Driving up slowly...
Park across the street.
Nobody should know where we meet.
Walking up slowly...
Wishing I was drunk.
At least that would explain my funk.

Now I’m peering,
Peeling off my skin.
There’s no healing;
It’s a game you can’t win.

Now I’m driving up slowly...
And making myself go home.
The things I do,
To let myself roam.
Now I’m driving up slowly...
Two hours before I’m home.
All this effort...
And nothing to show

Writing silently...
The words aren’t coming
Like I planned.
I pray someday that someone understands...
Because I don’t.

Driving alone,
Driving alone.
Home is not so lonely...
When I’m driving up slowly.
So, I’m coming home.
Yes, I’m coming home.
Sometimes it takes a tryst to realize where you really belong
Taiwo Olufemi Apr 19
Show it to me I plead
Reciprocate is all I need
My Heart is as soft as silk
My Love is as true as truth
In adversity, it may tilt
But I assure you, it will never break
Even if it requires making a tryst
At the expense of the most fiddly feast
That's mine to me
What about yours to you
Your Love will make mine stronger
Your Heart will make mine softer
My Love alone is not enough
Your Love to me is all I want
Show it to me I plead
Reciprocate is all I need
If a stupendous  thought
more often than not
let me mix her caldron
atop her stove there
my tomorrows work upon
a lover and a poetess
with genuine prognosis
only tailor-made suffice
another lovely evening immanent
she quenches my desire mag.
Liam C Calhoun Nov 2016
So as the temple with now triple gods
Cracked an only manacle, left,
Further awry became her wrongful right gaze
And even sooner, her sense of self unraveled,
If just before “undone.”
I could smell it, I could smile it and I’d share it,
As I’d been there before, so I pitch her this –
Come next time, hold my hand like a lily atop water,
Bring fruit, lots of fruit,
And never forget our wish,
Never let our wish built atop fortune’s aroma
Hinder what tomorrow could never be.
Emma Watson Jun 2016
Your father was raised in Panama. I can imagine him vividly... The floral silk shirt with velvety red cravat, tan leather loafers, waxed-to-perfection moustache, and a big cigar. It was the late sixties and he was beautiful. I've never seen a photo but I can tell by the way you talked about him. His joi de vivre oozed into your stories and I recognized it: the distilled essence of his elegance was passed to you, and you shared it with me.

We met by our mutual attraction for showing off... I wanted to be treated like a delicate porcelain treasure - you wanted a plastic toy with the price tag of an heirloom. Twenty five years my senior and you still hadn't learned your lesson about girls like me... I may have broken your heart, but you should've known a tryst between the free-spirited edge of seventeen and a businessman with dreams of Panama would burn out in the end, just like your father's cigar.
Meet me where the rising sun won't glow on our faces
When the hour strikes time aghast as hurried hands tie laces
Meet me at the scraggly wharf by the river
Where lips whisper on each others breath and trembling tongues quiver
Take me in the darkest corner of the the old abandoned shed
Love me like no other man or I shall have your head
Akhil Bhadwal May 2015
Was doing something, never did, before
Assignment, it was
Wasn't expecting, something, it happened for sure
Meet, that was

Unexpectedly, not knowing, suddenly
Whatever, it was
A familiar, face, glowing
There, she was

Enchantment, attraction, infatuation
Magic, it was
She asked, I agreed, we meet
Love tryst, that was
This prose describes the first love tryst of my life at our college library. Awesome moments. Rhyme scheme for the poem is a b a b.
Atul Feb 2015
I am here
You are there
Yet we both are near
Come that one bit closer
Let all distances disappear

Just bear it with me
We will synchronize
Come respire with me
Let both our lips meet
Hips moving to the beat
My HP Poem #765
©Atul Kaushal
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