Wayward Love Poems To Lost Lovers

[todski28]

a place to put down those thoughts that wont leave you
a place for those that wont go
a place to put those you wish you hadn't met

 

[todski28]

We Owned The Night, Even If It Was Fleeting

I draw lines on glass cut with aces
the stains remain
after the sharp inhale
I lick those last remnants
greedy to fill the emptiness
of holes shotgun blasted
through the epicentre
of my chest

there's an empire of dirt best seen through
owl sized eyes
oh the things that scurry and hide beneath
a hunters moon
it touches nervous tics and over fired neurons
the night is mine shrieks
with talons wide

my heart hurts
racing like horses thundering
over barren plains
froth at their lips
beauty in the chaotic rapture

you could have it all
an empire built in the squalid
wanderings of the damned
bring me black with a scythe like light
that cuts into my prey

let me take you to hedonistic realms
taste my tongue on you lips
the flavour of smoke
swirls in delicious cancer

wisps lick your neck
drift as dreams of coke
fuck your soul
and we
we owned the night
we bled the blood of carnage
and you
are still tattooed
on the inside of my eyelids

 

[todski28]

box full of matches

I've skated through this
torrid life
a pyro

smell of gasoline everywhere
ready and willing to ignite
to burn down in a blaze of fucking glory

I have this neat trick
place the match head down
on the striker
using the thumb of my left hand to hold it
flick it with my right

it flies
a shooting flame that dazzles
through the air

they come closer
to see the spectacle
unaware
unsuspecting

combusting on impact
I hold them as they combust
my arms and chest a
scar spangled tapestry
I huff the scent of fuel
and melted flesh
retching on the stench

but I need them to burn
so I can feel alive in the bonfires
of lust

because I don't know what love is

sometimes I think
I see sparks of it
in embers as they
float away

 

[legerdemer]

box full of matches


I've skated through this
torrid life
a pyro

I smell gasoline everywhere
ready and willing to ignite
to burn down in a blaze of fucking glory
to revel in the burn

I have this neat trick
place the match head down
on the striker
using the thumb of my left hand to hold it
flick it with my right

it flares
a shooting flame that dazzles
through the air

they come closer
to see the spectacle
unaware
unsuspecting

they combust
I hold them as they burn
my arms and chest a
scar spangled tapestry
I huff the scent of fuel
and melted flesh
retching on the stench

but I need them to burn
so I can feel alive in the bonfires
of lust

because I don't know what love is

sometimes I think
I see the sparks of it
in the embers as they
float away

Topped with a lovely last stanza!

 

[todski28]

I would gaze into the depths
of your navel
the core of you
as I tongue the lines of
your pudenda

mapping the contours
into stargazed moments
so I can find my way
over the geography
set up camp
where a waterfall's cascade
is sweet

I need this now
to drip
the essence of you
into my mouth
the tang and subtle aromas
work like no other aphrodisiac

passions inflamed I become dictator
of motion in this come again back and fourth
the reverberations of you
felt through my neck
running down my spine

the embers of the fire slink down
to white flakes of ash
you lay there dress torn
hair a mess
just one more cry into the dark
accomplishing nothing

 

[todski28]

a blonde cliche in tight shorts
and relationship queries
she needed answers too

i laughed at him
because i thought i was the bigger man

she wanted me
well, me
and my friend

the
two of them kissing
while I took oral liberties
listening to them
describe in breathless whispers
what I was doing
as I swapped answers
to questions thay rolled off my tongue

it always comes back to sex
this circle of assumptions
doubts
asking what is masculine
defining it in the bulge of my pants
the taste of vagina

she came to my house the following week
but i'd taken what i wanted
her questions were answered

she knew who the better man was

i still feel small

 

[champagne1982]

Your name was forgotten twenty
minutes after I finished
bouncing on your pelvis, lain flat
on the field map table, surrounded
with the smell of canvas and gun
oil and freshly cut spruce.
We staggered into that tent
tearing button holes and breaking
skin with our teeth and nails.
Fell against a solid surface,
my bare ass on the edge while
you knelt and feasted on ripe
peach. All I wanted was that girth
inside me, begging for you
to put it in. I was too tight
you said but suddenly my flood
of orgasmed wetness put friction
aside and we knew fucking
should always sound so good.
Only in the morning, did I wonder
where in hell my panties were.

 

[todski28]

Your name was forgotten twenty
minutes after I finished
bouncing on your pelvis, lain flat
on the field map table, surrounded
with the smell of canvas and gun
oil and freshly cut spruce.
We staggered into that tent
tearing button holes and breaking
skin with our teeth and nails.
Fell against a solid surface,
my bare ass on the edge while
you knelt and feasted on ripe
peach. All I wanted was that girth
inside me, begging for you
to put it in. I was too tight
you said but suddenly my flood
of orgasmed wetness put friction
aside and we knew fucking
should always sound so good.
Only in the morning, did I wonder
where in hell my panties were.

this is ripe with the concept that sometimes we are just skin, that needs other skin,

a flashpoint of humanity
crying out into the night

sometimes those are the moments that come back when it's quiet.

beautifully written, thanks for the addition to the thread

 

[KayBlank]

It would be something that was never done
Repeated thru days of sharing a care for quiet
Gestures that finish completely as a plate
Is put down neatly in front of a chair that's
Never pulled back from the table. A place
Prepared and kept clean and empty as
A memory of a word for a name that's not
Used now there's not a body to answer to it.
Your distance is still aware in its kindness, its
Unending being brought in from the west.

 

[Angeline]

It would be something that was never done
Repeated thru days of sharing a care for quiet
Gestures that finish completely as a plate
Is put down neatly in front of a chair that's
Never pulled back from the table. A place
Prepared and kept clean and empty as
A memory of a word for a name that's not
Used now there's not a body to answer to it.
Your breath is still coming in from the west.

Love your poem. Welcome!

 

[KayBlank]

Thank you, Angeline.

It's good to be here

 

[todski28]

It would be something that was never done
Repeated thru days of sharing a care for quiet
Gestures that finish completely as a plate
Is put down neatly in front of a chair that's
Never pulled back from the table. A place
Prepared and kept clean and empty as
A memory of a word for a name that's not
Used now there's not a body to answer to it.
Your distance is still aware in its kindness, its
Unending being brought in from the west.

welcome Kay,

truly nostalgic, the loss and tragedy is palpable, in the mundane of normality hides a loss.

thanks for the poem

 

[KayBlank]

Thanks. It was a loss. But I hope the poem makes something of it. A way to live in the everyday with the loss unhidden, so it will heal clean.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

It's a kind of guilt you see
for what i did.
I stole her husband
excused in my mind that
she didn't want him.
Banished from her bed
when he still had needs
that I was willing to fulfil.
Over the years we mended
to a fragile friendship,
I was welcome in her house
and she in mine,
but I didn't encourage it.
But now? Now more than what I did
has been stolen, as her mind
insidiously slips away.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

It's a kind of guilt you see
for what i did.
I stole her husband
excused in my mind that
she didn't want him.
Banished from her bed
when he still had needs
that I was willing to fulfil.
Over the years we mended
to a fragile friendship,
I was welcome in her house
and she in mine,
but I didn't encourage it.
But now? Now more than what I did
has been stolen, as her mind
insidiously slips away.

Interesting take on the theme. Nice - but sad - ending.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

Demarcation

There’s a bitter
autumnal taste
twixt teeth and cheek,
tongue and numbness.
Arms ache with an
unaccustomed fatigue
and the beat goes on
day after dread day.
Agonizing over you,
your absence, my betrayal
that seems more like
prayer, is a cul-de-sac
sucking me dry, desiccating
your memory to trail mix
to be consumed when
starving.

 

[todski28]

Interesting take on the theme. Nice - but sad - ending.

I concur, very good write and interesting take, thanks

 

[Tzara]

Your name was forgotten twenty
minutes after I finished
bouncing on your pelvis, lain flat
on the field map table, surrounded
with the smell of canvas and gun
oil and freshly cut spruce.
We staggered into that tent
tearing button holes and breaking
skin with our teeth and nails.
Fell against a solid surface,
my bare ass on the edge while
you knelt and feasted on ripe
peach. All I wanted was that girth
inside me, begging for you
to put it in. I was too tight
you said but suddenly my flood
of orgasmed wetness put friction
aside and we knew fucking
should always sound so good.
Only in the morning, did I wonder
where in hell my panties were.

The Next Morning

I found her underwear
on the floor of the tent. Damp,
though the air was cold, so

maybe it was just the morning dew.
I wadded the thin cotton
into a ball I pocketed,

like a lucky quarter
or a business card from a woman
I'd met in a Holiday Inn

in Wayzata, Minnesota
some years ago—an entomologist
researching the locust plague.

I tried to remember
how it felt to have my cock
inside her,

but that was yesterday,
and I knew she'd left by now, going
somewhere West

and North, away
from any place I'd ever likely be,
and I finally discarded

the small knot of her panties,
and set out for Henry's bar
to try and snag some other woman's thong.

 

[champagne1982]

this is ripe with the concept that sometimes we are just skin, that needs other skin,

a flashpoint of humanity
crying out into the night

sometimes those are the moments that come back when it's quiet.

beautifully written, thanks for the addition to the thread

Thank you for the title!

"flashpoint of humanity"

 

[UnderYourSpell]

The petals have fallen
from the frost in your smile,
Now all that is left
is a sodden red pile.
But I'll wait for the Summer
and grow roses red
over the the place of
your cosy soil bed.
The body refused me,
the flashing blue eyes
will make perfect growth
and a rose fertilise.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I'm so sorry
I divorced you,
now that you're dead
I'd have got all of
the house,
not just half.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

The blizzard of your affection
is as overwhelming and welcome
as ten foot snow drifts
on the road to Church!

 

[Tzara]

Washington, D.C.

What does wet mean to you?
she asked as she sat
on the steps

of the Capitol, legs
drawn up so that
she exposed the backs of her thighs.

I was trying not to stare,
but I noticed the damp
at the crux of her shorts

and she probably noticed how my jeans
tightened as well and then she took
my hand.

My crotch hurt all the way
across the mall until
we finally closed the door to our room.

 

[Piscator]

Sour Grapes

It's not as if I've been avoiding you,
as that I've ceased to seek you out.
The results, however are much the
same, the frequency of our encounters
has fallen precipitously.

What with Wonder Boy crashing through again
less a little luster, a trifle tarnished, part
of the price of living each day
as if it were your last.

Me, I bide my time
finding rather than noble
passion, only bemused indifference.
don't worry bebe, you'll soon find another crutch.

From another time and place

 

[Angeline]

Never Was

The dead man stomped at me, tried to hurt but he was just an icy cloud.