Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I need you by my side
Day and night
My beautiful bride
So take my hands and
Let me take you for a ride and
We'll fall in love under
The moonlight watching the
Star's shining so bright and
I'll love you until forever
So take my hands and
My beautiful bride
The time is now or never...
True Love ❤️❣️
Jordan Gee Oct 3
The pendulum is a bull shark.
The hour of the savior is a pregnant bride's swan dive into the water.
The mighty mile is a figure 8 in the scoot of
non slop socks across the bare linoleum.
Blood and bright are the redness of the blanket.
divine terror at one hart beat per hour.
Finger nails green and black against a back drop
of the brightest, bluest eyes you've ever seen;
deep pools of liquid light that will shine when least expected.
And the obligation isn't one at all,
for when i breath in,
you breath out.
And when I gave consent 1000 years ago times 10-
you performed the exorcism under the shroud of my amnesia
and the spotted light from a crystal disco ball.
Shards of light moved upon the face of all the space between the stars.
My heart was in the highlands but now its in your hands.
post equinox Sep 2020
Niyati Sep 21
Everything has become so different in a couple of months,
I have become the most beloved on all fronts.
But the mere thought of getting married,
Gives me goosebumps.
My heart starts pounding,
And my body becomes numb.

But just to become Mrs. from Miss,
I have to forego on all these?
Life would be so much different,
And every move so uncertain.

Responsibilities that I never took as a daughter,
Would be forced upon me, as a daughter-in-law.
My complaining mother will have nothing to nag about,
Seeing her daughter as punctual as a clock.

All these thoughts fills me up with anxiety,
That now I have to take care of a new set of relatives and a SOCIETY.

Now everyone would expect me to become the nicest,
But why they don't understand? I am still Daddy's little princess.

Yeah i know, overthinking won't help,
And even if i make any mistake, he willl be there to weld.
Long and Long I waited, endlessly, for you
Far and Far I ventured, maddingly, for you
To the deepest depths of Styx, I ****** myself for you
To the paramount peaks of Blue, I ascended high for you
O, my soul! Your radiance bewilders me

I sought for you among the trees
Dressed in majestic silky fleece
I sought for you among the insects
Adorned with ornamental trinkets

I sought for you among the beasts
With your lips purer than priests
I sought for you among the runes
Hair fragranced by jovial Junes

I sought for you among the humans,
For You, I searched the frigid south,
For You, I searched the turbulent north
For You, I searched the scornful west.
For You, I searched the pitiful east

But with mournful tears,
I found you saddened
I found you wounded
I found you chained
I found you condemned
I found you abandoned

(Your torn fleece
Your broken ornaments
Your scarred lips
Your tousled hair
Your teary eyes
Sears my heart)

Yet your presence soothes your oppressors?
Yet your heart trusts their successors?
O heinous concubines of pride
Why do you strangle my bride?
Why persecute my bride?
This is again not a person but an entity that I fell for. She is in all of us if we excavate for her. Enjoy this little creation of mine.
Kamilla Jun 16
Every cascading curve,
Envisioned and brought forth
Colt brushes accompanied by oils served
Gentle glide to slight drag North
Smooth, fair *******
Of yellows, white and reds
Complied thoughtful hues
Silk of emerald, bride of white
Paintress’ gaze, lovers by night
With the racing heartbeat
And the closed eye..!!
I was ready to give up the whole world of mine,
To someone... waiting for me on the aisle
Little did I know him and a lot to explore,
On journey ahead lies..!!
Eyes meet & result in a glorious smile,
Yes...!! everyone around cheered and
The expectations got high..!!
A lot waiting in the future and a lot I am going to say goodbye,
Giving me up to him, he tries his tears to be hide
Well it is a beautiful day since I am my groom's bride..!!
Thoughts that come in mind while walking towards the aisle..
Ylzm May 22
Zionism is Hagar, and Jerusalem is Ishmael
The Dome of the Rock is the Abomination
The little horn is plain to sight but unseen
So too the Rock, foreshadowed again and again

Ishmael's thorn deep in Issac's heart
Jerusalem never shall be again
But when, not if, the thorn is pulled
Earth shall gush blood as a heart ruptured

Can the wicked's blessings be good?
Does the wicked bless for good or evil?
Or is the blessed of the wicked just as accursed?
And thus Jerusalem blessed of Trump

But unseen, unknown, stronger by the day
The assembly is gathering as Mount Zion
Not one bone out of joint nor broken, fitly one
The Peace of Jerusalem, the Bride of God, awaits
When you are blushing and hiding yourself, your beauty is reflected by your thin dress.

you are bowing down your eyes, and my heart is beating .

your eyes are like lake in which i want to sink .

your lips like leaf of rose.

you are not less than moon , like everyone want to see moon , like that i want to see you again and again.

by coming in my arms and let remove the veneer of shyness

Get so immersed in me that one body is two lives.

I want to behold you every moment, do not blink my eyes, let me see your such a spirit
This Poem for newly married couple at First night ( golden night )

It's touching the heart
Bus Poet Stop May 2015
~

a woman, weeping,
at her own wedding dinner,
copiously, bleating sobs,
unsignaled, unprovoked, inexplicable.

misunderstanding guests,
shifting their weight
from foot to foot,
searching for a combo-pose of
of joyous discomfort.

all is well, say the wedding singers,
hymns of wedding songs they perform,
encouraging the standers-about
to dance,
all whom are inconsolably confused about
the wed woman's recognition of a
moment's milestone marker
which distinguishes, her totality,
feeling the differential between
the miles ahead,
the miles already passed,
but cannot answer
the singular considerable consideration question,
is this mine, the right road
and am I
who I am supposed to be,
or the supposition of others

which is why bride weeps at her wedding

~

a sober, industrious, quiet man
of many middle years,
seen sway dancing on the lawn
at 6:00 AM,
to sounds unheard,
was it music, voices,
a breaking point,
the birth of madness?

we, who watched from within,
behind a safe boundary
of glass and stucco and timber,
jealously considering alternate theories
of creation of the universe,
dual roles,
observing guests and voyeurs,
prayed for ourselves,
desirous of his wishes granted,
swayed with him,
in flagrante delicto,
co-conspirators unseen,
but jailed,
behind protective walls of
glass and stucco and timber,
sotto voce confessing priest-worthy sins
while protesting their innocent knowledge
of a man's delightful craziness,
a distraction from
weeping brides

~

the parents posts to Facebook
pictures of children,
warily unaware that their favoritism
is slip showing

oh they favor the youngest son,
beautiful Joseph with many colored coats,
possessing the practiced cuteness
and skillfully employ how to manipulate it sweetly
on suspecting adults

the  eldest daughter,
unconsciously,
is the child made over
into a physical representation,
a manifestation of themselves preserved
as parents are wont to do
just because
they can
~
the swayer wedding guest
pray~dances to the tune of:

give over, her to me, to me,
to replant her unsuspecting
in garden wild,
feed her colors of her as yet unthought of,
foresee her aching beauty,
teach her freedom dancing by the sea,
weeping at her weeping
at her wedding
simpatico with her,
confusion and joy and fear

which is why the man sway dances
on the lawn at 6:00 am and weeps
copious bereft and joyous,
at the possibilities of conquering life
and foresees
the child wedding weeping
and weeps in anticipatory empathy sympathy
at their cojoined
kinship fate

~
Carlo C Gomez May 22
I remember when I first saw you
in such a state,
shifting with the direction of light,
viola shaped,
the boudoir door slightly ajar.

Rings exchanged,
veil removed,
the bells had chimed for us,
and then for
ships in safe harbor.

The pitter patter of
surf cascading in
from an open window,
otherwise hushed,
turnt and *****,
dimples showing
whether you smiled or not.

Turnabout was fair play
--azure hues in moonlit pastel
caressing the folds and ties
around midnight’s chemise
--the lure of velveteen
and vast soft canvas of pearl
--areolae circles and quaint triangles
in the thick of things,
gift-wrapped in elegant fur.

Belle-chose, under
the waxing, waning crescent
of dainty omphalos, yawning in chiaroscuro,
red-faced and piqued,
quite shy coming out of the shadows.

The batting of lashes,
the lingering scent of bouquet
--like the seduction of flute song,
I followed and followed
until thoroughly lost within you.
Next page