Poetry for Love: An American Poetic Anthology Focused on Art and Love

Young American Poetry for Love

This is another collection of poems to appear in Alma Mater II, and focused in content on art and love, as part of my American-centered poetry. In particular, the poem Surreal is Our Love is to appear in several publications, most recently, in the American Anthology, “Stars in Our Hearts” (Library of Congress ISBN 978-1-60880-123-7). The poem has been also called to appear in at least two other pending anthologies of young American poetry.  At least another half dozen of my poems have appeared in various anthologies by the International Society of Poetry, poetry.com, and various American poetry organizations.

Crown of Thorns

Purple is the fabric that covers the pillow

shines neatly below the cross and next to the crown
the crown of thorns without flowers, to mitigate our pain

the crown is heavy with sharp thorns, and no roses there.

The white flowers were lilies with sharp long stems
which I painted in colors to bring you peace and hope
were despair had ignited passion, and retrieved
older forgotten glories never delivered in love.

The now rotten rose, was still unopen, but rigid
its perfume was still intact, yet paradoxically rotten
with the fragance of love, smell of passion, sweet
with a stem radiating heat of feelings, living feelings.

In the end, there are no thorns, no sharp spines

only a long soft kiss that elevated our souls
you recall that you were looking for me the day we met
so love was not a coincidence, but the result of
your strong pursue.

Sunday of Love without Fantasies

We spend the entire day in bed

relieving the tension and the stress

we navigate over passion and love

resting, our bodies sweat all nude.

We struggle to determine when it happened

that friendship vanished and love took over

flowers bloom over the spills of the unconscious

we constrain our bed to our silent murmurs.

The long day stretches the morning

forgetting the duties promised during the week

neglected go around the wandering tasks

that neither of us signed for this Saturday.

We struggle to set the right positions

teaching one another the art of love

the flowers on the table dropping petals

that I bring red over your pillow.

The scent mixed with the natural perfumes

go vanishing over the threshold of the night

where dinner awaits us, before we find out

that it is already Monday, and dawn is in the air.

Being Together

Being together means loving each other
you see me, and look for me in your past

yet I am your present, and also am I your search
each day you wake up, I am there with you.

We dream the same dream, touching our bodies

all along the dream

we drive together all along the landscape

inherited from our dreams, and you smile

as happiness embraces you, and you lean on me.

The drizzle is speaking of the future

our kisses reflect on the city's skyline

the moon is a white box, rounded, bright,
and imperfect.

The sun wakes us up in a place we do not know
and we do not know yet about our past, yet...
we are delighted that our solitude is what unites us.

First Class Man, Second Class Woman

(or Seduced by the Singer)

We make love in an upscale hotel room

I am the king, and I look like a young Gerald Ford
I see you dance nude, singing a song that...

you want sing on stage

and as time passes, we overcome the cold,

the room is now hot.

I kiss your body, that brings me recalls

yet I don't play, nor I ever have casual sex

I want to take you always my way, so you enter

my real world, that you forever forget the zero sum.

You enter today, but it is all gone the next day

as you missed the school day, and there is
no make-up day

there is only your nude silhouette that vanishes

in the shadows of passion.

Yet I am still the wealthy young man who made a mistake
loving you in the shadow of happiness, because

you surrendered to me what others wished most from you, for them.

Surreal is our Love

Surreal is our love. paint it, in blue, in carmine, in orange.

Let the colors vanish in lines that can dissolve into blends.

Let the lines speak of shapes and trust
that my verses travel on each point in each delicate line.

Surreal is our friendship that spans into love feelings,
unknown to the present, unknown to our ages,

we love each other naively

like two youngsters that went to school together.

Let me kiss your lips in the shadow of happiness
against our own will, destiny takes over our souls

and unites us without despair.

Surreal is Dali, lines dressed in colors

espresso served very hot, caressing your lips and mine

breaking the fear, our hearts beat next to each other.

Wine Tastes like Love

Wine silences the claps of pleasure

words wake us up not to argue, but to say “I love you” letters say the truth inspired by solitude, not mine
flowers are being brought to you in my name.

Voices say the truth about us that cannot be hidden
silent is again the driver of our feelings
our hearts join the deep feelings we have for each other
water blesses our steps, as we walk in a hidden garden.

The village opens the doors of the past, reverses time.

It is sweet like honey, as we accept each other into love
for it blesses us provisioning each time for all
by uttering words we can understand naturally.

Our courage for love is great, as you and I are having dinner
while France's wines are served uniting us, and we rejoice
sharing glasses of wine, red and white, giving flowers,
our kisses separate us from others who desired you by instinct.

Our silence is our witness, that we truly love each other
the pleasure is yet to come in the shadow of happiness
the long solitude ends, as others depart from nearby
the beauty is indeed yours, always all yours.