"reserve" poems
Dear Future Wife,
I know that it wasn’t easy going through the tides of life. It will never be easy. You might find yourself looking for someone who would fulfil the emptiness that you would feel inside. It is my strongest hope that you won’t entertain anyone who would try to take your heart. I would like you to focus on your studies at this point. I know that studying could sometimes be boring or somewhat hard, but I trust you with this one. You can do it.
I’m writing this letter for a purpose. I would like to tell you some things before I marry you or before you become my girlfriend or even before I meet you. I would like to start this message by thanking you in advance. Thank you for choosing me out of the billions of men who are better and more handsome than me. I know that I never deserved somebody like you, and it’s kind of unfair for me because when we would be together, I know that we would look like beauty and the beast. You’d be beauty and I’d be beast.
Thank you for the patience that you will have with me for the next 10 to 70 years. I appreciate how you would make me smile and laugh and even cry at times. It wouldn’t be hard to be with me, because I beat a girl in terms of emotions. Thank you for being faithful with me. I just want you to know that I would not look for anyone else but you. You’re the one I am praying for every night before I go to sleep and every morning before you get up from bed.
It may not be my season yet to be in love. I promise you that I will wait. I will not rush anything with you. Forgive me if I wouldn’t give you flowers and chocolates for valentines while we are still students. I promise you that I will give you something more than that at the right time. I would reserve my hands for you, you and my mother will be the only women who would be able to grasp my very hands while walking. I would reserve myself for you. There would be lots of temptations, but beloved, I promise you that the only one who would control our relationship is God.
It would not be easy being with me. It will never be. But I thank you for choosing me. Forgive me if I can’t be as handsome as the celebrities you watch in movies. I may not be handsome, but I promise to love you with all I am until my final breath.
I’m Excited
I’m excited to be your boyfriend and experience butterflies in my stomach whenever I’m with you.
I’m excited to give you gifts every occasion.
I’m excited to text you the words “I love you” every morning.
I’m excited to see you walking on the altar.
I’m excited to hear the words “You may kiss the bride”
I’m excited to be your husband.
I’m excited to forestall you in waking up just to cook for you.
I’m excited to have dogs (we’ll name them Bacon and Goya)
I’m excited to start a family with you.
I’m excited to roam the world with you.
But while our story is not yet clashing to each other in His book, my excitement would not stop me from waiting. I will wait for you. I promise. I love you.
Your Future Husband
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC
A gentleman is not brutal,
but he will prove all vendettas futile.
He is not immune to bullet, fist or blade
but any insult raised against him
will be met with a blockade.
He is stoic, but still smiles,
cracking his face open without reserve
for a friend, to calm, to a foe, to unnerve.
A gentleman dresses his best,
whether it Vans and sweater, or tie and vest.
No-one is beneath his attention
he gifts compliments quite often,
but when a man puts a hand on him,
that man goes home in a coffin.
No matter his orientation,
he respects every inclination,
He holds the door
the same way he strikes true,
every time.
He knows his weapon well,
but in blood, he doesn't buy nor sell.
He knows the time to fight
but of violence, he makes no light.
He respects every man,
every woman,
every child...
But,
if his family is ever hurt
and this one renders apologies inert
then they shall receive only
a box and a white shirt.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
61
Papa above!
Regard a Mouse
O’erpowered by the Cat!
Reserve within thy kingdom
A “Mansion” for the Rat!
Snug in seraphic Cupboards
To nibble all the day
While unsuspecting Cycles
Wheel solemnly away!
12.8k
I chose to hide,
Behind my veil.
In my safe home,
My existence frail.
My identity and my honour,
My own choice to preserve.
Hiding within my soul,
Modesty that i reserve.
Eyeing this dusty world,
Lost treasures of faith
seven virtues for world,
Veil for me is eighth.
Proud of my identity,
happy on my choice.
This is what i am,
Hijab is my voice.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
(from “A Love Song” by William Carlos Williams)
<•>
familiar that apple google and amazon
have me under 24 hour surveillance
e-specially now
as I am in their
geosphere of influence
but sending me a love poem of WCWs that isolates my locale, my intended inebriation status,
and is addressed to me personally (“you”),
that’s just creepy
so charged am I, obligated to oblige,
to counter-compose a love song of mine own,
under the pinot “influence,”
(in a manner of speaking)
which a love taught me to love
what if,
a new love song ecrit,
to an old and loverly land,
a woman-land designed to be desired,
no difference -
kissing a new girl first time,
a wet and unforgettable
compote
when falling
on the neck of your one beloved anew renewed
now I tremble-tread
for the line of great predecessors,
“the land lover scribes”
skilled in natures homaging,
is like a line out the door,
around the corner as if
a new flavor ice cream
has just been isolated and mined and I...
<•>
*I,
but a novitiate
in a far away, wild untamed world
where my nature taken by her nature
cannot deny paying my just due:
selvage
late middle English, from self + edge
how perfect!
“an edge,
woven on a fabric during manufacture,
intended to prevent unraveling”
the pacific coast air
the irregular shoreline - expanding/receding,
god’s own forestry reserve,
the cascades, a goal on the horizon,
country roads where ancient wheat stalks grow wild
all a tonic intermingled, an alcohol to
imbibe through mouth nostrils eyes and skin
all will be my own selvage!
preventing the eastern unraveling disease,
a nearly incurable permafrost low grade
kate spaded infection,
brought along with me for decades,
my loon June companion, now stalling out,
lost from my happy head
a vineyard on every corner,
marijuana growing next door,
rivers that change like children growing up and down,
cheek to jowled property line
live the berries and the hazelnut groves,
god’s hay bales wrapped in plastic
like marshmallows dotting the landscape*
all daring you to say
I could
love
it here
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
Hey, met any hot chicks lately?
Yeah, that peahen is looking at me,
soon the others will too -
not at you, buddy…Oh yeah. Get real.
Just wait till I display my train of shimmering colors
and you’ll see the peahens making a beeline for me -
and you’ll have to bury your head
in the ground for shame
like those silly ostriches do…
All males have their self-esteem hurt in my presence, sure;
you’re no exception – don’t feel too bad…you’re just bad…
The last time I displayed my train,
hey - I caused mayhem in the ancient Indian forests
as the peahens went wild…
that’s why they’ve placed a ban on me
in the land
and how I ended up in this reserve
but I’m not the one to worry,
yeah, brother
you’d better step aside
and let me show you how
I call it the Kama Sutra of the Peacock Gyrations -
learn a bite or a posture and you might
be able to put your gene-stamp
on future generations…
now if you’ll excuse me,
I’ve got a thing or two to do
with these peahens clamoring
for a peck and a neck leading
vigorously to do
the mating dance with me
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
773
Deprived of other Banquet,
I entertained Myself—
At first—a scant nutrition—
An insufficient Loaf—
But grown by slender addings
To so esteemed a size
’Tis sumptuous enough for me—
And almost to suffice
A Robin’s famine able—
Red Pilgrim, He and I—
A Berry from our table
Reserve—for charity—
7.7k
an aging APE developed arthritis in his ankles
several BATS tasted the nectar from the plum trees
Jessica's CAT played with the ball of wool
DINGOS were seen skulking around the camp site
there are two types of ELEPHANTS the Asian and African
FERRETS are sent down rabbit warrens to flush them out
Helen saw a GIRAFFE at the wildlife reserve
I wrote a poem titled Hilary The HIPPOPOTAMUS
Who has a pet IGUANA?
Some people say my uncle is a *******
KANGAROOS have muscular tails
Obama rhymes with LLAMA
in parts of Canada MOOSE roam on the loose
a NEWT likes being in a warm environment
some OCTOPI have black dye
baby PANDAS are cute and cuddly
in Australia we have a native bush QUAIL
RACCOONS live in rocky dens
a TAPIR has a very long nose
UAKARI monkeys hang out in the Amazon jungle
if you're looking for a VOLE you'll find him in a hole
WOMBATS move in a very slow manner
an XERUS is a mighty big species of squirrel
the Nepalese have domesticated YAKS
Doctor Dolittle has spoken to a ZEBRA
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
The old woman ran a leathery hand through her cropped hair.
"Yes, you may weep for the fields of green, as they were gorgeous yet thought to be boring."
She rocked back and forth and her wrinkled face contorted into a smile for the first time in the conversation.
"You may always cry for the tulip fields as they were devastatingly beautiful yet loathed."
And yet, as soon as her face had lit up like a thousand suns, it was once again devoid of expression.
"But, nonetheless, reserve your pity for those that loved he or she that burned out,
for every lover of Icarus knows that it is better to be hated than to go unnoticed."
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC
I wake up every morning clutching my reserve
like you clutch your smartphone,
pleading with it in a whisper,
"Please don't die on me."
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC
Daydreaming
of better things
of lovely things
of saddening things
Daydreaming
of Him who I wondered
ever really loved me
or did it mean no more
Daydreaming
of the life that was not mine
the life I left behind
the life I could not find
Daydreaming
of something I do not deserve
yet yearn for
with no reserve
Daydreaming
of things so harsh and deep
the ocean swallows me whole
and into quicksand I seep
Daydreaming
of the life I thought I desired
of the life I was inspired
but never became reality
Daydreaming
of better things
that became worser things
That became dangerous things
Daydreaming
Of things I don't understand
Yet yearn for
What nonsense, I am.
Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 8:52 AM UTC
we have been blessed with womanhood.
not in a biological sense, nor a societal one,
but a blessing, due to our values.
no man could ever make my blood so darkly crimson
make my heart race, beat
in places within me for which
i should be so condemned.
i live for the subtle pain
of lying down once
you've torn my back to shreds–
it's the ghost of you keeping me on my toes.
i want the wine to hit you like it hits me
like it makes me want you
what it makes me want
to do to you
the way the black and grey lines
make your face in my mind
and the screaming color which
you actually are
and on occasion–i am taken to
that place
where my clinical proudness
(and therefore, reserve)
is gone
and it doesn't matter except
that you are mine and
i simply want to make that
very ******* clear
every time i look at you
i want you to know
that i am thinking about
the most carnal viciousness
and how it might
feel to be wanted
by you
how it might feel to
have you screaming
my name into my neck
how it might feel
sweet god among women
in my bed
let me tear apart the stitches in
your skirt
my dream
is to not have to sacrifice
one for the other–
as in,
you wanting me
for me taking you.
Oct 22, 2019
Oct 22, 2019 at 9:26 PM UTC
I come from South of the border,
just South of Portland with a little West bend
not from the hills of the academic and domestic
Wake up at 1P, M in the morning
ash under my nails smelling errl in my nose hairs
"Hey do you think I could *** a smoke, bro?"
Sure my man I got a spare so don't fret, but I'm not a bro, though"
"For real?"
**** man, I run into you every day do I really have to do this every day?
Life like the industrial companies lining my streets
press and press and I press and I do it all again
but every step might not go forward, I keep
sayin I don't have the reserve to go on like this,
this shit's burnin me before progress,
can I just make a little bit?
"No," says me, "but maybe you can next time."
Can I get out of bed at least?
"You know the rules," says me, "get to the car and the engine's running."
But man there's a lot of broken glass down there,
painful, diamond shards trailing in with the past down there.
Is this fair?
Okay, don't answer that.
Not raised by a meth-head, thank god, but neglected,
but kept safe in a home offering protection
Mother's broke and mi papi es a ghost
left to my lonesome devilish devices
look it's a **** **** with vicious collection
of debt and death-draw bridged in prevention by vices
smoke till I choke, kid, smoke while I toast
"I became someone so why couldn't you, too?"
**** kid, I just want to see the weekend,
Just want to see tomorrow,
Just want to wake up sometime
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 10:39 PM UTC
Oh, my Father in Heaven
Guarding me from all perils and trials
And sets my heart free of all clutter
For you, my songs of praise, I reserve
All my life, I shall sing
Without fail, in bloom or gloom
On every unfolding day
Through months and years
Till death and beyond
Let my songs sail across the skies
And with the chorus of the heavenly band, unite
Oh, the benevolent Lord of all creation
Custodian of all wealth
Contriver of birth and death
The Master Crafts man
Everything is your handiwork.
The lofty mounts
Veiled in misty snow
The verdant dales
Lush and still
The fathomless deep
Where mysteries peep
All the flowers
That bloom and wither
All things
Bright and beautiful
Everything, above and below
In all,
Let me behold thy grace
And sing Thee praise!
Oh! Redeemer of Mankind
Guide me through the dark
Guard my steps where dangers lurk
Hold my hand
And never loosen your grip
Make me face the light
Illumine me with wisdom serene
And fill me with love divine;
So that you be glorified
Here, on Earth
And in Heaven be!
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 7:12 AM UTC
You are but a reserve man of emotions
The one who answers only to yes or no
The one who stands in the corner of the room of every party
The one who chooses to be alone just so
But when you write, the world stops
To listen to the words you've woven
with beauty and intertwine with sorrow
To listen to the rhythmless music
where all the butterflies in my stomach dance to
To listen to the raging wave of sentiments for humanity
To listen and to feel the love and ache that the world chooses to neglect
You, you may crack the lamest jokes
But when you write, the world stops to listen
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 8:20 AM UTC
Modern athletes, strong and buff,
These days are tested soon and late
just to prove their skill and strength
are free of anabolic taint.
Ryan Braun, the M.V.P.
was tested thus occasionally.
He didn't seem the type to me
to boost his skills unnaturally.
Thus imagine my surprise
to learn the ***** he supplied
contained synthetic Testosterone
Brewer fans emitted groans.
Now it seems he's off scot free
based on a technicality.
He will not have to serve the ban
imposed on many a lesser man.
Opening day, reserve the date;
Braun will be there at the plate
His many fans will come to see
Ryan Braun, the M.V. ***
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 5:28 PM UTC
A pearl mansion, three stories tall
Soaring on a halcyon hill.
A stretched view to read the world.
A throne with riches to fill.
The comfort of a swain.
But carnality in silence
An everlasting reserve of cake.
A bottomless appetite in defiance.
A quail in a cage, the keys in her hand.
To pluck the plume languidly.
A daffodil to determine fate:
“I love him. I love him not.”
To spoil their fly,
To reap their fall.
Their loyalty hazily sewn
In grounds of her royal hall.
Heels encased in crystals of tears.
To lien their names
And shine her shoes
Perched high on a golden bluff.
To shutter her windows
On cloudy days.
To be a star in the night
Despite the moon’s wane.
Eternal seasons of the self.
To watch feathers move
Without the burden of wind.
The quietude of stillness but to fill the void.
To reign solely as a dreary majesty.
To kiss and then walk astray.
Or perhaps earnest denial
To pacify the pain.
Sep 29, 2021
Sep 29, 2021 at 11:07 AM UTC
*Ukitin ang namumuong salita ng iyong pag-ibig
Wari'y ipikit ang iyong mga mata
Kung tadhana'y nakalaan,
Sa tamang oras at panahon.
Pagkat ang buwan at ang araw;
Ay namumukod tangi sa ulap
At hangga't maaaring tanaw ay abutin.
Silipin sa aking palad;
ang kapalarang mapaglaro.
Sa ihip ng hanging amihan
Ito'y dumaan man hanggang tanaw mo'y maabot sa kalagitnaan ng daigdig.
Yung tipong aanurin ka na ng karagatan.
Kahit umulan man o umaraw
Yung tipong paghihiwalayin kayo ng landas.
Pero sa kabila ng lahat,
ito'y babalik sa tamang panahon.*
(English Translation)
Court The Heart
***Carve the coagulating words of your love.
As eyes closed,
Whether, destiny reserve the heart,
that fall in love at the right time.
Whereas the moon and the sun;
the only exceptional top of the skies &
As long as I could reach the scenery.
Glanced at my palm hands;
That playful act of fate.
As the breeze of the cooling air
Whisper the touching soul of yours,
Reaching as much as it could.
Between the World we knew it'll still hold you back from time to time.
&
Even if the ocean will drown us apart
Even if the sun shines nor we soak at the rain
&
Even if the path would break us apart,
Still we could turn back at the right time.***
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 7:28 AM UTC
You feel you're invincible
being that your sanity is uncontrollable
strolling around with your shoulders past the birds
past the planes
your ignorance succeeds in innumerable ways
your sight is weak
your mind is enable to capture
it's buried under life's adversities and Earth's pleasure
you don't know when to stop so you flood yourself
until you're lame at your ankles
and paralyzed in your emotions
you wend through life this way
well you try
stuck in misery
with no lane to merge
frustration is your best friend
a human is impossible and
incapable of the acceptance
your belittlement draws mankind away
no one wants to attend a pity party
unless their accompanied to your VIP
and to reserve
you are the one to RSVP
Enlighten heads will stray away
pessimism is a curse
rapidly spread by the weak
you have distress and frustration
suppressed
strangled screams
holds your eyelids open at night
deliberations controls your emotions
controls your feet
throughout the day
you are terrified of tangibility
so you indulge yourself excessively
burying your true identity
becoming irritable when bearing your sober mind
if only you knew how divine you are
you would grow to love yourself
in ways incompetent of how you could love so hard
look yourself in your eyes
find who you are
even if you have to savagely search
you'll see the soul people has grown to
love so much
you'll notice your beauty
that covers endless realms
or your strength that could hurl a boulder
No one can help you discover
your destiny
it's your journey you'll have to make alone
but during the expedition and constant footsteps
the process of elimination could be your guide
find your inner child
it can help your prevail that's
where you once had happiness
your joy was established there
because if you continue the silencing
of your heart's cries and
your soul's screams
you'll live a life analogous to hell
and that is
a nightmare's worst dream
Copy Right 2014
©Patty Ann
Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 1:18 PM UTC
Hey you, are you hiring?
Business men dressed in 3 pieces, are you ready for this?
I don’t have much experience and I don’t have a fancy degree, but boy do I have SOUL. FUNK! A dazzling personality. And nice calves.
Assess me, judge me like you own a gavel.
Today I was walking along Paradise Lane, I stumbled over someone’s lost hope and fell on another’s pile of pride. Hey, I never said that I was ON Paradise Lane, friends.
Hey you, are you hiring?
Something on your breath doesn’t smell right, and the twinkle in your eye basically says that I was turned down from the moment I said, “Hello, my name is_________…”
Numbered. An unassociated member of free-thinking, I am in the business of dreams and tree forts, let me take YOU for a spin.
You wake up, dread doing so. All for some monkey in a 3 piece to put you in the system as a federal reserve payback bill.
HEY YOU, ARE YOU HIRING?!
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 3:56 PM UTC
Fading stains record the tender scheme of flagrant deliberation
Transparent in their defense of the illusion
Depicting careful consideration of honesty and reserve
While shattering the picture of your delusions
A saturation of recollection, distinctive in its eloquence
Briefly coercing the eyes to conceive
The continuation of a scheme hid in a shroud of confusion
Which refuses to change or ever leave
What would ever stain, yet without any imperfection
Expressing clear in all of its defense
Completely raw and uninhibited in the purest honesty
Yet leave your values standing on the fence
A love beyond comprehension is your tender scheme
The stains are your records of transparency
A continuation one cannot deny, when looking in your eyes
No illusions, just the pureness of honesty
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 10:03 PM UTC
I am an island.
I am a little spit of land,
Swept away by unsettled waters
and shifting sands;
Forced alone to
make my home
In an insubstantial sea.
Yet on my island
I am free; free to preserve
my eccentricities
in a nature reserve
made from nurturing love of
what I choose to be.
I am an island.
Borne away on wistful waves, I
travel onward,
Seeking a place where
there are others who are free;
And when I find them,
There I’ll stay, and
thereafter spend my days
Not as an island…
But as me.
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 3:35 PM UTC
Bear with me, I need to gather up the nerve,
to completely shower you with the love that you deserve.
You're thinking how to best throw the ball into a curve,
and I'm sinking, drowning in the words I still reserve.
We're sailing through the air
like rose petals from your hair,
lining the path to a room we can not enter.
We're beautifully torn
but the petals lack the thorn,
but still they ***** me and I bleed;
beauty claims the role of my tormentor.
Live with me, I'm not sure I can do it on my own,
keep me breathing, if you got an extra lung to loan.
I've been seeing stars and speckles in this twilight zone,
this struggle's repeating, look at how damaged I am,
and how quick I've grown.
We're sailing through the air
like rose petals ripped apart bare,
leading us to a door we could never open.
Our connection was born
but the petals lack the thorn,
the ****** and cuts come from all left unspoken.
The bouquet of your skin has dissolved
and the stems stretch further than we admit.
If nothing is started, it can't be resolved,
and I'm holding baby's breath; my stomach a deep pit.
I'm trying to solve a puzzle of invisibility
but my hands are broken and I lack the ability,
to decipher if the hues of grass in the pieces change shade,
if there's a side that's greener or just shadows cast on each blade.
We're sailing through the air
like rose petals without a care,
leading us into a trap we can't escape.
I tried my best to warn
that the petals still had a thorn,
it just seems now that it's a different shape.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 2:51 AM UTC
Often, on quiet days, I wade through forest paths to the outer most regions of town. Close to the brink of wilderness where the humming sounds of cars and popping noises of God knows what can still be observed. Yet, the pure land surrounding has been blessed to be untouched and unblemished. Here, I retreat. I circle the bend and climb a hill until I reach an isolated plateau of nature reserve. Where natural phenomenon rise and cease in incessant and lullabic oscillation. As if to unplug my mental cords and to store away my worry, fear, concepts and systems. I reach a haven of unity. Although I own no land for myself, out here I can't help but feel this lost land of paradise is fully mine. However, I would like to do away with the notion of possession and self and here I can get closer to doing so. As if I were a small, beautiful water droplet being plucked from that cruel water resistant surface and to glide gracefully back into an encompassing body of water where the temperature is the state of my mind. And on occasion I notice another solemn being, clearly human, stumbling down the same path I had managed to carve and from atop the raised plateau, I can watch them. They circle and turn back, but I can't help but wonder if they feel the same as I do. And sometimes I think to approach them slowly and calmly and inquire about philosophical concepts. But I wish not to disturb what is so beautifully held in the essence of the silent forest. I would wonder what knowledge or truths these men and women had attained during this life and if it were to resonate with my own. Or possibly to share. In the town and at the refill station I dare not to inquire about such trivial matters but instead I nod my head or note the weather. But I cannot help but imagine and sometimes even feel that there is something deep within us and the space and entities surrounding us that is ineffable and profound. Yet it seems that it is lost in the thicket of ideas, concepts, and biased reality just like the sunlight in a dense, cold, unlit forest. And I have convinced myself that if we could clear even enough of the baggage we carry as entrapped souls that we could create a more beautiful, serene, and harmonious state of unity and achieve transcendent heights of being right here and now.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC