A whispered "love," a trembling plea,
Yet silence spreads like a raven’s decree.
The night devours, the stars recede,
Unspoken truths, a soul that bleeds.
Your lips unmoved, your gaze a tomb,
A frigid void, a lover’s doom.
I claw at shadows, a specter’s trace,
But find no warmth in your hollow embrace.
What lies ferment beneath your guise?
What poison rests in your deadened eyes?
I taste the ache, a bitter hymn,
The only sound—a distant "hmm."
Jan 27, 2025
Jan 27, 2025 at 2:17 AM UTC
I longed for you
As a poet would
Over his elusive villanelle
I longed for you
As the Sun would
Daft love for end of day
I longed for you
As Spring would
Showers of June to rain
I longed for you
As my love brood
Incessant and partly gray
Pray ardourous affection pull you in
And treat my throbbing heart of May !
Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 8:58 AM UTC
Next to your pyre
Nest to your flame
I am ashamed by my mortality
these days have made ash accumulating of me
the grown-up ghost I'm taken to be
a soundless sonder
Through another man's lens
through another boy's poem
you are still beautiful to me
Some other man's Eurydice
Some boy who didn't turn around
when faced with the world only a few steps away
Now I am buried under this city
practicing sleepless nights
I talk to you backwards and pray for the world to begin again
a double exposure in third person
the picture makes sense, the pieces don't fit together
My schizophrenia in monochrome
Limerance,
though spurious
pending supplication
Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 8:46 AM UTC
There is no more painful love
than unrequited love
A heart that is open
pouring out to another
but an empty space
like a vacuum
with nothing in return
Like giving a gift
‘Tis better to give than receive
And the heart offers freely
all of its wonderful presents
Free of expectations
when truly filled with love
It blindly releases itself to another
With a simple creed
‘I am for you’
Like the wall of a dam
suddenly letting go
A deluge of emotions
Thoughtful, interest, caring, warmth, love
A flowing waterfall
of Niagara proportions
However, without intention
which goes without saying
since the truer the love
the blinder it be
The vacated space
creates a sudden vacuum
A sharp, deep pit left
where once all of itself was housed
For a brief time
the heart is unaware
still glowing in the warmth
from the happiness and joy
of the love it gives
But slowly the glow fades
And the presence of the empty space
becomes more obvious
and apparent
A coldness sets in
An addict looking for a fix
The heart desperately seeks
in return what it has given
Never intending to give with strings
but so it finds itself
now tied to another
with the strongest of bonds
The intense fulfilling feeling
once experienced
Replaced with anguish,
longing, loneliness and pain
The mind and heart begin
an epic civil war
Feeling the torment
and seeing the destruction
the mind invokes all its resources
to break the bonds
the heart has created
But with hope that is
almost sad and pitiful
the heart refuses to let go
So sure of the ties it made
And fighting back with all
of its might to defeat
any attempt
the mind has
to remove the bonds of love
A man at war with himself
will find himself at war with others
And so, the inner conflict
resonates outwardly
displayed aptly with defiance
and destruction
Like a pebble in a pond
each action creates ripples
Slowly at first
but then with exponential speed
a life is destroyed
leaving only a broken
and beaten shell
And after all the destruction
and loss
All of the pain and suffering
The tears and sorrow
At this moment
standing on a pile
of nothing but debris
The mind,
with a sense of arrogance
and certainty,
confronts the heart
and pointedly asks,
“Do you see now?!
Do you see the
error of your ways??
Look what it has cost us!
Do you see the
mistake you’ve made?!”
Without hesitation or waiver
the heart responds
with a steady certainty
that is calm and cool in nature,
“No. Love is a risky venture.
One always, ‘takes a chance at love’.
But I will not admit
fault for trying.
When I love
I love freely and openly
I offer all of myself
without expectations
It’s only when you get involved
and create conflict within
that we have problems
To love is to love
It brings joy and happiness within itself
If it is not returned
then it is not returned
but an open and loving heart
can not feel emptiness and pain for it is filled with love
And there is no greater reward
than finding that love in another
and having another
find that love
in you
Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 2:18 AM UTC
We've all felt unrequited love
I've just felt it more than most.
Maybe I'm guilty of loving too easily
Maybe I'm guilty of caring too much
But is there really such thing?
Can a person really be guilty of loving too easily?
Can a person really be guilty of loving too much?
Guilt implies some sort of crime, some form of offense
Who have I wronged?
Surely not myself
Surely not her
Maybe my only true guilt is in thinking that one could ever really be "guilty" of love at all
Because even in this type of love - in this unrequited love - beauty prevails
Surely there is no guilt in beauty.
I love her
She doesn't love me
I know this
But is this not still love?
Does the thought of her not still keep me up at night?
Is the thought of being with her not still the one thing that gets me out of bed every morning?
Of course it does.
Of course it is.
I love her
She doesn't love me
But that doesn't negate the beauty of love
For to love someone is like nothing else in life
The rush of adrenaline every time I see her face is above all others
The high that I feel when I think about her is like no other high
It's not about how she feels
It's about how she makes me feel
It's about the lessons that she has taught me
Lessons about selflessness
Lessons about persistence
Lessons about myself
Lessons about love.
One day the thought of her will pass
A relationship merely a fleeting thought
But a love that will last forever
Because unrequited love is a love like no other
A love that teaches what it's like to love
A love that cements the beauty of love in the imagination
Indeed, there is beauty in the unrequited
And for that, I have had one of the most beautiful lives that a man could live.
Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 2:12 AM UTC
A field with one thousand roses,
I only see one white flowering rose,
Obsession is only one white rose,
Obsession is only seeing you,
Blind to all others,
Using soju,
I create a mist,
That only surrounds you,
This, obsession with one white rose,
Is an impossible thing,
Sun shining through the mist,
Reflecting your love out to me,
But I can not see your face,
The sun is too bright,
Still I see a lovely white rose through the mist,
I want to grab hold,
But your thorns are too sharp,
How can I suffer knowing you exist, in the midst of my dreams,
That!
I will never be able to touch you,
Why am I obsessed with a single white flower?
When fate has sent to me a gift of 999 red roses?
Copyright 2015 © Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved
Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 2:04 AM UTC