A bit lovestruck by a perfect guy
who always makes my day
he makes me smile
he makes me laugh
I've definitely got a crush

he takes my breath away
with every word
and sentence
I feel like
I'm in heaven
completely lost in fantasy
day dreaming is now
my favorite hobby

Before I begin, allow me to explain,
I too loved.. once,
so think of me not as some cynic-
nor as a master in the ways of love-
but rather as a keen observer-
now, that may mean I have nothing to offer you-
no insider knowledge-
no secrets of love-

But I do  know how to tell a true love story -

Interested?
Fantastic-
So let’s begin,

True love, if there is such a thing at all,
is like the thread that makes the cloth
you can’t tease it out-
you can’t extract meaning-
without ending up deeper in the web-
and it always remains-
hidden under layers -

In the end, that’s all you can really say about any
True love story-
They don’t generalize-
They don’t analyze-
They arent found-
They just… happen.

and that’s what makes them “true.”

But what is this coveted “love” -
the emotion?-
the act?-
the mentality?-

Love, is a constant state of illusionment-

A collective agreement amongst humans-
that it, whatever it may be,  can be treated as an excuse
for recklessness, irrationality, and misplaced strife-  

A quid pro quo  between two individuals-
to agree that they are doing something-
anything-
other than mindlessly drudging through life-

Now that is not to say that what love creates is pointless-
I said before, I have felt the embrace of love
Love festers between individuals for so long
it has no option-
but to mould the physical to itself-
and alter our personalities-

Characterized by spontaneity-
by indulgence-
by risk-
to love is the most dangerous experience in existence-
the act of being fully vulnerable with another-
while promising not to hurt them the same-

Love is characterized by vulnerability-
and the constant fear of being hurt-

So you want to know how to write a true love story?
be honest-
dwell not on the “romantic” blindfolds that keep us irrationally seeking our partners-
dwell not on the on the memories of a love that blossomed-
reveal the core of love -

A true love story comes from gut instinct-
A true love story, comes from experience.
A true love story, if truly told, makes the stomach believe

So I said I loved once,
allow me to elaborate-

I too have felt the “butterfly stomach”
- where the insides of the lovestruck turn on their host and manifests the emotional significance of meeting “the one”

I too have spent the day daydreaming...
-Lost in the thought of “the one”, seeking brief breaks from reality in my mind between moments of  utter normalcy

I too have melted into a puddle of emotion….
-lying next to “the one” as we slowly spill more and more of the secrets that bound us as individuals, joining a spirit much larger than ourselves-

I too have felt... invincible-
-to know that I’ve found something more significant than myself. Something that replaces the fear of the future.. and makes it something to look forward to.

Yes, I too have fallen in love.
and I did just that-
I fell.





..And that is my true love story-

I am now clinically insane.
Or in much kinder words, lovestruck.

You are my serotonin.
My current favourite drug.

I love this boy
He loves this girl
We both get along-
In this horrible world

We will love each other-
To the very end
So on this new love
We must strongly depend

We'll live our lives-
And fight the duals
But if it all-
We're lovestruck fools

I am the Lovestruck One
for your viewing pleasure
From love, I could not run
Hear and take good measure

Many years in the past
when I was just a man
I thought my cheer would last
thanks to my lifelong plan

I would be whatever
I decided to be
I would go wherever
my heart dared to take me

When suddenly love struck
and turned my plan to ****
My running feet got stuck
and forced me to just sit

My soul found elation
My mind explored the new
Life, free of frustration
Fresh sense of what is true

I was in love’s embrace
and very happy that way
With no more roads to chase
I was glad to just stay

Then it let go of me
for the first time ever
I lost my sense to be
Love is cruel and clever

It returns and then goes,
taking over my heart
keeping me on my toes
The game, Change, is its art

I stand here before you
Still playing love’s sick game

I was once like you too
Now I’m not quite the same

To all of you, beware
Of peeling back layers
Love will never be fair
and makes you all players

I wish I could trace the freckles on your skin
even the ones I've never seen

I wish I could play with your auburn hair
or platinum, in your true form

I wish I could observe your icy eyes
without it being weird

I wish I could hold your hand
and trace circles with my thumb

I wish I could be less awkward
and tell you I love you

this notion grotesque
that shocks with a start
and raps on the breast
to bear into the heart

makes proud men grow weak
feeble and ailing
futures marred and bleak
yet a sole glance prevaling

a twitch of a feature
to cast the soul clenched
means nought to the creature
of beauty entrenched

for once swiftly stormed
the victim prostrate
a life briefly warmed
through this love
which breeds hate

Staring across the bar, it was love at first sight
- eyes so wide- I think I gave her a fright
She thought it was a *** look
thought she could read me like a textbook
wary of my advance
refusing me a chance
avoiding my glance
I put down my glass
and,
in a stance
weakened by my lovestruck trance,
simply asked for a dance

do you still remember
how you made me fall in love
before I can even blink my eyes?

Seeing you up close
is like seeing the sun
pop out behind grey clouds.

Seeing you smile
is like running through a
field of flowers.

And seeing you far away
is another reminder
that you are not mine.

lovestruck Romeo sings the streets of serenade
Laying everybody low with a love song that he made
Finds a convenient streetlight steps out of the shade
Says something like you and me babe how about it?
Juliet says hey it's Romeo you nearly gimme me a heart attack
He's underneath the window she's singing hey la my boyfriend's back
You shouldn't come around here singing up at people like that
Anyway what you gonna do about it?
Juliet the dice were loaded from the start
And I bet and you exploded in my heart
And I forget I forget the movie song
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?
Come up on different streets they booth were streets of shame
Both ***** both mean yes and the dream was just the same
And I dreamed your dream for you and now your dream is real
How can you look at me as if I was just another one of your deals?
When you can fall for chains of silver you can fall for chains of gold
You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold
You promised me everything you promised me thick and thin
Now you just say oh Romeo yeah you know I used to have a scene with him
Juliet when we made love you used to cry
You said I love you like the stars above I'll love you till I die
There's a place for us you know the movie song
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong Juliet?
I can't do the talk like they talk on TV
And I can't do a love song like the way it's meant to be
I can't do everything but I'd do anything for you
I can't do anything except be in love with you
And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be
All I do is keep the beat and bad company
All I do is kiss you through the bars of Orion
Julie I'd do the stars with you any time
Juliet when we made love you used to cry
You said I love you like the stars above I'll love you till I die
There's a place for us you know the movie song
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong Juliet?
A lovestruck Romeo sings the streets of serenade
Laying everybody low with a love song that he made
Finds a convenient streetlight steps out of the shade
Says something like you and me babe how about it?
You and me babe how bout it?

Love, the master of my soul,
Guide my hand and take control,
See in me all that you crave,
Ever shall I be your slave,

Love, the mistress of my heart,
Share with me your sacred art,
See in me all that is true,
Ever shall I follow you,

Love, the angel of my mind,
Keep the secrets that you find,
See in me all that you are,
Ever shall I wear your scar.

No use to fight the bloodshot eyes
Stained from the tears I cry
And Your love that is seeming to die

I sit

Light?
I need none,  just wanna feel a buzz


Yet nobody kills the high of your lust better than you
That pedestal I put you on has sky scraped my heart raw
Yet the pain keeps me wanting fix
Fistfuls of tears and hate we ****** at each other
Burning our trust
Til the smoke exhausts us
Time stops and forgiveness is brought
I love you’s and fantasies are from silent thoughts to passionate exchanges
We seal our soon to be broken promises with a kiss
A pattern so sweet my tongue can’t seem to keep itself off of you

The rain could never drown me, for I stand beneath you
My umbrella
Beholding patches
Exposing the brisk to my lips
Cheeks would be stained red if I was a shade of pale
Embarrassed,
To be seen trapped within this thing of sorts which you call love

Their heartbeats danced together when they hugged each other for the first time.
©Sonia Ettyang

I'm thinking about you.
You are so beautiful. You are so lovely.
I like you right away.
I'm a lovestruck boy.
I like you.
Here I am.
For you.

That one guy
You wanna be
But can’t.

she shot a floral arrow through his heart
and prickled him with nectar from the divine.

I spent over a hundred dollars
just on chocolate
for her
last year

every once in a while
i'd surprise her
with one of those organic peanut butter bars
she liked

i'd buy em from aldriches
during photography
or video productions

never told her where i got them
because they gave her something
to depend on me for

i never tasted a single bit of that chocolate
i haven't been aldriches in months

and i haven't gotten one of those thankful hugs
since that last one
in july
that was half kiss, half hug
and less thankful, more lovestruck
but also silent, tear filled, melancholy, foreboding

that was after i bought her reeses,
the only time e ever went to qfc together

i don't buy chocolate anymore
i've saved alot of money lately

but i've lost so many hugs,
avoid half this town
and no one relying on me like that

she was my life
it's time for a new one



©Brandon Webb
2012

It’s already midnight.* Go to sleep, dear.
   You have a brand new day ahead of you.
He’s already in his bed,
   dreaming of someone else.
Why are you still wide awake,
   quietly proclaiming your love for him?
The only person who can hear your confession
   is you, the lovestruck insomniac.

It's one am and I'm laying out on my lawn because there is a small chance I'll see a meteor, and I am in no position to pass up a wish right now.

Because I've been wishing on stars and bones and praying and hoping to forget about you.

To forget that I loved you.
To forget what you did to me.
To forget how when I was with you, my pulse was so loud I would write melodies to the beat of my heart and let you play them for me.
Let you play them in all the right places.

You.
You were my
Brooding poet.
My midnight partner.
You were the hope I didn't know existed.

And it's nights like these I curse these **** city lights I used to love so much
before you came around.

You're a light headed,
lovestruck,
immature,
inexperienced,
boy crazy,
bewitched girl.
You're enchanted and infatuated with every boy the says your name,
they tug on your heart strings like a game.
You think every guy is a new lover,
when truth is,
they're just another guy.
But I do have words of advice.

Keep chasing them.
Enjoy it while it lasts.
Because one day,
you grow up,
time passes,
and you're old and alone.
I don't mean to be depressing,
but the point I'm trying to get across is,
be light headed,
be lovestruck,
be immature,
and be inexperienced.
Be boy crazy,
and be bewitched,
have your heart broken,
but never forget this...

Just have fun while doing it.
Because life is just too **** short to sit and sulk,
or to cry and complain,
oh, it drives me insane!

Nothing is perfect when you're young,
in fact, it's far from it.
But it's not suppose to be, it's suppose to be fun,
so do yourself a favor,
and enjoy it.

Live a lot,
love a lot,
and most of all,
never forget these rambling thoughts,
written down on the back,
of a letter from the bank,
saying I over-drafted some eighty dollars.

(See, growing up *****.)

One day someone will be taking care of me
When I'm sick and when I'm hurt
Someday I'll come home to a person
Who washed and folded all my shirts
Maybe in the future he'll make dinner for me too
And know how I'm feeling even if what I say isn't true

I'll work all day and get home so tired and worn
And maybe he will do, and feel, the same
We could just lay on the ground and order a pizza
Eat half of it and pass out where we lay
Wake up at four in the morning, only seeing silhouettes in the night

And hold each others hands as we find our bed without our sight

I'd make him surprise meals, maybe way too soon
And discourage myself as he's out so late that day
He'd come home and I'd tell him what I'd created
Although now its cold/ soggy/ not the same, he'd still kiss me and say,
"Thank you, baby. I'm sorry I was late, did I make you cry?"
And I'd nod and look nonchalant... or at least I'd try.

When we're apart, I'll think of him all throughout my time
Thinking of future gifts and laughing too hard at his past puns
Maybe looking like a lovestruck idiot in public
But he would know, that's just how my mind runs
And seeing each other again, I'd make sure to feel his face too much
He'd let me, since he would love my touch

He'd watch me sleeping ugly, with drool and farts and noise
He'd probably record it to blackmail me later,
Threatening with laughter to show it to all his friends
But little would he know that I could do one greater:
Revealing the albums of candid photos and videos in my phone
And I wouldn't be able to help it, he would just be so cute-prone

We may argue over something silly, something stupid, and I'd refuse to see him at all
Looking away when he walks by and ignoring him when he talks to me
He'd be hurt, and he would tell me that, my icy heart would melt away
And I'd hug him so tight and apologize for being a meanie
He wouldn't say anything, what if he doesn't hug me back?
...what if he never again placed his hands on my back?

What if I ruin everything? If my personality is immature and strong
He'll have had enough of it and he'll gently tell me he's letting me go
I know I'll cry, asking if he still wants to keep the gifts I gave
And my heart will be trembling as I fear he may say no...
Because each moment was a whirlwind of him
I'm afraid I'll ruin my future before it begins...

Oh,
But the way
You make butterflies swarm
In my stomach,
And my heart
Pound like a bass drum,
That makes words
Tumble from my mouth,
After diving
Off of my tongue,
In such a strange way,
Like no one before
Has ever done.

Ludwig Ii

A Bavarian King with no bone bad
A Bavarian King introverted not mad
A king who lived life by night
A king who stayed out of sight

The Swan king was his given name
from Bavarian bloodstock he came Maximilians Death took away his youth
On throne pomp splendoured and couth

Peer pressure never kneel
Twas Opera Ludwig did feel
Robert Wagner was his one true love
Ludwig fitted Wagner hand in glove

A queen, A queen the Bavarians did wish
Lovestruck Elsa dry eyes diminish
Conformity died during Ludwigs reign
His sexuality showed no shame

Lake Starnberg scene of demise
Mystery death .****** or boat capsize
The King ,The King long live the King
Life lived how he chose Ludwig ii

A Bavarian King with no bone bad
A Bavarian King introverted not mad
A king who lived life by night
A king who stayed out of sight

The Swan king was his given name
from Bavarian bloodstock he came Maximilians Death took away his youth
On throne pomp splendoured and couth

Peer pressure never kneel
Twas Opera Ludwig did feel
Richard Wagner was his one true love
Ludwig fitted Wagner hand in glove

A queen, A queen the Bavarians did wish
Lovestruck Elsa dry eyes diminish
Conformity died during Ludwigs reign
His sexuality showed no shame

Lake Starnberg scene of demise
Mystery death .****** or boat capsize
The King ,The King long live the King
Lived life how he chose with no offspring

Thank You

Martyn Grindrod

I stood outside watching the rain slowly melt from the clouds

My porch let me step onto its short pathway, for it knew my thoughts

I stood there and looked up at the sky, being guarded by the small roof above me

I watched as the rain fell silently to the streets and listened as it hit the bushes

I kept waiting for it to change

I kept waiting for it to change me

For it to wash away something deep inside me

I wanted it to wash away any hurt

Wash away the insecurities

Wash away the denial

Wash away the sins

Wash away the thinking of “You’ll never feel the touch of someone in love”

Wash away the scars

Wash away the memories

Wash away the impurities

Wash away

I stood waiting but the rain still poured on my outstretched hands

My hands opening to God asking,”Why me?”

The hands of a woman who has never felt the hands of a man in love

The hands that can make me whole once more

As I stood watching the lightening soar across the sky and the thunder gently hum

I wondered “Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?”

I shivered and stood waiting for the rain’s response

None came; the only response was the silent tread of water heading toward a gutter

Funny, just like my life, always fighting against gravity to stay clear of the gutter

Shivering I stepped back inside and heard a small clink of a piece of broken glass

I held it, amazed, wondering if my life would end this way

In the hands of a tiny piece of melted sand

I looked at its tiny iceberg shape

I turned it and it suddenly transformed into a misshaped heart

A heart, like mine, so clear, so ready, so fragile

I tossed the tiny love into the air as lightening made its last hoorah

Hearing only the distinctive clink as it hit the sidewalk

The rain responded joyously as it picked up its pace

This was her response

Nothing may be real but the rain

In the end, sometimes, it’s all we can depend on to wash away our old selves

To stand, like an escape from Shawshank; free

This was my answer

That my tiny glass love lying patiently on the side of the road will someday be picked up and thrown wildly into the wind hoping that it shall find the fingers of a lovestruck current

This time instead of a slab of concrete, I shall be there to catch it as lightening strikes my heart

I looked up at the tiny roof guarding my head from the cold drops of reality

It was then that I decided it was time to take the roof off of my life, leaving me unguarded

I closed the door, shivering with a renewed sense of myself

I curled under the blanket asking again the same questions that haunted me,

“Is this life real? Is this God real? Is love real? Is any of it real?”

The rain answered,

“Yes”.

it's not me
pushing you
away except
it actually is me

it's the kind of
morning that the
wind is blowing
just right so that
the open flag
flutters in front
of the window
where i can see it

the kind of morning
i don't need coffee
and i try not to
think about

it too
much

(i just wanted to
be the girl in
an owl city song)

pacing back and
forth in straight
lines and gritting
my teeth against
an onslaught of
small town gunfire

(i'll bet annmarie
never had scars
or scratches
brielle didn't cry
and shake for
hours thinking
how to end it all
it turned out
okay for anna
and vienna probably
knew how to dance
between the snowflakes
and underneath her regret)

i've never been good at
drowning out thoughts
they just get louder the
longer time rolls on

good at rolling out
cookie dough and
good at drowning
in dishwater when
the brownie batter's
baking and the bowl
needs washing when
nobody's looking

(i've had moments
here and there in golden
sneakers and navy blue
lace covered dresses
but i'm not the girl
in an owl city song
not something worth
writing dreamy poems
about not so lovestruck you
replace your words with dada)

girls like me wear flannel
khaki too much day old
eyeliner too many day old
scones have half heads of weird
colored hair and spend valentines
day alone watching tv

so maybe why i'm bitter
as the inside of a lemon is
that i'll never be able to change
to someone drenched in verbena
spinning through the sunny
skies between your fingers

The primal instincts are not enough
To tempt me away from the thought of you,
This love of ours is dry and tough,
Discarded the bones because I know we're through,
The urge to ****,
The rush of the thrill,
Let me strike you with a poisoned dart,
Just to have another taste of your beating heart.

I'm just a lovestruck Hannibal,
I want to eat your love like a cannibal,
I'm a savage, I'm a sinner, I'm living like an animal,
But all I want to do is feed on your love like a cannibal.

Hey, so, um...
This is a bit awkward, isn't it?
I don't know what you're like
From a personal point of view, that is
I've heard people talk about you
I mean, in a good way
Or a neutral way
Whatever

Shouldn't have said that, shouldn't have said that

Anyway, I don't know if you know me
Since I don't really know you, you know
But I think you are... er...
Attractive?
Yeah, except on the inside
And the outside, too, especially
I mean, um, not especially.
I'm not shallow.
But you're really cute.
So, I guess that's just what I wanted to tell you
My work is kind of done
But I mean, talking to you isn't work

Oh, this is harder than I thought

Well, you don't have to say anything
I'll just, uh, leave now.
And you don't have to talk to me, ever, if you don't want to
So, bye...

Oh.

I, I mean, sure, sure I'll stay.
OH.
Really?
Wow. Okay.
So, what's next-
Oh. Sweet. Okay.

I haven’t caught feelings in 4 years and it’s just as terrifying as I remember it.

You drive me ******* crazy. I can’t sleep, I can’t work, I can’t focus.

But **** I don’t want to be without you. I don’t ever want to leave you.

You don’t think you’re pretty and I don’t know you any other way. You’re fantastically funny and caring. You care about me, you listen to all my crazy banter.

How did you find me? How can you call me yours so easily?

I don’t deserve that.

I’m drowning in Frank Sinatra songs and sugary coffee, I am on cloud 9 with a stomach full of knots.

I have all the confidence in the world and none at all.

I’ll write all my best music for you.

Being lovestruck is as much about being struck as it is about being in love with you.

I’m scared to be crazy about you.
I think I’m more scared of you being into the train wreck I am.

But **** it you’ve got me.
They say love hurts, but I don’t really mind right now.

It almost kills me that I gotta keep you a secret. Crushes are weird like that.

I’m stuck looking at you, not knowing what to do, but incredibly happy to be where you are.

You make me better.
Stay with me a bit longer.

I love you.

And saying that terrifies me.

But I’m willing to risk being scared for awhile.

I am so neck deep in this, I might pass out.

I love you so much, it might **** me.

I feel crazy. This might be crazy.

But you say you love me anyway.

And that’s good enough for me.

Robust, in her
I trust; in amour'
Not lust, do I giveth
Thanks to thee O' God.
I'm a seed in her pod,
Getting the sustenance
That deriveth from her light
Source, inside the Church of her spirit's
Porch, wherein stardust lurks, as do lightning lovestruck-rod's.




©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)

we were eleven years old in her childhood room.
she pulled a pink dollhouse from her closet, similar
to the color of my cheeks; i swear i tried my hardest
to hide it from her. the front door **** was
covered in angel tears, or so she called it. i asked her
where our room was and she
pointed to a red and white door.

“this is my hiding spot. i like to imagine during
school that when we run away together, doors just won’t exist.
i don’t want anything opening and closing other than your
mouth when you speak haikus into my veins.”

my heart races around 85mph sometimes but dear, you
had me going 100 and i don’t know whether or not to stop saying the words i am and my sentences aren’t haikus, but rather sonnets now and -

“just open the door, my lovestruck poet, come inside, take off the
door ****, and live through me. my favorite flowers
are gerbera daisies, they come in all colors like this house, but
you’ll always be my favorite,” she whispered, afraid of her mother
hearing this midnight confession. her door was pink;
she held a doorknob in her hand.