Tag: how to write a love poem

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (V)

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“Your name”

The world was still new,
uncertain shapes and sounds,
when first
you heard your name.
“Lizzy” could have been an apple,
or a butterfly, or a sunset in spring,
but its syllables
became a seed,
the sprout of your center.

Little by little
you grew comfortable
with the sound and the colors
in your name,
its wings sailed
from voice to voice,
crossing
the houses and streets and trees,
making its way
to the peak of a dream.

At the first competition
it seemed the chilly name of another.

It was not yet you,
its essence was untested,
so you went seeking,
searching in weary mirrors,
in questioning shadows,
in solitude,
until you found
its true voice singing
in the slow light of dedication.

It was then it lingered,
and stopped a Blurtso that passed,
thinking it was the echo of an apple,
or a butterfly, or spring.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (IV)

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“Moonrise”

Just above whirl the sparks
and the planets in space.
Their silver tails leave wounds
on the dark glass of the sky.

Tonight the moon mounts
the slow steps of the spheres,
raised like an idol by holy hands,
scaling the edge of the night.

At the summit the light lingers,
awaiting its worldly worship,
then descends, riding on ropes,
borne on the back of the air.

Like a burning crystal,
the moon has been sent for you.
It lights and carries your name
to a place beyond the sound
of the whistle and whirl of stars.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (III)

blurtso3056

“Lizzy”

A single obsession of light,
a single smile
in the soil of the soul,
a flash in the shadow,
a burning planet,
a single note from the spheres.

A single light illuminating
the water’s crash
at the cliffs of the heart,
a leaping light of statues
erected and razed in the foam,
an undulating light reflecting
the swell and hollow and sway.

A simple light persisting,
in absence,
an extinguished star that continues.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (II)

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What’s that you’ve been writing? said Alex. It’s a collection of poems, said Blurtso. A collection? said Alex. Yes, said Blurtso, for Lizzy. I’m calling it, Graham Cracker Crumbs. Why? said Alex. Because when I see her pass, said Blurtso, and then she’s gone, I feel as empty as an empty pie tin. Oh, said Alex, and the poems are the crumbs that remain? Yes, said Blurtso, the remnants of my lost rapture. Can I hear one? said Alex. Sure, said Blurtso, this is about the time I saw her limping across campus. I call it, “O my love limps so!”

“O my love limps so!

“The birds were sweetly chirping
and the grass was growing green,
as I waited on my bench
for the jenny of my dreams.

While the shadows slowly passed,
not a vision did I spy,
‘til suddenly across the grass,
a limping caught my eye.

My love is sorely stricken,
she’s suff’ring and distressed!
Her left rear hoof is lagging,
is lagging behind the rest!

Oh lovely injured unguis!
Oh tender cloven pes!
Of late so sweet enticing,
now dragging on the grass.

Oh ass! Oh hoof! Oh ankle
so twisted and exposed!
The pain that’s in your heel
pricks the loving heart that knows!

That’s very good, said Alex, but what’s an “unguis”? “Unguis,” said Blurtso, is the Latin word for hoof. What about “pes”? said Alex. “Pes” is the Latin word for foot. Oh, said Alex, I guess Latin’s not very poetic. No, said Blurtso, I guess not.