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Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
 Jan 2016 Hannah
Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
 Jan 2016 Hannah
The Dedpoet
Naked
 Jan 2016 Hannah
The Dedpoet
My eyes cover you
      With a warm rain
Of stares,
     The morning comes
Like a singing spiral,
      Your body of foliage
Opens like a meadow
    As you arise from bed.
The gilded light
    Sifts through your blouse
And your body burns
    Through the silhouette.
Coffee,
          The vertical hour awake,
Your laughter is everywhere,
      I take your hips of light
And make love at the cliff
     Of the day......
 Jan 2016 Hannah
Bianca Reyes
I am the queen of what ifs
Sitting on a throne of could've beens

My fears are my loyal subjects
Escorting my dreams to the gallows

My ambitions are now prisoners
To my court of procrastination

I, the queen
Reign over all of this regret
May we never forget

I, The Queen ©


I GOT DAILY POEM!!! Wow, thank you to everyone who read, commented, shared and liked this and thanks to anyone who reads this and does the same. Yay :)






Written and shared on Hello Poetry on January 11, 2016. Copywrite and all rights reserved under Bianca Reyes
 Jan 2016 Hannah
E. E. Cummings
i will be
    M o ving in the Street of her

    bodyfee 1 inga ro undMe the traffic of
    lovely;muscles-sinke x p i r i n    g S
            uddeni
    Y         totouch
                             the curvedship of
                                                         Her-
    ….kiss      her:hands
                                    will play on,mE as
    dea d tunes OR s-crap p-y lea Ves flut te rin g
    from Hideous trees or

         Maybe Mandolins
                                      1 oo k-
         pigeons fly ingand

    whee(:are,SpRiN,k,LiNg an in-stant with sunLight
    then)!-
    ing all go BlacK wh-eel-ing

    oh
        ver
              mYveRylitTle

    street
    where
    you will come,

                             at twi li ght
    s(oon & there’s
    a             m oo
)n.

— The End —