I thought I knew what love was
but I didn’t know at all
until I fell for you the moment our eyes met,
and break this spell I never could,
for never was there anything more Heavenly
than in the moments I found my eyes watching you.
Did your hand fall from your wrist
and strike my heart until it was but yours
to hold and to command?
Fell upon your spell I did
in the moment of our chance encounter.
Never did you mean to ensnare me
for I be not a dashingly handsome young man
who could ever offer you the world.
Just as I know the sky is blue
and the grass is green,
I know I am not the man you are looking to spend forever with.
You smile before you retort –
sometimes the grass is yellow
and sometimes the sky is black,
and sometimes, love can be found in the strangest of places,
and tonight, love is in your arms.
These words are of course not of your own,
but of my unconscious delirium
as I find myself awoken a moment later
from a dream, one of which I will neither return to,
in this one, or the world I recently exited.
But I would cry an ocean of tears
if it meant that the liquid which floods
my eyes allows me to see you once more.
Turn to me young lady, just this once,
so my day could be brilliant,
for one look at you will leave me feeling complete.
Rarely do I have the option
of setting my sights on yours,
and what would I not do in my desperate act
to see you again before the day turns to night
and the chance that I crave is gone from me?
If I be not fool enough in life,
then love it seems will bear the brunt of irony’s humour,
for love you do another man,
and soon will come a time when chime do those wedding bells,
but never shall they sing for me and you;
only for you and your beloved.
Like a bottomless pit you are,
and I have fallen into you,
and just like there will be no end
to the breeze that ripples across my clothes,
never will my feelings falter,
and yet, never will you feel nor fall for me.
SYNOPSIS: I would never say this poem was about the ‘stereotypical’ woman. However, unlike other pieces of mine, this poem is more realistic. To put it simply, I’m kind of taking the piss out of the more traditional love poem and orchestrating something that is quite the opposite in comparison. Please know, I am not trying to seem unusually cruel with some of the words and sentences that I have constructed.
That woman, she ran her hand through her hair,
and then the dandruff spilled out everywhere.
It was then that I suddenly knew,
the girl of my dreams; she wasn’t you.
That woman, she has herself a very flat chest;
in fact I wouldn’t even call what she has ‘breasts’.
I do not know what title to give to either of them,
I just know their small size, I cannot begin to fathom.
That woman, she forgot to apply mascara around her eyes,
and by God, was I in for one helluva unforeseen surprise
when I eventually saw her looking so tired and weary,
the lines around her eyes completely tarnishing her beauty.
That woman, she wears random clothes that on her person are just so tight,
and normally I would believe myself to be in for quite the delight,
for nearly all the women who wear clothes a couple sizes too small are often really sexy,
but in her case, with many lumps of flesh sticking oddly out; let’s just say the sight was not pretty.
That woman, she ate a huge chocolate cake in just one mouthful;
who knew her jaws could be so elastic or quite so powerful?
But that’s not the worst part; she ended up with most of the chocolate all over her face,
and if I had known the repercussions I wouldn’t have let her eat it in the first place.
That woman, her skin is not light nor is it dark. No, it is oddly tanned.
Unfortunately for her, such a look is not in regular demand.
In the dark she looks like a specter and in the light she looks like a grim shadow.
She looks like nothing I’ve seen before; it’s the kind of look no one wants to follow.
That woman, she has these thin lips that are lacking colour,
and the rumor is they come with a disgusting flavor.
They are not red or white or dull, and do not look at all kissable
and in a crowd, they are unfortunately so recognisable.
That woman is a foreigner; she isn’t from this state, nor is she from this country.
Just look at her! She has a completely different racial background and ethnicity.
Due to this, she has trouble with conformity, but especially with communication,
and attempting to spend even a small allotment of time with her can lead to exhaustion.
That woman, she is not tall, nor is she somewhere in-between;
no, she is short, and in large crowds she cannot even be seen.
Perhaps this could be visualised by some as an extraordinary blessing
for some have said that what makes her who she is, is really quite embarrassing.
That woman, she has this antiquated laugh and an annoying high pitched voice,
and if I were to listen to somebody she sure wouldn’t be my first choice.
What’s worse, she always says what’s on her mind without a single care in the world.
Oh why, oh why can’t she be like any other stereotypical girl?
That woman, she is corrupted, to say the least, by just so many identifiable flaws,
and I cannot wait to discover her views, her mannerisms, her personality and more,
because, right from our first encounter, she has had me wrapped tightly around her index finger,
and my heart, it has discovered the one thing that it needs, and so I am forced to surrender.
That woman, to me she is perfect in every way. That woman, to me, she is so captivatingly beautiful,
because she is just so real in contrast to anyone else that I know, and to me that is more desirable.
That woman, she has stolen my heart, my soul, and I’m cursed to love her forever.
I cannot wait to tell her how I feel so we may begin our life together.
SYNOPSIS: My idea of a stereotypical break-up poem
Today could have been the day you found out you were pregnant and we began to start a family.
Today could have been the day I proposed, getting down on bended knee, asking you to marry me.
Today however is the day I sit back, alone again, and cry.
I stare drunkenly at the moon and toss insults at the falling stars,
the same falling stars I once wished upon that never truly brought me to you,
and even though I held you in my arms, you were never truly mine.
I could have been a million miles away because sitting next to you meant next to nothing.
I would ask if anything we experienced was true, but I’m afraid of the answer.
Was everything simply one great big lie, is that a tragic fact?
I should have realised your promises were too good to be true,
but I unfortunately had been struck down by love, and refused to see the signs.
When I told you my feelings, you didn’t believe me, and my heart lay down and died.
You had this picture perfect image of the perfect man that, like a tuxedo two sizes too small, I could not fit into.
When we first met, you were looking for Mr. Right, but instead you found me, and now it is a second too late; all our love is gone.
When in a relationship, you stressed you give it your all; your heart, mind, soul and body.
When I was younger I had delusions of grandeur, I wanted to be yours.
Since then, I have learnt a lot. I only wish I had been born with such knowledge
to avoid the unspeakable pain that now resides inside my head and heart.
I will admit, lessons have been leant, however, heart’s have been razed to the ground,
although I can only speak for myself because mine is all but dead and gone.
When we first met, I was so alive, free and passionate; I cannot believe who I once was. I cannot believe how much things have changed.
I am now an archipelago, lost and stranded in the crisp blue ocean, sending out an S.O.S to your heart,
for mine, it has been belittled, it has been broken, and it is no longer yours.
Last night I had myself a dream, one in which your loving heart came to rescue me,
but I knew from the beginning, although it was so beautiful,
it was rather unfortunately, happily never after.
When we were together I was hypnotised from a spell cast by your hand;
a man I had once been, but now a prisoner, one enslaved to your voice,
and whatever order you gave to me, I would have only too gladly executed.
You could have taken out a gun, pressed it to my temple, and asked me to pull the trigger,
and I would have obediently done so too, because I was not quite myself anymore.
I would have done anything you asked of me, but now I fear it’s too late to dwell on the past.
I read somewhere and ignorantly believed it too, a quote from a wise old woman,
who stated ever so positively and honestly, that there was no death in love.
For your crimes against the loving heart, warrants should be out for your arrest.
You need to be charged with the murder of love, and pain was your accomplice.
Every law enforcement officer, bounty hunter and able bodied hand should have been deployed
to apprehend the heinous violator who committed such horrid acts against romance.
To this I say; long live the ghost of the fallen angel, fallen angel which was you,
but no longer. Now altered into blue eyed devil, blue eyed demon, blue eyed evil.
So sweet and innocent you once were, when you went looking for a young man’s heart;
taught to be good by your parents; to treat others with decency and respect,
and to never talk to strangers, especially when within a strange land.
You had your own ideals on love however, your own beliefs on romance;
you enjoyed the company of older men for their experience and younger men for their passion,
until you were barbarically taken advantage of, and it was only then that we fell in love.
But perhaps all of it was nothing less than a dream, and if it were, it was a good dream while it lasted
within the fabricated reality of my mind,
where I daydreamed in the dark spaces of this cold, cold world.
However, if it were to happen again
there are some things I would have to recommend.
Instead of surrendering your entire self, you could have put in half of your heart,
and I could have put in half of mine, and together we would have made a complete whole,
and therefore you would have been without a fathomable excuse to leave me,
because losing you was difficult, for you’re like no woman I’ve ever known.
I wish I had the power to see into your heart, to feel as you do,
because I cannot believe you could forget what we had so easily
and begin something new with a certain someone.
I believe it’s a facade, a shitty disguise,
because I think, or I hope, although I don’t know which just yet, that you still love me,
for the greater the romance, the worse the pain, and therefore the greater the rebound.
When we cried, it was comparative to rain in a formidable storm,
and when you started up your vehicle, the engine throttled like thunder,
right before you left at a speed faster than that of lightning.
Over time I had said jokes and I had confessed my feelings;
if only this were the way love was supposed to be, you would still be in my arms tonight.
I would have popped you the question; I certainly would have, this is my truthful confession,
but you tore out my heart from its place in my chest before I even had the chance,
and yet I am still the proud owner of my heart’s train, but rather regrettably
and unfortunately, it is at the end of its line,
for no more tracks will be laid upon this broken romance.
Now, when I walk into the bathroom and look in the mirror,
I see there’s a hideous monster staring right back at me.
This monster, he is representative of my terribly scarred heart,
for I cannot believe you are walking around with somebody else
and not just walking. But I do not dare imagine, or even write down, what else you are doing,
because it is just too painful to imagine your Heavenly body loving somebody else.
You say you do not know what is happening, you do not know what you are doing,
and in turn I reply, it is obvious. You are going to do each other,
all the two of you need to discover is where? Why? And how?
Later I regret saying this, but admit it, I will not.
All I can say, is your new man, he had better hold you real tight,
because if he don’t, I swear to you, I’ll steal you right back to me.
You say he’s great, this guy you talk about, the guy you’re constantly with,
and I ask, how can you be with him, I cannot believe he’s your type.
You say you have never felt this kind of love for any other man before.
You think you have finally found the one, that you have finally got it right.
Such words are music to your ears, but they certainly are not to mine.
How do you think it makes me feel to find everything we had was flawed?
Was I simply and always invisible to you – like a specter it would seem?
Was I a sand man, but a man made of sand, who would blow apart and disappear?
However, and it might just amaze you to learn, that I still love you;
the same way a verse loves a couplet; the same way a song loves a rhyme.
You could change your face, hair and name. You could flee to a foreign land,
and still I would have nothing but romanticised feelings for you.
If you want these feelings I have for you to end
you had better get yourself a gun for hire
because I am not ever going to stop loving you,
even after all that you did to me and I to you,
because I love you now, exactly as I loved you then.
I have always loved you, and I fear I always will.
SYNOPSIS: About a man who comes walking into town, and not a minute after his entry, he has already found that certain someone he wishes to spend his life with.
My contention when writing this love poem is to tell it from a third person view
that way no one in the world will know your name and will have no one to tie it back to;
and neither of us will ever become embarrassed, or caught up in great despair,
for my secret will be carefully hidden within the pages of this poem.
In truth however I don’t even know your name, but I do remember those angel eyes,
I only hope you can forgive me, if from now on I refer to you as ‘she’ or ‘her.’
We first met on a beautiful Friday morning at approximately ten a.m;
her hair was a lustrous red and flowed down her back like an extravagant ocean.
She wore tight jet black pants with decorations of brilliant red roses down the sides,
whilst her perfectly symmetrical body moved in unison with every step.
She had the body of an angel, all she was missing were those great white wings,
but why would she ever need them, for I did not wish for her to fly away.
That same day I was a complete stranger, who had only just come rolling into town,
I had already built up quite the reputation, for breaking hearts and taking names.
The dust kicked up around my feet as I attempted to blend in with the crowds,
but she suddenly spotted I; the man who was not walking too casually.
I was bound to do some extreme damage, which must have been why I looked so out of place,
my eyes coming to lock upon her; the ravishing angel, who was a work of heart.
She looked upon my face as I stared into those unmistakably beautiful eyes,
that were, long and behold a paradise, hidden by the single most gorgeous disguise.
Such was her silky skin, her stylish hair, her flawlessly perfect body,
my eyes being unable to remove themselves from such a perfect figure.
But that moment, it did not last forever, and it unfortunately had to end
and when finally given the opportunity I could never find her again.
Once upon a time I had found myself lost within the troubles of my youth,
I can only hope that I am not ashamed of the person I am today.
To prove myself the protagonist that was sent to rescue the woman of my dreams,
I would accomplish everything and anything to secure a happy ending.
She may yet wonder why I dare do things that others do not, after heeding talk of caution.
But I dare deliberately to do almost anything to become the man I ought to be.
For if she were to combine her ravishing voice with mine, such would be stupendous,
as we fatedly come together to experience romance everlasting.
To do this however she would need to cross a river of grief, pride and pain
to eventually find that old tragic heart of mine buried deep down inside.
By doing this she would be shown a part of me that no one has ever seen;
a part of me, moreover, that no one else in this world of ours ever will.
I find myself compelled to ask her the question ‘girl, what am I to you?’
‘Am I unloved?’; ‘Am I your future?’; ‘Do we even share a connection?’
I ask such a question because in this world there are two kinds of men;
these include, those of whom you grow out of and those who you grow into.
I hope with all my heart however that I am to be indeed the latter.
I may not be the man she loves today, but I can wait until tomorrow.
Nevertheless I cannot believe that she has not seen through my secret disguise;
it is so thin, so unnecessarily useless that I wish to tear it down.
I pretend I am the man of her dreams, when in reality I don’t believe I am.
With this said I would appreciate becoming the man who could provide to her a home.
I feel however that the fates, your friends, your family, all believe this could never work
and if that be the case leave me gone forever; leave me but a memory, nothing more.
SYNOPSIS: A piece about a woman, who, even if she does not realise it yet, has a man wrapped hopelessly around her finger.
She’s the girl like Aphrodite, Cleopatra and Cher;
what could I possibly give to her?
She’s the girl who looks so sweet,
it is her I long to meet.
She’s the girl with the crooked smile,
I’ll see her again in a little while.
She’s the girl who I’ve seen in my dreams,
dancing around wearing pale blue jeans.
She’s the girl who I dream to hold,
since meeting her my heart was sold.
She’s the girl who I want as mine,
who attends restaurants and drinks exquisite wine.
She’s the girl I always see,
who knows nothing about me.
She’s the girl with nothing to lose,
who’d enjoy dining on a romantic cruise.
She’s the girl who I’ve always dreamed to kiss;
whenever she’s gone it’s her I miss.
She’s the girl from the perfect town,
who I’ve seen smile, but never frown.
She’s the girl with the pretty face,
from the different culture and ethnic race.
She’s the girl I see everywhere I go,
and yet for her I’ve nothing to show.
She’s the girl with the luxurious car;
at night she swims in her gold spa.
She’s the girl with the truly beautiful eyes;
all across her magnificent body her beauty lies.
She’s the girl with the magnificent voice,
who I would love if given the choice.
She’s the girl who’s never being alone at night;
who’s exceptionally talented and extremely bright.
She’s the girl who visits me in my sleep,
whose memory makes my heart weep.
She’s the girl who keeps in contact by phone,
when dreaming of her I’m not alone.
She’s the girl who looks like Spring;
to her body birds will sing.
She’s the girl who lights up a room,
with her face she can make a flower bloom.
She’s the girl with the single greatest Heavenly body;
whose taste in clothes is of utmost luxury.
She’s the girl whose everything I’m not-
what can I give to her that she ain’t got?
She’s the only girl I will ever love,
who looks down on me from up above.
Synopsis: About a woman who is, as the title suggests, ‘just so perfect’, yet she is at the time wounded from her previous relationship and is in need of consolidating. The piece also tells the story of the man who has loved her so all these years and has only just realised that what he has felt all this time was indeed love, and not a fabrication.
I hear many voices; all of which are so clear.
I can hear them talking, but I can’t believe my ears.
You broke up with your boyfriend,
that is the talk of the town.
You were the greatest girlfriend,
but now you live with a frown.
To have you in my life I would do anything.
I mean that, because to me you’re everything.
You are so beautiful,
more than incredible,
you are just so overly cute,
want to say ‘I love you’
but it seems so moot.
Now what can I do
when my love is a defect
and you are just so perfect.
It sucks to realise love has been there all along.
How could I never see it? Is that right or wrong?
When I expressed to you ‘you’re beautiful’
I admit, I unfortunately lied,
for your beauty is unfathomable
and in my heart, I feel for you inside.
To be with you no sacrifice would be too great,
just as there is no promise, I would ever break.
You cannot escape my love; do not try to run,
damn, it is great to have found my certain someone.
For when we are together
my heart never weeps nor cries;
as long as there is forever
my love for you will never die.
So please darling, I beg you, give my love a chance
and allow me to cripple you with this romance.
Without you I am lost; I’m not at all myself.
Your beauty is comparative to endless wealth.
I did say ‘I love you,’
but I was just so wrong.
I am in love, that part is true,
but love could never last so long.
Such a feeling tastes exactly like a first kiss.
Nothing in this world could be better than all this.
I cannot believe my extraordinary luck.
I’ve managed to find the flower I wish to pluck.
You’re more radiant than Heaven above,
but sometimes you act so negatively.
I get to my feet to defend my love
and without a second thought you slay me.
You cut me with such passion, making my heart sigh,
and then I remember, that true love never dies.