the feelings I had
they were all true

but our future
nobody knew

the spark of our love?
oh, that, you blew

who is to blame?
no one but you.
this poem is in response to Asher Umerez's "What Love Brought". check it out here
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/896786/what-love-brought/
Arna Banana Apr 2013
Peasant clothes and peasant shoes,
Hardly bathed and poorly used.

Resting in coal and eating curds,
All she had left were her learned words.
eliza bonnet Apr 2014
reminiscing has brought us here
for i thought this relationship
could never be repaired

but when you look back
and you close your eyes
i see the real you
no disguise

but fast forward
just a few years
and here we are
full of fear

theres a difference between a father and a dad
ones good
and ones bad

i think you know
which one you are
and if you don't
remember all of these scars

but somehow reminiscing has brought us here
for i thought this relationship
could never be repaired
A B Perales Jan 2014
My interests
began to fail
me as my
darkness
moved in for
the kill.

I blamed it
all on the
crescent Moon.
The bad
head case
of the
blues I
had been
Harboring
all dam year.

Then settled
on the fact
that it was
just another
washed out
wednesday
night.

Frusciante
once again
amazed
me as he
summoned the
Gods with
his guitar
and
sang to me
through
the magic
of the
radio.

My curiosity
began to
return as
the
comical
thoughts of
suicide
took to
their roost
inside
my head.

There they
always
await like
vultures atop
a San Pedro Cactus.

Patiently waiting
for the
next time
my mind
goes weak.
Disaster Child Jan 2014
Observe, oh watchers!
Look up into the pale blue sky
Do you see it? Can you see it there?
The pale blue smile drawn out
The same twisted smile she wore
On that chill mourn
The seasons change; it is a constant cycle
Spring had come and still she haunts
I was first shocked by her appearance
Then a calm swept over me
Now months have passed and she
Rarely crosses my mind
And yet I see her everywhere
The flowers dance in the cool breeze
It is her breath whispering
The budding branches sway gently
It is her frost covered hair
And each blood red sunrise
Against the vanilla morn
Reminds me of the seeping wound
Against her lovely pale flesh
The seasons change
But the memory has still not left
It did not melt away with the snow and ice
But rather flourished forth
Like the flowers and trees
Oh how I await summer
When it is likely to burn bright as the days
And rest clear as the night skies
Sequel to A Chill Mourn
Maple Mathers Feb 2016
to school
with me
today
...



SHOW
AND
TELL
?

(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016)
Dhaye Feb 2015
He brought me flowers last year
Three flowers on Valentine
It's obvious he meant HE LOVES ME
Though he didn't give a line

He brought me flowers last month
Seven flowers on a January eve
I asked him what he meant there
He said I LOVE YOU SO MUCH,  DON'T LEAVE

He brought me flowers last week
Six flowers on my birthday
"Why six? " I asked him softly
"I LOVE YOU FOREVER,  PLEASE STAY"

He brought me flowers this morning
Many flowers on February
But I cannot ask him anymore
When in his eyes those tears I see

He brought me flowers with love
On my grave,  now it's all I have...
Sorry,  deep and dark concept for now.  :((
Shashank Virkud Jul 2011
You knew for some time that I
was the trouble child.
I always told you the best dogs
were brought up wild.
Just Melz Jul 2014
It's crashing and caving
Down on me
This life,  I've worked so hard
Can't even get dealt one good card
And then the avalanche of pain proceeds
And I'll grieve
Try all over again
But it's the same damn thing
Lifetime of misery and defeat
Playing on repeat
Like...  
How did I get here?
How could I come this far
Just to get knocked down
This ground made of pavement
My new best friend
I'll just lay here awhile
Get walked all over
While I wear a pretty smile
Dial it down a notch
Like...
How much more can I take?
You've defeated me
I'm laying here holding you
Waiting for a breath
There's no wealth or help
No welfare consuming momma to help me out
I'll just kiss this pavement
Down for the count
Give up?
That's what I'll do...
You beautiful slab of concrete you
With me in life,  with me in death
It's my final breath,  
I'll spend it in your cold hard arms
My solace on the ground
As low as I can go
You've been walked on your whole life too
You feel what I do
God Damn Pavement
I hate you
Nat Lipstadt Jan 2014
my love brought
me tranquility.
my love bought
me tranquility,
in a Manhattan bodega.

late at night in my city,
everything is for sale
where least expected
in mini marts, local delis,
greek coffee shops, spanish bodegas
pizza parlors, hardware stores,
all selling
salves for late night salvation

purveyors of
differential equations of
differing soulful sustenances,
certain imports that will probably never be
for sale in Walmart after midnight

all, readily available,
twenty four seven
in my miracle Manhattan heaven

My woman,
mapper of the byways
of my facial landmarks
worn broad~ways,
his-toric foot trails of tears,
lines of laughters,
even a
purported dimple
I call a crevasse.

a sole survivor of
a mother's birthing skill marker,
duly recorded by her upon my visage,
in my miracle Manhattan

She knows, as do
some of youse guys,
that my poetry is
water born(e) and water soluble,
but Peconic Bay always
ain't right handy,
so bring on a
substitute teacher,
a hot bath,
helps me to enunciate
my verbal visitations

my love brought
me tranquility.
my  love bought
me tranquility
in a Manhattan bodega.

pour the aromatherapy,
my love brought me
for inspiration into and upon
my liquid writing table,
"Tranquility,"
a summer garden aroma

It soothes
my bad memories,
the herbs salve
accursed ancient wounds
that will never
ever fully heal
or be forgiven

my love brought
me tranquility.

my graces restored,
this poem offered in
grateful appreciation
with unlimited adoration,
something,
maybe even the
very one thing
that can't be bought,
even,
in my miracle Manhattan

Oct. 16th, 2011
John F McCullagh Mar 2013
I brought you roses in the Spring
The evening of our senior prom;
A rose corsage upon your dress
and you, a vision, on my arm.

I brought you roses, then, in June,
the day that was our wedding day.
How lovely did you look in White
and in your arms a rose bouquet.

I brought you roses then in Fall,
A day remembered well and best;
A celebration of a birth,
our newborn baby at your breast.

I bring you roses one last time,
my spirit caught in Winter’s grasp.
You lie there still as if you slept.
I brought you roses, dearest Love,
For a promise made is a promise kept
A flower for all
Seasons
M Clement Dec 2012
Wet, dripping
Hot, sweaty
Meatpacking shop
Cutting up cows
Cold loins in your local safeway
I have no erection
Prompt: "Cold Loins"
writer Jul 2015
to be written
what we have brought
to an end
in the middle of the novel
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