Blog Archives

Dear Kat de Lieva Part 2

This is a love poem to Canadian actress Kat de Lieva, separated into five chapters of varying length and style which continues on from the original poem which can be found at this link: . Before I begin the poem though, I thought I would discuss the techniques and reasons behind this particular piece.

On one hand I do suppose some could argue that I have no right to write this poem. I would argue however that a vast quantity of people use a multitude of alternate social media channels to communicate with celebrities that they appreciate, from the profiles that the celebrities themselves run, to their fan clubs. Instead of placing my general appreciation into a 140 character tweet, a message on a Facebook page or a forum post, I am generating it in poetic format here.

With regards to the rhyme scheme in chapters 1,2,4 and 5, it is a mandate that every couplet has the same number of syllables and every stanza in the same chapter has the exact number of lines. During the third chapter which employs the free verse style, each line is approximately a maximum length of seven centimeters, and any word that would defy this rule is immediately assigned a new line.

Moreover, if I were writing a poem for an ordinary, stereotypical individual I may go a little overboard, but since I am writing about an extraordinary woman, I think I may have periodically become a little too eager within my stanzas to reveal my appreciation for this particular celebrity.

Moving on, the second chapter in the poem was originally conceived as the first, but I swapped them around in order to have an alternate introduction. The second chapter focuses a lot more on feelings and not on Kat de Lieva herself, and since I am writing a poem about someone, I felt it best that the opening reflects who this someone is, and by introducing my interpretation of Ms. de Lieva, I do believe the rest of the poem is able to flow on from there.

However, I am almost a little ashamed by the number of references I deliver with regards to Ms. de Lieva’s appearance during the first chapter, but as I do not have the honor of knowing this young woman, I am unable to make qualified assertions about other aspects of her person and sadly had to focus on what I could recognise and make educated assumptions from there. I only hope I did not come off looking like someone who cares only for the physical aspects of an individual.

Furthermore, at the beginning of the second chapter I reference how I will not be taking ‘the next Canadian flight’, which is a deliberate insertion into the piece to verify that I am not a stalker – well, I hope not. To further this notion, this here will be the last poem that I write about Kat de Lieva; not because I have run out of ideas, but because I think I can be forgiven for writing two poems, but anymore would in all likelihood be morally wrong.

Over the course of the poem I deliberately avoid using profanities or references that are overly sexual. In the context of this piece, not only do I believe such content is unnecessary, but it would no doubt be blatantly vulgar too. I however cannot accurately state, and so have to hope, that my content is free of any material than readers may take offense at.

Moreover, regarding why I wrote this piece, there is in fact not one reason, but two. One, I believe Kat de Lieva to be outstandingly inspirational, however, at the end of the day, I do believe that poetry is written for a reason. In the case of a love poem, I feel it is written to seduce the individual it is written for; to woo them into considering a relationship with the writer. However, I think we all know that unless an actor has a lobotomy, I cannot imagine any of them ever dating an infatuated fan; but stranger things have happened.

The second reason behind the orchestration of the piece is as follows. I cannot be certain, but I think I received the honor of having Ms. de Lieva read at least a portion of my original poem, and I assume this because she made a note of it on Twitter. At the time I happened to see this particular tweet, in her profile, Ms. de Lieva mentioned something along the lines of ‘I think I am a nice person’. When I saw this, I immediately wondered how a woman such as herself is unable to discern whether or not she is nice. I guess in my own way I just wanted Ms. de Lieva to know that she needn’t be unsure about anything in general because from what I can tell, and I am sure thousands of people will agree, everything about her seems exceptionally nice, and I don’t know what she sees when she looks in the mirror, but these words convey what I have seen. I wanted her to know that even on days when perhaps the darkness is impenetrable; even on days when there is no end to pain or tyranny, Ms. de Lieva has fans who appreciate and love her, and unfortunately, one of those fans happens to be this nut case.

Lastly, if you wish, you can leave a comment in the section at the bottom of this piece. If you’re not associated with WordPress, your comment will more than likely end up in my spam filter (which I check approximately once a week), so you may be as bluntly honest as you wish about this particular poem and never have to worry about the general public viewing your opinion.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the poem.

Chapter 1: To the Beautiful Young Actress who makes Aphrodite Crimson with raw Jealousy

Dear Ms. de Lieva, how many a man do you believe has fallen undoubtedly in love with you?
One look at your hospitable face and it should be known that the feelings could never be more true,
for but a glimmer of your ravishing beauty makes my retinas bleed,
and deep inside my heart my soul cries out, you are the woman that I need.
Currently I have feelings for you; as I did yesterday and shall again tomorrow,
and the interpretation I have orchestrated with regards to you is as follows;
your skin Ms. de Lieva glows with a radiance like none that has ever been witnessed before,
the unbelievably flawless nature of your exterior causing all who see you crave more,
and though your flesh is as ghostly white as winter, you unequivocally light up every room,
and with the warmth that surrounds you, millions of baby birds take to fight and flowers start to bloom.
The effigy of your terrific gorgeousness burns like a great volcano about to erupt,
and the ability for men to fall for other women your features officially corrupt.
Like all who have been witness to you, I am wrapped around your little finger,
relegated to a slave who frequently admires your perfect figure.
Your luscious hazel eyes glimmer more brightly than diamonds on a frozen winter’s night,
and the rare chance to see such gems is more than just amazing; it’s a glorious delight,
to see your irises twinkling like stars half a world away illuminating the darkness,
is as sublimely irresistible as your lips, which ought to belong upon a seductress.
Your lips Ms. de Lieva, so pink and full, look to be a portal to a world of passionate bliss,
which the luckiest man alive will have direct access to with but a single glorious kiss.
What I would not give to be such a man; to look upon those lips, so demanding of attention,
that, when they move produce tantalising thoughts, rich with an unquantifiable affection.
Like your lips are pink, your pretty symmetrical cheeks are crimson, burning like embers in the air;
I cannot help but look at you; the collaboration of colour leaves me powerless to stare
at the overall magnificence that you and your facial features have naturally been supplied,
and when I look at you, I think; to see an angel, I must be in Heaven, after having died.
Your teeth, so white, are purer than snowflake and add to the beauty of your smile,
that would cause even God to happily run more than several thousand miles
to witness again an alluring picturesque visage of angelic elegance
which could not be rivaled, for no other woman comes fitted with such magnificence.
Your delicious dark, chocolate brown hair Ms. de Lieva, equipped with gorgeous golden strands and tips,
which look so delectably edible, ought to be admired with the touch of a lover’s lips.
It does not matter if your hair is blonde or dark; blessed with straightness or a curl,
such a ravishing feature adds to the wonder which makes you an amazing girl.
I doubt there is a man alive who would not like to touch your hair, which falls across your shoulders like silk, gently billowing in the breeze,
and if being unfathomably attracted to you is an illness, then I have, without a shadow of a doubt, contracted the disease.
Your voice, a symphony played specifically for the ears, so smooth and gracious, like irresistibly well preserved white wine,
the drop of but one syllable from between your pearly teeth being impossible to ignore, for the hymn is so divine.
Your unique accent, that deepens and crackles your tone, sounds like the music of a fruitful melody
which makes even the world’s  greatest musicians appear novice at artistic creativity,
for your voice, so exquisite, sexy and charming, flourishes with infinite desire,
and unstoppably spreads across all of the five senses like an ocean of walled fire.
Lastly, to call you gorgeous would almost be an insult to the evocative goddess that you are,
whose singular looks make even Aphrodite herself fail at being adeptly beautiful by far.
If a stereotypical woman’s physicality was regarded as being ‘very nice’,
then yours in comparison could only ever be visualised as an exotic paradise.
In my opinion, any woman who gazes upon your body will immediately become jealous,
because your figure looks unfathomably amazing ma’am, and your curves are so vibrantly voluptuous.
Your physical body makes you the rarest angel of Heaven, on all of this Earth,
and compared to all the money in the universe, your beauty has a lot more worth.
Moreover, the intellect injected into your writing is as attractive as your physicality,
and shows with an incalculable enthusiasm that you are blessed with many fabulous qualities,
and although I myself have no personal knowledge on your personality, humor or intelligence,
if these qualities are just as incredible, then you are without a doubt, a picture of magnificence,
for in all the world I imagine the only rival which could contend with your attractiveness,
is your exhibited attitude, which like a blossoming flower, is fueled by your happiness,
which always unto infinity makes you appear extremely cheerful,
and your sophistication that I have witnessed is so truly graceful.
These words are not a fabrication ma’am, in fact, nothing could be more true,
and because of this I believe Ms. de Lieva, I am in love with you.

Chapter 2: To the Most Stunning Woman in all of Humanity’s History, who I would Wish to be my Valentine

I write these words today in order to tell my truth, and so I have to follow through,
and the truth is I believe I have fallen deeply in love with everything that’s you.
Hypothetically Ms. de Lieva, I could easily love you if given the chance
to experience something beautiful with you, like an unending romance.
This is no vain masquerade; from beginning to end, the truth is what I write,
and the knowledge that someone so gorgeous lives today fills me with great delight,
and though I fear I’ll never talk to you, hug you or kiss you, in a way, a part of me will always remain right here
for you and always you Ms. de Lieva, the only woman of my dreams, who I infinitely love, cherish and revere.
Ma’am, I swear I will always love you; until the sky is no longer blue; until the world is no longer round; until the universe no longer stretches on forever.
This is the utmost fullest truth I say, and if it is proven wrong, then I guess I am not the man who loves you, and therefore you are not the amazing Kat de Lieva.

After writing the words I have here written, and making the stanzas I have made,
I remember the many occasions when I sat down before my bed and prayed
to find myself true happiness, and Ms. de Lieva, I found you
in a cinematic performance with members of a film crew,
which inevitably resulted in the setting of a precedent;
to again acquire that same feeling, I’d have a happy accident
and by sheer coincidence discover a production in which you were a star.
A moment watching you command the screen is so much more incredible by far
than any other source of happiness, which ultimately fails to compare,
because a moment when I witness you is the one I asked for in my prayers.

Ms. de Lieva, I realise this here is not going to be the well orchestrated work of a fabulously talented and well written love poet,
and I acknowledge I’m nowhere near as great a writer as John Keats, Alfred Tennyson, John Donne or William Shakespeare and his irresistible love sonnets.
But even with this said, I believe this to be the most professional way to admit how I feel,
and I needn’t be told for I understand that my romantic aspirations will never be real.
Never have I been real talented at conveying my true feelings surreptitiously,
and what makes this more awkward is that you are a revered and outstanding celebrity.
This is no cause for alarm, for I am no stalker and thus shall not be boarding the next Canadian flight;
I am just a simple suburban boy who wishes for the woman of my dreams to read the words that I write.
These written words are not a fabrication ma’am, and are instead spoken with a truthful tongue;
Ms. de Lieva, you are absolutely marvelous, and in this verse you’ll be forever young.

Love is just a word Ms. de Lieva; a chemical reaction of the flesh and mind; I give it meaning by choice,
and although I did not choose to fall for the woman who’s the physical embodiment of perfection and its voice,
I am glad you are the goddess who captured my heart, but what am I to do
when an emotion such as love does not exist in this world without you?
It has been argued that I cannot love a woman I do not know,
and if that’s the case, what are these feelings constantly haunting me so?
However, it’s not Cupid’s arrow that frightens me; it’s the ominous love bug and I’m afraid I have been bitten,
as is evident through the ocean of love drifting inside of me, and the many romantic words I have written,
which is ironic, for I had given up on love and was no longer a believer,
but one look at your beauty and my feelings returned again, thanks to you Ms. de Lieva.

I imagine a kiss from your lusciously pink lips would be absolutely divine,
but I wonder, would a single kiss be enough to satisfy this heart of mine,
because compared to every other gal I have seen, you are the most ravishing of all women,
and if by chance our eyes did meet, I would never want to see another lady but you again,
for no other individual could inspire the feelings transcribed in this love note,
and the way to stopper these feelings is to drink your kiss, for you are my antidote.
This is impossible however, for we are separated by several hours and miles of endless ocean,
and my one unfortunate fear is that I shall constantly suffer this terribly unquenchable emotion,
and even if this were not the case, your gorgeous heart will always belong to another,
and never in all honesty will I be honored with the rare chance to be your lover.

Despite my attempts at literary greatness, it does not matter what I write here for in a year’s time,
you will have no memory of this particular poem Ms. de Lieva, or the scheme of this here rhyme.
This is through no fault of your own ma’am, for you are blessed with your own endeavors and your life,
and no matter the privileges bestowed upon me, never will I have you as my wife,
for you are destined to become a widely famous actress, and grow even more beautiful,
whilst I, the writer of this verse, shall remain unrecognised and forgettable,
because regardless of your profession and occupational status
as a beautiful, talented and so inspirational young actress,
a woman of your incomprehensible beauty
will never notice, or take a second look at me.

This unfortunate reality haunts me almost every single day,
because with but a glimmer you can so easily steal my breath away,
for you are the the only woman of my dreams, and my celebrity crush,
and because of this feeling I passionately adore you just so much,
for never have I had the honored pleasure of seeing a woman so blissfully incredible,
and I am certain even your reflection when you look into a mirror says ‘hello beautiful’.
The thought of you actually reading my words is amazingly fantastic to behold,
and inside I feel truly overjoyed where once I felt incredibly cold.
On that note, I would hate myself if I did not dare ask the question a billion love struck fools such as I have asked the woman of true beauty;
Ms. de Lieva, if time is on your side one day, would you ever consider going out for a coffee; a lunch date; or a dinner with me?

If I am writing about honesty, then it is time that I face the truth,
and although I am yet to acquire any shred of reliable proof,
it don’t matter if you are a common civilian or a rare celebrity,
because never will there come a time when you are able to feel anything for me.
With this writ, would you be able to explain this dream of mine is through,
and specify that you could never love me the way I hopelessly love you?
I sorely wish this was not the case and I would hope for a miracle,
but the truth is, the hands of mortal men do not intersect with angels.
I ask one thing from you Ms. de Lieva; find happiness. Meet the man of your dreams who sweeps you off your feet, get married and start a family,
because then and only then, although this is the last thing I could wish for, maybe I’d find freedom from my love for you and move on finally.

Chapter 3: Of thy Feelings Felt on the Warmth of an Event Horizon Consumed with Blessed Beauty

These are the words that shall not be written
on stone; to be buried beneath the Earth, and
to be forevermore remembered when they
are removed from the slumbering chamber of
a thousand or so centuries, to be gazed upon
by visitors of a far off distant shore, so they
may know the story of a love poem, that was
as truthful as it was untold. For this is not a
poem that shall be read aloud here today, but
privately perhaps in backrooms, where
people race across the fiber-optics of the
internet, searching for something more than
the words they are reading now. Although
published upon this brittle page, there would
never be a publisher who dares enough to
accept the challenge, to reveal these here
sentences unto the eyes of others, one
pair in particular being the ones I long to
capture. For there is no cell reception good
enough; there is no message center
convenient enough, to potentially send
these words through by alternate means, and
here, below that which has been written and
read is the true reason behind the journey
that has been undertaken thus far;
Ms. de Lieva, if given the chance, it would be
so easy to love you, but what chance is there
to give to a stranger of the heart and mind,
who means nothing less than nothingness
when in contrast with what is known? But
take away the distance, and the absence of
what the eye can see, and what is it that
remains, but words and my humanity. Our
worlds shall never rhyme, and neither shall
our lips dance to a private symphony, but
hear my voice in the ocean of words that
befall you now, and say to me with an
honest heart, whether it is the truth you
hear from several thousand miles away. If
not, then the purpose of these words is to
allow the writer of these stanzas the right to
a nameless fate eternal, when the crush of a
defeat so humiliating crusades to his here
heart. But if the bounds of negativity are
not indeed that which is to be promulgated,
then what conclusion is deserving of being
written here? What words need I leave
behind to ever become recognised? For you
have heard the term ‘you’re beautiful’
spoken in sentences by former love struck
romantics a billion times before, and the
knowledge that you are so sumptuous and
unreachable proves with much effectiveness
that you are deserving of much more. I
however must accept the hurt with the
happiness, for I have nothing you want nor
need, and essentially, I am useless to you, and
when the grand delusions of my heart are
epically shot down, I will wonder if there
is a woman more amazing than you, and if so,
I would surely love to meet her. But I would
have to travel widely across the universe so
vast, and even then I would be disappointed,
for who alive could possibly compare with
the appeasing sight of your supremacy?

Ms. de Lieva, what luck would be bestowed
upon the man whose predestined fate leads
him to you? Much, I dare to assume, and
with shaking hands bereft with grief, I write
how I am not that lucky. On this here note,
I write with hands that so long to disobey the
logic of my circumstance, that the last
person I could ever wish to be in this moment
is myself, for flawlessness is the last quality
this writer could ever possess. As my pain
stricken eyes, blotched with a sadness that
may see no end, watch the pen I use dance
across the page, I find myself so envious of
the tranquil touch of destiny that bubbles
beneath the cuirass of flesh and bone which
comprises the paramour of your romantic
dreams. Oh, how I do hope I could capture
your wondrous eyes that bloom like icicles in
the freezing wind; that open like daffodils
beneath the radiance of sunlight; that glow
like the moon at its pinnacle within the
darkness of the night; alas however, I am but
one of a thousand raindrops drifting across
your window; unseen, unnoticed,
unrecognised, beside a woman whose magical
effigy of gorgeousness renders a rainbow
moot. With these words writ upon the page, it
can indeed be noted that I am much like the
moon, who is drowned out of consciousness
by the lights of the city, whilst you glow with
the unending radiance of the golden sun. But
even if I were to make a wish upon every
eyelash that falls across my cheek, never
shall our separate fates be consumed by an
eclipse, for the separation that exists between
our two universes is beyond all
comprehension. Inevitably, my day shall
forever be your night, and your night will
forever remain my day, but the sky gracing
the Heavens shall always glow the same, no
matter our location, whilst the stars that
ripple through our galaxies remain ever
infinite, like my love for you. If there was
ever a rose more beautiful than the
attractiveness you hold, I would dare to
pluck the petals of purest beauty from the
face of nature; but sadly, true perfection
exists only in your hands which rest upon
your heart, and never shall these words of
mine fall like snowflakes within your
fingers. So I let the simplicity of the
foghorn that is the passage dedicated unto
this page be the teleport of my affections
from the segment of this world I do inhabit,
to the side blessed with your charmed
existence evermore.

Please forgive the words I have here written,
which find joy in your photogenic,
picturesque beauty, whose serenity is
unrivaled. I hold deep within my heart the
untainted hope that even after my soul has
left this body it does occupy, these notes
delivered on the page; my proof of being
in love eternal, will be passed unto the
right individual so the truth of my affections
cannot ever be silenced in this age of lies
and deception, where the true essence of my
heart is the bonded word I dare not ever
breach, even when the veil of death takes
my hands in hers. Much like a stubborn cacti,
many a man would have been ensnared by
your visage that be demanding of
endearment, for the quality perfection of
your appearance has the writer of this verse
hanging on your every word. If I cannot see
you with eyes that are not bound by the
limitations of a pixelated screen, I did
promise my palpitating heart, I would
starve my love for the rest of my years
until the touch of death does take me
beyond the threshold of life’s shackles, for
your brilliance glitters with a radiance that
even the rising sun is unable to compare to,
and how else to bask in your beautiful eyes
than to do so in true form? But there are
indeed limitations in place prohibiting
souls from being granted what they wish,
and because of this, my unsatisfied heart
rests upon a pike, bludgeoned by a
defeatism from which escape is an enigma
unavailable to my soul. What would I not
dare sacrifice to remove the throes
restricting my verse, to ensure a kiss could be
carried across the continents vast and the
oceans unending to the destination of my
hearty endeavors, for no risk would be too
terrible if it were to mean your blissful
attention was garnered for but one moment.
An ocean of hysterics would erupt out from
my eyes that weep with joy, if I were to
discover in a future unwritten that your
pupils did absorb these lines of immortalised
romanticism, because you are the subject of
my heart’s worldly desires, and I would
treasure nothing greater than to have such
blessed knowledge bestowed upon my mortal
frame. Never was there a woman more
desirable in her perfection and never was
there a man more in love than I, and as long
as I shall breathe, an extra drop of love for
you exists in this here world.

If these words were not written for you, the
illustrious Ms. de Lieva, it would be now in
this textual creation that I produce the
question regarding whether a woman so
fabulous ever existed, but because these
words are reserved for no one else, the
answer I already have, and with that, a
knowledge which I shall now reiterate from
my dreams. A woman of your exceptional
beauty is deserving of nothing less than a
paramour, willing to remove the stars from
the Heavens one night and apply them to the
four walls of your room, so it is never
forgotten by your mind that you outshine
them all. Although I am yet another casualty
of your evocative appearance, such is
certainly not a trait I do possess, for the
ability to cross the boundaries of our
atmosphere is one I was never granted. What
any man would not dare give potentially to
be a part of your future is beyond the realms
of fathomable thought, for rarely is there a
person worthy of such immense sacrifice.
Just to look upon you is perhaps more
pleasurable than anything else in existence,
for you are rife with thunderous beauty, but
my soul is able to fearfully recognise how you
could never be swept up in the ocean that is
my romance, for how could words convey the
feelings of an unruly heart that wishes not to
fall for a woman who is neither in the same
hemisphere or social class? So I await the
falling of the curtain and the igniting of the
lights that illuminate the harrowed halls inside
my heart with the knowledge that you are
infinitely beyond my reach, as this grand
delusion within my romantic self is torn down
by the truth. But if this predestined fate was
not the source of my unhappiness, perhaps an
alternate future would be what shall soon
eventuate. In this dream, whose flavor is
extraordinary, I would surrender to the taste
of your lips, the gorgeous flesh around your
sweet mouth being beyond delicious I do
presume, as both yours and mine meet
beneath the golden sunset, the crimson fire
embroidered in its design as our star
disappears beneath the horizon being nearly as
magnificent as the intoxicating features of
your luscious looking lips. That joyous smile
of yours which could only ever originate from
a fairytale, is sweeter than the cream coloured
clouds above, for not only are you an
entertainer, who majors in make believe, you
are a symbol of a beauty more spellbinding
than the word beautiful itself, your gorgeous
features being inebriating on my heart, that
lights up like the sun at midday whenever
your face befalls my senses; whilst I am but a
worthless fool; a tangled weed beside your
beauty; a troglodyte of unrequited love,
bound by a heart so ignorant of the fact that
love is non-existent between the worlds which
separate the factions of society, and I happen
to be cursed to linger on the side unseen by
those who have grown to become monopolies.
But my love, empowered by a resilient fire
whose romantic accelerant could never be
undone, cares not for such frivolous
information, and so I remain eternally yours,
awaiting the admittance of whether I will be
blessed with my one wish, or my reckoning. I
am indeed grateful for the serendipitous
moment that led me to your eyes, and though
your lips were locked behind the screen I
viewed your features through, I blew you a
kiss that traveled from the deepest reaches of
my love towards your land of residency, as I
here acknowledge on this page that in all the
years which have passed me by, and the
many that are yet to come, I do not expect
to ever lay my eyes on anyone so beautiful

Although I know not you personally
Ms. de Lieva, it is my belief that your living
essence, like a lifebuoy, keeps the delusions
of many a man who dreams of you afloat, for
what man of sane heart and mind could not
find himself hypnotised by your ravishing
appearance? Despite the feelings I dearly
hold, I do my very best not to dream of you at
night, for the projection of thoughts which
drift through an unconscious mind should
always be attainable, and what reason would
you have to look in the direction of this
writer? I am barely even flotsam in contrast
with your majestic looks, and no soul could
ever blame you for not wasting a breath of
thought upon this unknown stranger, whose
identity shall remain anonymous and
unwanted. But even these words few cannot
halter the hopeless devotion which drifts out
from my every pore. I have however lived
for 20 something years without your touch
upon my face, your voice within my ear,
your lips caressing mine, and a continuance
of this existence I doubt could be at all
possible now that your soulful vision has
moved the embers of my heart to burn ever
passionately for you alone. Perhaps my love
has been consumed by an overwhelming
sense of greed, that has devoured any aspect
of normality which once dictated what I
ought to receive. Where other men dream of
owning a business or a great fortune, I
instead dream solely of you. Consequentially,
is this a tragic wish to harbor? A single
rational thought is the last idea that shall ever
be found within the kingdom of my romance,
which profoundly displays the pinnacle of
my emotions on this page, dotted with tears
of blood which have profusely leaked from
my weeping heart which aims to acquire with
great gusto the attention of thee. On this note,
which stains the page that was once void of
literary creation, shall I attempt to compare
you with the beauty of the many nebula’s
combined, which make up the universe?
Shall I attempt to conjure words of a morally
truthful nature which describe your physical
perfection? What would be the point
however when such words and terminologies
were conceived prior to your creation, and
thus are now relegated to a status which
represents their inadequacy to encapsulate
the magic of your true essence. Because of
this I am forever yours in this life and the
next, and any command that you provide I
will happily accept like a soldier of
unflinching discipline whose faith remains
unchallenged, and if your image is an ocean,
that is where I long to be anchored, and even
an eternity in such waters will be too short a
time. By the completion of this poem though,
I will barely be but a figment of your
imagination, and tomorrow I will not even be
that, however, I believe I can accept this fate,
no matter how agonising, for I would not
remember me if I was in your position, and
having you read these words is a blessing; a
gift; a Godsend, that nothing could ever take
away, for in that tiniest of moments, perhaps
I did mean something, and if you so choose
to hate me, maybe even that will be enough.

Chapter 4: Upon the Tempest which Blooms with an Untamed Emotion Forevermore

What if I made an eternal promise; swore a solemn vow,
that I will always love you, just as I truly love you now,
for although we have never met, and if I’m being honest, probably never will,
such does not matter, because come the end of my life I shall feel the same way still.
To be in your presence would be intoxicating, and the erratic beating of my heart will prove my love is real,
but even a billion miles away, I don’t need logical ideologies for I know exactly how I feel,
because I have felt love before, so I can comprehend that what I feel is true,
and although I am a total stranger, Kat de Lieva, I am in love with you.

I have these romantic feelings for you, every day that ends in a ‘y’,
and when it comes to love Ms. de Lieva, I can never tell a lie,
because I will sincerely love you, until the very end of time;
until these words are dust in the shadows; until words no longer rhyme,
and although these words may seem scary, and I may seem quite insane,
my heart will only ever beat for you, and it shall never wane,
and as long as you are alive, I cannot imagine anyone taking your place on the pedestal within my soul;
for you are everything I will ever need; you are the world to me; you complete my heart and officially make me whole.

These words are reserved for the woman who might very well be the most beautiful in all of Canada,
and published here upon the page, these many words may inevitably survive time and last forever.
Ms. de Lieva, I write these hopefully romantic words so you perhaps read them one day;
when you are off work, surfing the web, or experiencing a glorious Saturday,
for I cannot imagine any other style of communication
to articulate my feelings to the lady who stole my attention,
because what other method could I use to prove that I exist, or that I am real?
How else could I ever prove the love buried within my chest is what I truly feel?

I believe you will become an internationally renown actress, of that I am confident,
and just as you have been blessed with a wealth of talent and gorgeousness, you are also so diligent.
You were once Dimah Tchakova, and more recently Ms. de Lieva, you were Evangeline,
and in my eyes ma’am, you are one of the most talented young actresses I have ever seen.
Because of this I admirably adore you, and I hope you understand,
if we were to meet, I would bow before your beauty and kiss you on the hand,
for I have noticed you can captain a screen with an intensity, and due to this you are worthy of recognition,
and if I were to look the word ‘amazing’ up in the dictionary, you, sweet lady, would be its true definition.

I realise that the intense feelings I have for you are borderline selfish,
and as an adult, in contrast with my mind, my heart is acting very childish,
but how could any other woman in the entire universe possibly compare,
to the lady I believe I dreamed into existence, or who came alive through my prayer?
From the beginning, I have held onto the belief that my heart, I can relentlessly trust,
and so I followed my affection after first seeing you when my body fell into lust,
and although I could look at you for decades and never feel a droplet of fatigue,
I know deep inside my heart that you Ms. de Lieva, are completely out of my league.

Never will I have the opportunity to find a moment which could replace
the imprinted memory of the first time I was blessed to see your wondrous face,
for not only is your beauty beyond my comprehension, but you are everything I am surely not;
what could I, a writer (and not a really good one) ever give to you that you haven’t already got?
A lifetime of love and happiness is forever unavailable; that is not my destiny,
for words like ‘we’ and ‘us’ do not exist, because our paths shall not intersect unfortunately.
No matter the argument, if it concerns love, your heart and mind I shall never be able to convince,
and though in my eyes you are as gorgeous and capable as a queen, I am not fated to be your prince.

Oh, how I wish this was not the case; I wish you could look past this and see the man I am;
a man whose heart and feelings are unconditionally enslaved to you forever ma’am,
because whenever I lay eyes on you, a passionate eruption pierces the horizon of my heart,
and without an image of you in my life, my world begins to violently crumble and fall apart.
I wonder if there’s something wrong with me; if anyone could feel the way I do;
Ms. de Lieva, could these feelings I talk about ever corrupt a part of you?
I don’t mean to put you on the spot ma’am, but could you ever fall for a complete stranger?
Regardless of prior knowledge, could you take a leap of faith and put your heart in danger?

I don’t mean to imply there will be pain, but relationships of any kind always mandate a person to play with fire,
and regardless of any response you may postulate, in my heart, you will remain so beautiful, and my one desire.
Although my attraction could be misconstrued as being associated towards your money,
economics mean nothing to my soul Ms. de Lieva, when you redefine the term beauty,
because in my eyes you are and always will be the apex of perfection,
and I believe your divine beauty has no available comparison,
for I am 100% yours, and I do not care if this confession sounds completely wild,
because I am in love with you Ms. de Lieva, and shall always faithfully remain your Derek Childs.

Chapter Five: A Final Confession to the Dream Boat who hath Tamed the Oceans of my Heart

I realise these written words produce an unjustifiable confession,
and I will not be at all surprised if after this spontaneous admission
I am subjected to immense hatred and become labelled an interloper or a pariah
after announcing the feelings I have for you Ms. de Lieva, the woman I solely admire,
and though I long to succeed in my endeavors, I know I am not going to prevail,
because no matter my literary choices, my words are already destined to fail,
and if the two of us are fated to always remain strangers and continue being apart,
there are a number of feelings I would like to write in this final stanza that I now start.
On this note, allow me to articulate without any bias or agenda,
I will happily love you every year to come, from January till December.
In my loving heart Ms. de Lieva, you will forever have a place,
because my feelings for you are as limitless as the depths of space,
however, I am unable to fathom what could come of my affection because, with respect,
never will I have the opportunity to be so beautiful, intelligent or perfect,
for you embody all three of these features whilst I am nothing more than an unrecognised pseudonym,
and as long as I hide my identity this will never change, even if I sacrifice life or limb.
On that note, the name Derek Childs may be little more than a charade,
but I want you to know, never have my feelings being a masquerade,
and though many a confession within this poem may perhaps seem ridiculous,
I have the urge to produce my real name Ms. de Lieva, which is in fact Nicholas.
Moreover, cliche I know, but I understand how talk can often be quite cheap,
but I give you my word, the promises that I make here I will forever keep,
because even once this poem reaches its inevitable completion,
never shall any feeling expressed in this poem suffer a depletion,
for I love you like no other Ms. de Lieva, and my feelings I shall gladly follow
and the way I feel about you inside my heart right now I shall feel again tomorrow.
Never was it my intent to nefariously embarrass or humiliate,
and if that is what has concluded here, perhaps writing this poem was a mistake.
Maybe the wealth of feelings I have inside are right; maybe something is very wrong,
but how could this be possible when I have felt this way for so extraordinarily long?
Upon first laying eyes on you, the only word that passed my lips was ‘wow’,
and the thought of never seeing you again is so sickening and foul.
In writing this poem, I’m waiting for a potential sign whilst attempting to find a clue,
to ascertain whether the many feelings found inside of me I could ever grant to you,
and though I believe it may be obvious I am severely lacking in common sense,
I cannot imagine I require a substantial wealth of amazing evidence
to offer an explanation regarding why I decided to write this piece and take a grasp at chance,
to literally articulate the undeniably foolish feelings of my loving heart’s romance,
because being with you is the only endeavor that I long to achieve,
and your lovely heart and mind I would never attempt to thwart or deceive.
I don’t know where I stand, but you Ms. de Lieva, are most certainly upper class,
and if you don’t like these words, I will not deny, you could probably kick my arse,
and though I indeed have myself massive concerns a life with you I could not afford,
such a fate is an eventuality my heart would inevitably applaud.
I realise I write how I will happily be yours and maybe you think that I won’t;
I write how I deeply love you with undying passion and perhaps you think that I don’t,
and if this be true then such is another reason why we cannot be together,
and because of this my heart will erupt with grief for these feelings may last forever,
and though you are the woman who stole every portion of my breath,
I need to know the utmost truth, even if such spells my doom and death,
for if I was to move on I would need to hear you convey the words,
and emphasise how I have become so unbelievably absurd.
I understand falling for a man like me is something you would probably never do,
because with your outstanding looks, supreme intellect, personality and talent too,
you could have any man you ever wanted, and never would it be a civilian named Nicholas or Derek Childs,
so I assume I should give up my ridiculous pursuits of you, else an injunction might very well be filed.
On that note, I cannot help but fall for a super-celestial socialite of ravishing beauty,
when all parts of your gorgeous appearance Ms. de Lieva are working in perfect symmetry,
for although the heart wrenching pain of loving someone I cannot touch is not a future I would choose,
the opportunity to kiss your lips of purest gorgeousness is something I would never abuse,
because every time I bow my head before sleep, your health is in my prayer,
for how can I live today without knowledge that you are alive somewhere?
Although my intentions could hopefully never be misconstrued as anything but pure,
the poetic techniques I utilise may reflect an attitude that is immature,
for what man of sane mind with an average social economic status
would write about his eternal love for a woman who is so famous?
Seeing you has become a mandatory part of my heart’s life, for you are like my only oxygen,
and being able to see you standing before my eyes on even one occasion could be my antigen,
to help me go to bed the following night and enjoy a soundless sleep,
without hearing my heart’s palpitations as it begins to sadly weep,
from the painful knowledge that perhaps I am destined to forever be the love poet too late,
and if this be the case, any length of time before meeting you would certainly be worth the wait.
I know how crazy this poem must read for neither of us have ever met,
but one look at you young lady and I know, your features I could not forget,
because one glance at your gorgeous face and the weather patterns of my heart refuse to remain calm
for it was revealed the first time I saw you, the realm of Heaven only exists within your arms.
Adjunctively, I know this for a fact because each of my dreams came true,
the moment I turned on my television and saw a picture of you,
for I have read about women of gorgeous appearances in a vast quantity of books,
but not one of those fictitious characters ever had a fraction of your beautiful looks,
and I would rather gaze upon your face for the rest of time than enter the gates of Heaven,
but I fear there is a greater chance of the latter occurrences coming to fruition.
Regardless, a year ago to the day of this poem’s publication I had no idea you were real,
and surprisingly, upon knowledge of your startling existence you completely changed the way that I feel,
because many a person crushes on a celebrity, so it is no huge surprise,
that I have fallen in love with you Kat de Lieva; the woman who looks more ravishing than a sunrise.
With but one glance at your eyes you altered the fabric of my heart’s evolution,
and because of this fact, writing this poem, became a new year’s resolution,
and even though I understand I could never have a relationship with a celebrity,
I wonder what would soon eventuate if I made the choice to devote all of my love to thee?
Such a decision I presume would fail to provide my heart with beneficially romantic health,
however, what could be more beautiful in this world than you? Not food, nor art, and certainly not wealth.
It can be written upon the page how I am yours, but will I ever be? That is the question, and I seek the answer,
but does such a thing really matter when these feelings bring to me great happiness, not just words to fill these many stanzas?
With this in mind, I hope I did not offend or frighten, that was never my intent,
the strong feelings I hold deep within my heart I only ever wanted to present,
for you are the single most amazing woman I have ever had the privilege of laying my eyes upon,
and instead of paper, a piece of my palpitating heart is what these many romantic words are written on.
With that writ, allow me to to write; I really truly love you more than words Ms. de Lieva; you are wonderfully fabulous,
forever and always yours, in this life and the next; sincerely, with kind regards and much appreciation, your Nicholas.

Dear Kat De Lieva

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:

Thank you for reading.