or Perth.
In the end, unlovable is but one word that can describe a fallen soul,
and it is a word that can describe me for instead of a heart, I’ve a hole,
for pain is the unrelenting punishment that is forced upon me as a result of being alive,
and I have come to realise that sooner or later the pain will win out and I will not survive.
Perhaps that’s for the better. Maybe when I’m dead and gone nobody will grieve, and nobody will cry,
and maybe there will be many a happy person on the planet Earth on the day that I do die.
Perhaps every acquaintance I’ve ever met will feel a sense of joy running up and down their spine
which will alert them to the arguably obvious fact that the death they felt was indeed mine.
In the eyes of some certain people I may be a hideous, unpopular, unlovable creature,
and perhaps if I be honest I may say that I might not be blessed with a single attractive feature,
and like I said before, maybe death be good, for there is honestly without a knowable doubt nothing left,
for my heart is broken and barely operating and I remain barely human and utterly bereft.
As a man myself, I can speak from experience; once you fall out of love, you always set your sights on the one woman you cannot acquire.
In your eyes, I want to be seen as a man with an actual heartbeat and a possibility for romance rather than a feared pariah.
I am not asking you to fall in love with me at first sight, but I am asking for a single chance;
not to experience a fairytale, but to have a stereotypical legitimate romance
which is quintessential to the soul. Human beings in general are social creatures, I know this for a fact,
which is why, even after so much pain and bludgeoning, my heart and soul have remained totally intact
as to have a relationship once more. Perhaps this time it will be forever, perhaps this time it will be with you,
and I hope that in the very near and hopefully possible future you might be able to feel the same way too,
for I have been in love before, and I am aware of this just as I am aware of my constant heartbeat,
and whenever I see you I have this powerful feeling which begins in my chest before it consumes me from my head to my feet.
I can understand if this sounds absurd, but I have no intention of ever hiding the truth in regards to love, and my feelings I will not deny,
and to be with you, I will do anything that you ask; I will plead; I will beg; I will write; I will draw; I will with pleasure live; and I will gladly die.
It all began with a blog on the social media platform known only as WordPress.
Never in all my years did I believe the content that I had developed could impress
the eyes of a beautiful woman to come looking over all that I had done,
and in that specific moment my heart, you, young lady, had officially won
and so, in regards to your own meticulous work, I became a loyal, unflinching follower,
one of oh so many it would seem. It was not long after I was transformed into a lover
of your face; of your smooth features; of your sacred flesh. My eyes, they lit up like a great menagerie of fire-
flies transcending across the sky in the darkness of the night as I looked upon the woman I now desire
with an untold passion that burns more brightly than the sun, creeping across the horizon in the wee hours of the morning,
and just like that, my heart cried out for something impossible; it cried out for something more as a new love affair was dawning
upon the path that is my life. I knew then just as I know now that these feelings are never going to leave.
I assure you, you can trust me and my many words; all you need do is look into my eyes and believe.
Love is love I say, and so do many others, and love is but hard to find;
love is the one thing that is always without question on my heart, soul and mind
when I think of you. What name could have hath been given to a woman of such brilliance, a woman who in a million years I could not forget?
What emotions could be conjured by the heart of a romantic? However we are just friends for the moment, I swear, nothing has happened yet.
Love is always and forever the one intended endeavour, it is the only necessary task
to gain, and when someone finally discovers their one and only, people poke them with questions and ask
‘are you having fun yet?’ and the answer always is ‘yeah, yeah’.
People always warn me about love, they say ‘buyer beware’,
but I can take care of myself, really, I can take care of my own,
is it too much to ask for some love, I am tired of being all alone
and I would do absolutely anything to succeed in this fruitful desire
and prove how I’m capable of being your man, of being your merciful messiah.
Cupid visited me in my dreams last night; she didn’t look the way I had thought
she might as she instructed me that there was something that I absolutely ought
to do with my life, which included; settling down, finding a good job and acquiring a partner;
a girlfriend, an individual who was more than excellent to be my one significant other.
When I awoke this morning I could not possibly fathom if the plan had been set in motion,
all I knew was that if my heart was anything it was a terrifically wide, deep blue ocean
that is willing and able to belong to something good, like a passionate relationship, someone new,
like a young woman beyond anything upon this planet we call Earth, and I know that woman is you.
I realise I have not done what was supposed to be initially orchestrated,
for it is something different entirely that I have undoubtedly promulgated,
for Cupid had intended for me to have a grand relationship with an Australian,
and instead I wish to have be romantically involved with a certain Arizonian.
There was a time when angels would walketh the Earth, and still they do as depicted by the image of this gorgeous American
from Phoenix Arizona, who has undeniably captured the loving heart, mind and eyes of this Australian citizen,
for my soul will be but forever forfeit if my soul will be not always yours,
and I would do anything to hold you, to kiss you and to do other things and more,
for the word ‘gorgeous’ is but a word, and it barely scratches the surface of your physicality,
and I don’t think a word hath been invented to articulate what you will forever mean to me.
There was a time once when I was unsure what you were to me, but no longer do I have to make my heart choose,
for I want you in my heart, there’s nothing left to say, for I could never just have you as a plausible muse.
To hide this huge secret of mine, I could provide to you a suitable pseudonym rather than to call you by your actual name,
for such does not matter to me because regardless of your identity, masquerade or not, I would personally still feel the same.
I am at a crossroads; I hope my words don’t seem too expensive ma’am, and I hope they don’t sound too cheap,
because your intricately stunning and elegant beauty, it runs so intoxicatingly deep.
My heart is a dictionary on everything in regards to passion,
for my heart is as wide and free as the never ending, open ocean,
and I can promise there is nothing I am not aware of, there is not a thing that I do lack,
and all you need to do is say the word and I’ll gladly follow you, my darling, to Hell and back,
cuz you are an exotic paradise I have never had the opportunity to explore,
and the loving dream I had last night of being with you, I long to have right down to the very core
of my beating heart. Within the dream last night, I was lost within one helluva escapade;
I had in the process of seeing you lost both my mind and my head from where they had once laid
atop my neck. Upon waking I was happy; I wanted to return, and I’ll say again, I will follow you to the ends of this Earth,
because of everything that I have ever seen and have experienced, of everything that I am aware of, you are undeniably worth
it. All that is required from you, my dear, is that you call my name, and upon doing so, I’ll gladly be there,
be it any place on the atlas, any time of the year, or absolutely, unequivocally anywhere.
I have known you for only a couple months, but a couple months are all I will ever need
to quench my undeniable thirst for loving romance, to bring a stopper to all my greed
for a heart to be connected romantically only to mine for the rest of time,
and to enjoy the kind of love found in a fairytale or in a nursery rhyme.
I could follow you without question to the ends of this Earth
for your words, like treasure, have an unquantifiable worth,
and your photos that you choose to share and upload to your blog frequently make me smile.
If I had the digits for the All Night Radio Love Line their number I would dial
and I’d ask them to play the song ‘I knew I loved you’ by Savage Garden
for you to hear, cuz my beating heart you have without permission taken,
for I was powerless against you with your words of wisdom and your looks of beauty.
Miss; would you ever consider going out on a date with a guy the likes of me?
I listen to the living world around me; to its traffic; to its cities; to its nature; to its ambience,
as I gaze into the affectionately passionate eyes of unequivocal, virginal innocence
that can be described as a sweetness of extraordinary prowess that cannot be tamed,
which belongs to the truest of all true beauties, that cannot ever on paper be named.
If I had a flower for every time I had thought of you, then I do suppose all the flower’s in the world I would need to pluck,
and if you blow a man a kiss from your crimson lips, I hope only for his sake, he’d better know to immediately duck,
because if your looks can captivate anyone, then imagine what just one kiss could do,
for there is nobody else in this world who I know to be quite as ravishing as you,
for I have seen your life written in photos, drawings and literature within the pages of your great blog,
and it always breaks through the walls around my heart, the brain barriers and the many immense layers of fog
that exists within my mind. Your words are always warm and inviting, and your photo’s are exceptionally great,
and I don’t know if I ever did believe in angels in Heaven, but after looking upon your face, I certainly without a doubt believe in fate.
I have never met you, and I probably never will,
but even with this said, my feelings, they grow stronger still.
I’d ask if we might have dinner, if it wasn’t an issue,
see, the one thing in all the world I want, is spelt ‘y’, ‘o’, ‘u’;
but dinner is not ever going to be option for there’s an ocean in the way,
we won’t be having dinner tomorrow, we won’t be having dinner any other day.
I’ll admit, perhaps I’m totally crazy, I realise that I’m a fool,
for I know I’m probably not that popular and I know I ain’t that cool,
but even with these many words writ and read, I want with you something special; an unbelievably amazing romance
that could sweep you off your feet, and I’d say ‘screw it’ to anything that stood in my way for I’d give everything for a chance
to kiss your oh so unfathomably gorgeous crimson lips on a starry moonlit night;
I know I’m not awesome, but perhaps I can prove that I’m the one; that I’m your Mr. Right.
‘Kiss me darling’ I would say to you, ‘touch me’, ‘let me know I’m real;
you are all I truly want, and all that I long to do is feel
your beating heart’, for you are all I ever seem to care
about, and to have you, I call upon the winged prayer
of a Heavenly angel, and I call on Jesus Christ himself
to give unto me the power and to provide to me the wealth
to offer you a marvellous life filled with all you will ever truly need,
and to have you, I’ll face off with the volcano’s edge and I will burn and bleed,
for I must admit, I am through with this façade, this fabrication if you will, and no false truth will ever make do,
than to have the single most gorgeous woman on all the Earth in my arms today, to forever and always have you,
because I do not dare wish to be relegated to a forgotten bitter memory in your eventual past or visualised as just another Facebook friend,
but at the same time I am morbidly terrified that by making any sudden moves, whatever I already have with you may come to an unforeseeable end.
Have I spoken out of just term? Have I been impolite and said too much?
Sometimes I can be like that, being a soporific romantic and such,
but do not ever think my words aren’t real, don’t ever think they are not true;
do not think for but one second that I do not have strong feelings for you.
For I write this piece filled with many rhymes and stanzas for you and only you,
and perhaps I should not confess to this, but I haven’t said all that I want to,
for there’s unfortunately still much weighing upon my heart and still there’s much weighing on my chest;
I must say all that needs to be said, else I promise I will never again be able to rest,
and although there’s but a couple sentences left, due to their content, I wish to say them to you in person.
I wish that the opportunity I seek indeed had the possibility of coming to fruition,
for certain words are better spoken rather than scrawled across the page from several hundred miles away;
and what I wish to express begins and ends with this promise my lady, ‘I will love you every day.’
I feel you are level headed, or is that fear that I be feeling whenever I passionately think of such rare beauty,
who I fear may take one look at the stanzas past and present and may begin to loathe, and perhaps even be frightened of me.
On that note, just remember, I’m a Scorpio, and like any good scorpion I might be aggressive but I will love you forever;
we don’t have to passionately kiss; we don’t have to lovingly hug; we don’t have to romantically touch; we don’t have to be together
because my feelings will never change. I remember everyone I have loved, and I still love them with all my heart and my soul,
and you, young lady, needn’t ever be jealous or scared, because you are the one piece that I require to be heart and whole,
for I really truly love you, more than you could ever fathom, believe or even know;
my only wish is that there was a way to let my uncontrollably strong feelings show.
I do not mean on a piece of paper, or over the internet; I am way past that;
I want to stand beside you and temporarily remove from you your broad brimmed straw hat,
so I could have direct access to your face, and touch your skin with my fingertips,
and just when I believe things couldn’t be any better I’d gently kiss your lips.
If I were to suddenly find myself at the end of my life’s journey on the hour of my death,
the last words I want to say that linger upon my rich, rose coloured lips as I take my last breath
would be your name, before you bestow upon me with your crimson lips an amazing kiss of life,
that immediately removes from me and my existence inevitable impending strife
as to allow me the gift of living just a little longer to look upon your beauty some more.
I can assure you, although I don’t know how, you are the love of my life that I have been searching for,
but for now, I will hide my feelings where they cannot be seen or found, and I will simply pretend,
that I am not infatuated with you, no, I’ll make myself look like another blogger friend
until the day I am given the opportunity to tear down this unshakable masquerade,
and in my heart on this blessed occasion will be held a terrifically romanticised parade
unlike any other, that will put every romanticised event of the heart held before it to immeasurable shame.
I only wish, that if this were a love story, as I wish it were, that at the end, like a fairytale, your gorgeous heart I could claim.
You, my lady, are like gravity; you are like the wind; you are like the air
I breathe. I can never see you, but I know deep down that you are always there,
and if you were to concentrate, you would feel me too; that gentle warmth running across your shoulder –
that is me holding onto you, soothing you, pleasuring you, as the nights grow a little colder,
for you look upon the same moon as I, and your face is illuminated by the exact same sun,
and just like I know that these words I write are one hundred percent whole and true, I know you are the one
for me. But perhaps you have been hurt, and if such be true, I do apologise, but what you hypothetically had with a last partner was not love,
so I beg of you, blame it only on the man who was a fool to ever harm such fair beauty, but blame it not on the Heavens in the sky above
for the horrific pain that your little heart should not have had, but was forced to endure
every waking minute, for true love is all you’ll ever need-true love’s the only cure
to your pain. Now, I realise I don’t know you as well as I should – in fact I probably don’t know much at all really, but I do know one thing to be true;
young lady, I really, truly, undoubtedly, unfathomably, passionately have the strongest of all strong feelings for your heart, because ma’am, I love you.
I cannot imagine that you were ever born on Earth, so I guess you must be a member of fairer Heaven,
for I am but a shipwreck stranded at sea, and you are my lighthouse guiding me home; my precious blonde haired beacon.
I fear I have been without a certain someone, a certain paramour, for far too long now, and in doing so perhaps my words are sounding desperate,
and this in turn may be why I have decidedly fallen for the woman whose beauty is so astronomical that she deserves the certificate
for been the most beautiful woman in all the known universe, and on the night that you do win, so would be a time for the most expensive wine
to be drunk in cause of this epic celebration, for never was there a woman so elegant, so luscious, so amazing or so divine.
I wish that I, like Peter Pan could fly up towards the Heavens, and that you young lady, could be my Wendy, or perhaps a Tinkerbell,
for never would there be a better story than the one about how I feel for you, never would there be a story I would want to tell
more so than this, for I cannot help but want you, even if I initially only wished to have myself a gorgeous muse,
because out of the three billion something women in all the world around us, you are the one I would always happily choose
to be forever mine. My only wish is that you quit writing; no more journaling; no more poetry; no more prose,
for you writing is so seductive; second thoughts, please keep writing, for I could not live without your words I do suppose.
I wonder if there could ever be a time when you could look back and remember who I was.
Maybe I would have meant something to you deep inside, maybe not too. I only ask because
you’re gorgeous, you really are; never in all my years have I had the pleasure of having a fairer face reflected in my hazel pupils,
and when I think of you my heart beats faster, I find it hard to breathe, and certain parts of my body become harder, including my nipples.
Moreover I do believe I know the identities of a couple other men who have fallen in love with you;
there is a boy in a hat, a man whose name starts with a ‘D’ and a few others who have remained anonymous too.
Now, hypothetically, if you were to choose to have a romance fuelled relationship with one of us (I know you won’t, but sill, if you were)
please, I implore you to take my advice when I say; choose any man that you wish, for that is your prerogative, just don’t choose this young sir.
I do not say such words with confidence, nor do I say them with ease, but with a heartbreakingly weak sigh,
for I believe these men could offer you more, and maybe have more love in their hearts, and with that thought, goodbye.
If there’s one thing I want you to realise, it’s that I love you, this I need you to know,
because it is said by many a man that when you love someone you have to let them go.
I wonder if the someone I am writing about here is reading these words right now.
My powers of prediction are less than adequate, but I wish this were true somehow.
‘Neither of us have met’ you might state, before asking ‘how can you fall for someone who lives on the other side of the world?’
and I would graciously reply in response ‘you are intelligent, you are so gifted, you are cute and you are a girl;
that’s all I’m looking for, that I’m certain of, that’s what I know,
so, please don’t leave me be, please, young lady, do not let me go.’
I wish there was zero chance of you leaving me behind and quite the opposite of you staying where you are, but I know that’s just reckless, blind, hope,
masquerading as the impeccable ability that which I have ignorantly and egotistically created that can help me cope.
I agree; my feelings may be a lot of things – delusional, deranged, insane perhaps – but they need no explanation,
for in all the world; in all its beauty; in all its contents; in all its uniqueness, you are my wanted destination,
for I feel that I need you the way I need to breathe; the way I need to drink; the way I need to eat and I am certain that all of you reading this can relate when I admit how I have a constant dire need for oxygen,
just as I have a dire need for you. As for your identity, here’s a clue; your name begins with the third letter of the alphabet, or perhaps the tenth; other than that, I ain’t admitting to anything without a reason.
You can’t make someone love you; it’s an unfortunate fact I’ve found, but someone can make you love them with but a twitch of their eye,
or perhaps a smile, a light hearted giggle or an intelligent quote, and then you know without them, your heart and soul will die.
Upon finding you, I will love to run my hand through your exotic hair and stare into your utterly ravishing blue eyes,
that are as clear, flawless and amazing as the Heavens that hang above me, and the never ending cloud free cerulean skies
and even though the truth might always times infinity be that we are a couple hundred thousand miles apart,
the distance, it don’t really matter, for there is nothing ever between us because you are always in my heart.
I’d run a thousand miles just to hear you say my real name, for you know I’m not a ‘Derek’, no, I’m a ‘Nicholas’,
and even though my words may seem oddly strange, I can forever assure you that my feeling’s ain’t ridiculous.
Now, I know I’m not the only man who feels such feelings; there are many men who crave you, and they number in the millions,
and every single one of them is vying for your gorgeous beating heart, your flawless love and your undying affection.
However, I will want them to know, that I am a ravenous wolf, hungry for passionate love, and without you my dear, I will eventually starve,
and I am so greedy and conniving that I do not wish to share you; I want you alive and whole and I irrefutably refuse to go halves.
Many a man on this Earth will dream of something, and my dream is to be with you. I will be but yours, all you hath do is say the word and you can have your way with me and do with me what you will.
Like a plastic figurine, you can contort my frame into a menagerie of odd shapes; you can twist and turn me in and out, and if it shall be your command you could harm, injure or even kill
me, for as long as I am with you, any moment will be but beautiful, for we both shall be side by side,
and nothing could make me feel more alive; nothing could be more magical; nothing could provide me with such pride
and happiness as I am girt by your love, and you with mine forevermore in a moment truly more marvellous than anything imagined
by anyone with a creative heart, soul and mind, because I do not believe such would be pure happenstance; I believe we are but destined
to be together. However, proven am I, a romantic already, and I fear my heart be but contaminated with such failed logic,
but even with such written words placed upon this blank page, I know deep within myself that to be with you tonight would absolutely do the trick.
But could you ever truly lower yourself to be with someone of lower standing, aptitude and grace,
who would gladly come after you with all that he has, but if the tables were reversed, you would not give chase,
because you are you and I am me and I tremble with real fear at the general idea that the angel Cupid did not want for me to feel emotions that were ever quite so powerful, quite so delusional, or quite so wild,
but just know – if you ever want to love a man who you can rely upon to never fall out of love with you (unless Tara Mokhtari falls for me which is highly unlikely), just call the name of this lover, just call for Derek Childs.
Ma’am, I am no Roman Payne; I ain’t no Brad Pitt, and I am no Ryan Gosling,
and by the conclusion of this day, I will not be the man you shall be kissing.
Like all the other many men infatuated with you, we be but early foot soldiers in the war for your love,
for never was there a more beautiful woman in all existence than the one who hath fallen from Heaven above.
Like a falling star, you bring about many a positive feeling, a sense of hope and longing and all round good fortune,
and I take my one and only opportune chance to make the wish I dream to be mine beneath the light of the crescent moon,
in the hope that one day perhaps I could be an object of desire, longing and affection in your handsome heart,
and if good luck be bestowed upon me, forever shall a love affair be kindled and never shall we be apart,
because I do believe that a dream depicting you would be beyond delightful, but a life with you would be oh so much better,
because I cannot imagine anything more fascinating than spending time with the young woman I want to be with forever,
because you truly are, as far as I can honestly tell, without a single flaw you inhuman Godlike seductress. I do not just think such thoughts, I know them for a fact, because you are physically, mentally and spiritually beautiful, and have a beautiful soul and smile as well, and I find myself wondering, would you too be a beautiful kisser?
I would very much appreciate the opportunity to taste the flavour of your kiss and discover the truth of this for myself, but I definitely doubt that anyone as amazing as you could be anything but fabulous in this regard, for there has not ever been a woman who captivated me so the likes of Lady Ginger.
I may have to warn you now before you acquire the wrong impression, I have always been attracted to women who were a little older,
and the intense feelings I have for you dear heart linger on inside me like an immovable object; an incredibly ignoramus boulder,
for you have captured my love heart effortlessly and now with all your talent, you perform like an eccentric ballerina upon its centre stage,
and at day’s end I’m certain of love and I realise I don’t care about the differences, just as I know it would be impolite to ask your age,
just like it would be deviously nefarious of I to ask about your religion; your culture; your background,
besides, none of this affects nor concerns me because true love and beauty I have inevitably, finally found,
but in any case, I do not give a darn about the multitude of differences that separate us so, and all I really care
about is you, always and forever unto the end of time, I will love thee; the woman with the radiance of a solar flare
and I need not stress again how deeply I feel for you, cuz I’ve stressed it numerously over the course of this truthfully honest piece.
I probably have no need articulating your beauty as I already have and my feelings are obviously not going to cease,
and now, I add, this mild mannered man, this dubious author, this aspiring poet, will ask that you please,
consider granting me the chance, and allow me to be your lover, your fighter, your heart’s romantic disease.
I swear to you, I will not ever go quietly into that good night
and I will not ever give up without putting up a tremendous fight
until I have confessed to you all that is weighing so heavily upon my body, heart and mind,
regardless of whether you feel my words are redundant for within them the truth you shall always find.
However, I will admit to you now, I don’t know how to articulate my feelings, I don’t know what to say,
all I know is that you are beautiful; you are incredibly sweet; you are attractive with a capital ‘A’
and a gargantuan explanation point at the end, and I know that what I am feeling is love, I am absolutely sure,
and I am unequivocally certain that in all the world, no one else could ever have such strong feelings or ever love you more,
even though you speak of already being in love. If this be true, then my heart is weighed with much sorrow as I confess that your lover, he is a very lucky guy,
and I hope he realises this, for many a man would agree that it would be so easy to make the decision to do anything, even if that meant to die
to be where he’s standing now – with you; the single most gorgeous woman in all the world, both physically, spiritually and every other way imaginable. I do not say these words lightly; I speak only from the heart and my heart does not dare develop wild illusions nor ever communicate with a forked tongue.
Even if you do not accept me, and I am certain that you won’t and I understand why, I will have you know; a millennia from now someone may read this verse, and in these words they will read of you; your beauty; your intellect; your graciousness; your skills; for in this verse you are, forever and always alive – and young.
The conclusion; the epilogue if you will; the final piece of the puzzle must always be as elegant as the story that came before it as to allow the reader to feel complete. I haven’t the words to succeed in this endeavour, so allow me to simply write; if you have a certain someone that does not know how you feel for them – be sure to tell them you are in love tonight.
Thank you for reading these words dear reader.
For anyone who has read my former poem ‘Untitled Beauty’, one would know that I based the piece upon a beautiful young woman who dressed up as Jedi Master Aayla Secura from the Star Wars universe for a ComicCon. I do not know her true identity, and I would really appreciate it if someone in the world could actually tell me such information…the link to the image and additional info on this topic can be found in the ‘end notes’ section of the original Untitled Beauty post which can be found at this link: http://wp.me/p24LWs-2H
This here is not a love poem – no, it is a poem of longing,
about hope, prayer, fantasy, discovering oneself and belonging,
which begins as every morning inevitably does. The light breaks through a moderate sized hole in the wall; the ominous ‘they’ call it a window,
but I call it a distraction, for it wakes me from my slumber where I dream I strike up a conversation with a rare beauty by saying ‘hello’,
rare beauty who is you. All the money in the world cannot buy me another minute in this fabulous fantasy,
where I kissed your sumptuously luscious and tender lips and you held onto my big, broad shoulders oh so delicately,
and I fear, the only way to experience this moment once again, is to physically find you and express
‘you are the only lover Untitled Beauty I have been frequently and hopelessly attempting to impress,
for you are the only young woman in all the world, if not the known universe I am constantly thinking of,
my sumptuously delightful lady of whom I hope to forever and always unconditionally love.
It is true, and it is a fact that I do not dare deny, that never have either of us yet met,
but even with that said, you are a young beauty I can never easily in all my years forget,
and if I am supposed to move on from this fantasy, where am I supposed to move on to?
for no one else in this great round world could ever tame this heart of mine for no one else is you.
Additionally, if I am supposed to move on, where am I supposed to go?
for you are the single greatest adventure of all time that I will ever know.
It is also true that I do not know your name, but, my darling, it is a two way street. You could ask ‘what name do you go by?’ and I’d reply ‘you may call me Naughty Nefarious’
and a giggle may suddenly spring forth from the corner of your mouth. I swear it is no joke, for a name is a name, and mine is mine, for my world becomes so much more delicious
the second I lay my eyes upon your pretty face. I feel so invulnerable, but the truth of it all is, I really ain’t all that tough,
and I fear that those three words that mean so much, but also so little, for they are said too often, in regards to you, I have not said enough.
Ma’am, I am certain you grew up in America, where as I’m from down under, from a state far adjacent to that of Perth,
and it would most definitely seem from our noble beginnings when we were born, God wanted to give us both quite the wide berth.
I dedicated my life to writing and gaining a doctorate, whilst you dedicated yours to staying at home,
loyally watching over your loving family with respect, like an unflinching, always trustworthy garden gnome.
In your spare time you use your remarkably athletic form and go dancing in the grim shadows,
whilst back in Australia, not everything is the stereotypical gullies and meadows.
However, what the two of us have in common are the numerous stars that we watch at night, and the clouds all black and blue;
that unusually warm touch you feel right now upon your shoulders young lady – that’s me, romantically thinking about you,
for I frequently hunger for your passionate affection, and I swear I’ll starve without you near,
and I wish we weren’t separated by oceans and continents, I wish you were with me right here.
I often wonder what is happening with the world, and where the old one I once knew and loved inevitably went,
and why all of the once potent emotion is being poured into pain and horror, and if it is emotion well spent.
What happened to the age old conception ‘treat others the way you want to be treated’?
for in this world, truth justice and mercy are sacrificed, and true love is defeated.
I hope this inevitability ain’t my fate, and if so, I ask you, give me another toss at the game of luck, give me a second chance,
for although I ain’t no proud patriot who can fight through thick and thicker, I am a strong believer in emotion, reminiscence and romance,
and I can assure you, I would bleed on the Union Jack to make sure the faithful stripes stay bright red.
No matter whether I’m alive or in my time of dying, I feel there’s nothing more to be said,
but I would ask that you do not become overburdened with sad and depressing emotions and burst into tears for me, and that you happily smile in remembrance instead,
and if the world was plunged into war tomorrow, I would participate if it meant I could keep dreaming about you inside my head.
When imagining a fantasy world in which we know one another I can picture a location of common place where you’re listening to Metallica
over the radio, their awesome rock n’ roll classics ripping through the speakers as you loyally jam to their tunes, before introducing yourself as ‘Aayla.’
It must be an expensive persona you are living as we attempt to guess your origins. ‘No’ you say, ‘I ain’t from Launceston, and I ain’t from Maribyrnong.
No, I am from nowhere near here. Instead, I come from a different place entirely with traditional working man roots, where Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Wrecking Ball’ is the theme song;
where the widely renown Star Wars theme is sung every night before dinner;
where the biggest loser can almost always become the biggest winner.
That’s right ladies and gents, I come from the mighty United States, and I will certainly return there soon,
so if you’ve something to tell me I suggest you confess it real quick, and by that, I mean this afternoon,
cuz come tomorrow I’ll be long gone, and young man, you especially, will be left on your own,
and being a pure blooded California gal and a pseudo Australian I can tell you twice, it’s awful cold when you are all alone.’
I have this uncanny feeling inside my heart and soul, one where I believe legitimately to have already lost you once, but I promise I won’t lose you again twice,
and to this I can assure you to ensure my promise fulfilled, I will commit to anything you ask of me and do whatever you say and I would take any advice,
no matter how fruitless it may seem, for I am officially sick of being alone, and all of this empty space;
I am sick to my stomach at being away from you and wherever you want I will meet you, any time or place.
For if feeling good is a crime (and I’ve never felt this good until I laid my eyes upon you), someone had better lock me up right now cuz I feel fantastic,
and in regards to all of your truth and beauty, and all the love in your gorgeous heart, I have officially become an addict
for you. But when it comes to love, perhaps I am simply and without a doubt incompetent
cuz I fall madly in love way too easily. Then again, perhaps I am a delinquent
for failing to expertly spot the difference between human life, unconditional never ending love and horrifying misery,
but even with this said, if I were to die tomorrow, I would never want to go to Heaven, unless you were up there waiting for me.
To have you rare angel, I will delve deep into formidable places where no hero dare goes,
and upon hearing this you might reply ‘really? Well, tell me Pinocchio, how long is your nose?’
I am no liar, you have to believe me when I say I think I love you, and to ensure your survival, I’d push you out of the way of a nuke.
You won’t ever need to be a fabulously rich duchess for me to love you, but if you were, and you were to ask of me, I’d gladly be your duke.
After hearing these words Untitled Beauty, it might be best that you throw away your key after locking all your windows, and barring all the doors,
and make a pact with Satan, or pray to whomever God you solely believe in, for no existing mortal entity can save you anymore
from my love, which is invulnerable to harm. However, in reality, I have to ask you, in regards to romance, how can it be a good thing if those we love are doomed to die,
after pledging all of our allegiances and our love into their lives, and rare angels such as yourself succumb to destiny and perish, before plummeting out from the falling sky?
But if this unfortunate fate were to become yours, to get you back, I can assure you, I would traverse through the village of the damned,
if it meant eternal happiness could return to me again, and I could one day have my loving heart safely under your command.
When the world is at its darkest, and I’m drowning in the depression of the rain
I simply sit back and gladly admire your beautiful picture once again,
and imagine what you might ask me if we were to meet. You’d enquire ‘Derek, Naughty, whatever title you choose to go by’, before asking what I am going to do for you,
and I’d truthfully reply ‘I would take the stars right out of the night sky if such an act could prove my love alive and whole, and I would paint ‘em pink and purple and even pure gold too!’
It may sound completely out of this world insane, but what I say is not a total fabrication, and it certainly ain’t a ruse;
if given but one opportunity to spend my life with anyone, you are the only person I’d always faithfully choose,
because sweet Aayla impersonator, you are without a doubt one in 7.4 billion.
Dressing up in all those outfits moreover, you look exactly like a saucy chameleon;
you look incredible; you look beyond inhuman; you look flawless; you are perfect undoubtedly,
and with those luscious red lips and that sugar sweet smile I just know you are destined to belong with me.
Sometimes the darkness wakes me up and sometimes the silence speaks so loudly it is deafening to behold,
for whenever I am without you Untitled Beauty, I suddenly feel so indescribably cold,
because it is only in your eyes that I believe I have found where I eternally belong
and never until this moment which stands before me now have I felt so immeasurably strong.
However, in this inhospitable place, I fear I might be labeled the interloper, or the pariah
because of you my darling, for being all that I’ll ever want, all that I’ll ever need; for being my eternal desire,
and, to put a stop to this, people may light up their torches and sharpen their pitchforks too, before coming to claim me,
and will point to those who can corroborate that it was I, the antagonist, who acted with such vile villainy,
for all the boys who look upon you are filled with lustful gluttony, and the women become so jealous
at your unfathomable angelic beauty, and as for I, you make me so romantically ravenous.
Remember when I said this was not a love poem my dear? Well, I have to admit that perhaps I lied,
and if such be the case you could always blame it on the demon I have within this heart of mine inside.
I can assure you, I do not write these words in order to gain power, and I will certainly never need the likes of money or fame,
especially after I win over your beautiful beating heart, for then I will have everything I’ll ever need once it’s you I claim,
and although I still don’t quite know you, from your personality to your values, from your general likes and the neighborhood
you grew up in, judging by your looks alone, you deserve to be erected centre stage in the middle of Hollywood,
and then, once I’ve identified who you are and more, as promised, I’ll spend my life staring lovingly into your eyes forever.
The chance, if even there was one which I doubt, of me falling out of love with you my darling rests somewhere between naught and never,
so if you have ever had grave concerns, I ask that you ‘don’t fret, don’t cry and don’t ever believe
that feelings from your heart unto mine is not the one thing that I have always wanted to achieve.’
THANK YOU FOR READING!