Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
My Dear Poet Aug 2021
There are those who fight for love
with weapons as weak as wood
these are they who avoid the fire
and would hide if they could
there’s lovers, whose shields are hung
and are dented with dints
defeated by a waging war
that they had no faith in

The war for love is never won
though dressed in iron, steal or tin
when you have no hope in love
neither should you win
The strong have given it their life
in armour as soft as cloth
with a heart that gave all it had
they fought hard and never lost
M Vogel Dec 2020
D Vanlandingham

I could not help it,
but to show you how the moment felt,
and in the unfolding of a picture, painted;
the deepest of your dreams were unknowingly shown to you
And it caught you off guard-  having, to that day..

   you never imagined,  it possible.

But you did not yet understand that you wear your dream
somewhere within the thin-walled interminglings
of the word's first primal, urgings..  and its out-into-the-light-of-day,
manifestations... (and baby, I feel like crying right now)
but I will continue
I will continue--

You never signed up for this,  I know..
but you are the one who  chose
to allow your war-torn heart,
to keep on beating//
your flame-scorched lungs,  to keep on breathing..
and now look at this mess, my beautiful--
your beautiful-everything has bled out on to me

and  everywhere that I am..  I am wearing you

And all I do  is tell you what it feels like  to wear you
but in doing so, I made known  your dream
and somehow-- within the stretch of Love's ache's, bad luck
I have become hated  for making your secret, come true--

         the revealing of the dream,  made known ::

                                                the Unfolded you.

And now, you are raging
because you never imagined, the possibility
that there would be someone  out there
that would care  enough about you
to become able  to see..

(and a man became hated, for just being  me).


Yet, even now  to this day,  beloved;
I close my eyes, and smile
within the depths,

  of your deeply loving, hatred.



The smell of rain and streetlight, thrown
a love, a lantern in the snow
when she feels it taking hold
she finds it so hard letting go
How can I tell her that we'll shine?
She dreads the devil's yet to show;
so **** reluctant to expose it to me,  so..

well..


(it has been years of this, my beautiful)

I love you.
https://youtu.be/BnWFy0P2e-A
xoxo
.
M Vogel Nov 2020

Your finest of  dreams
became known..
And in those precious hours
you soared,  as I soared
until your own,  
horrendously skewed,
self-view
slaughtered the ever-living
****  out of it all..
And, oh my sweet
little desert-wanderer-
you have been mad at me
ever since.

I did not create your view,
someone else did-- so horribly..
so very unfairly
     long before we ever met
I came to help  restore  in you
that which was stolen from you
so very long ago.
   But you hauled off  and kicked
   me in the ****
   as soon as your ever-wearing
   internal-messaging system  kicked in
And down I went, my beautiful--
a total ******* in your eyes
with no way left to bring you  the gold
your better-everything, still hungers for.
**** me, my beauty..
baby stick the knife in
    deep.
And in a moment of remorse
your tear-stained rusted fortress-gate
will swing wide open..
and with my last dying breath,
I will hand it over to you anyways--

         The gold your war-torn heart
         had always hoped for
         but never thought it deserved.


   You are Ishmael, my beautiful--


   a blood-borne carrier
   of the Living Word


god  will  hear
Jack Jenkins Jun 2016
Carve a little more
out of my heart
I'm not yet completely
empty of love...
Raphael Uzor Apr 2014
Jesus never complained**
Should we?
5w

Complaining has never solved a problem, it only compounds!

— The End —