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Love Poems About Abject or Abject Love Poems
by Caren Krutsinger |
Categories: fun, poems, poetess, poetry, poets, word play, write,

A Poem for Fun

A poem for fun
I laugh delightedly 
Because they all are

A poem cannot be
Anything else
Because patrons are gone

No one pays for poems
Poems are thoughts
Turned onto paper

By people who 
Know how to turn
Their brains 
Inside out

Not easily admitting it
due to the

Abject lack 
Of appreciation
And respect

My besties
My tribe
I love you so.

by Erica Lewis |
Categories: angst, introspection, life, loss, love, philosophy


Sweet apocalyptic frailty
seeps from weary sighs

Punctuated words we love
or love-words we despise

Body-rocking self-hatred
that drags us from the light

Idealism, perfection
thieves that rape us in the night

Car wrecks and too much sex
things that make us feel

taint of success, abject failure
things that make us real

by Aleck Solier |
Categories: angst, lost love, love, sad,


Memories are all I have,
Intense and suffocating.
Churned out emotions needing salves
Healed, yet unrelenting

Abject surrender to your wiles
Embittered by time
Looming reminiscence of your smiles
Sealed in my mind

Anguishing on a future lost
Grieving over what once was, 
Agonizing at what it has cost
Remembering mem'ries of a distant past

by Emile Pinet |
Categories: bible, christian, faith, feelings, imagery, religion,

History Sees A Man

The cross, is a symbol of abject suffering and base brutality that haunts humanity. Jesus died, on the cross, a vile instrument of degenerate torture causing anguish and death. I find it curious, that Christens venerate such a gruesome image to symbolize God's love. How many innocent people died on the cross, in the name of Jesus by so called, pious priests? A crucified figure hanging in agony, in no way represents a compassionate God. From His own testament Jesus Christ, was a Jew and He prayed to Yahweh His one and only, God. Although a great healer and a Jewish Rabi, history sees a man and sadly, so do I.

by Faye Gibson |
Categories: devotion, love,

Sonnet XI

What sounds, what pictures can express your grace?
I search my soul to lay fast claim on words
that will depict the worship you have stirred
with in my breast. Alas, they fly apace, 
and I am mute. My love, I would abase
myself and to your merit mine defer;
o, could I conjure up the golden word
that would my imagery of you embrace!
I long to lift my voice in praise of thee;
yet, evermore in speechless wonder stand
that one who walks in nobl'st purity
would enter in and grace my barren land.
Do see my debt, my abject poverty,
how they must speak what words cannot command.

Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, 1987

by Emile Pinet |
Categories: angst, anxiety, break up, emotions, feelings, heartbreak, lost love,

The Arms Of Sleep

Sitting in abject solitude
I’m left all alone with my thoughts.
For devastated by your words
you abandoned me to their sting.

I can hear the thud of my heart
racing to accommodate fear.
And its throbbing pulse is so loud
I can't think of anything else.

Anxiety sends each heartbeat
pulsing and pounding in my ear.
And burning my cheeks with their heat
tears flow to extinguish my pain.

I begin to question my worth
cringing inside my broken heart.
And gathering my memories
I slip into the arms of sleep.

by wahab abdul |
Categories: april, woman, women,



Woman I am not 
Yet I love to fight for their rights 
For women they themselves could not better organize 
Due to their being feeble and weak 
Yet they could play their immense importance 
If they know how they are deprived 
And snatch away their independence 
Woman I am not 
Yet I love to fight their rights 
As I know how they are suppressed all over the world 
They are used and misused in every place 
Though few of them know clearly 
But I know something what the oppressors do not know 
If they are given full freedom 
Then with their hands and head they can 
Contribute half of your GDP 
And help you to come out free from your abject poverty. 


by nur holis |
Categories: rose,


Thorns removed
Leaving me naked, disgraced, abject
tearful between those
who make love

by njeri hunjeri |
Categories: sky,

The world above the sky

I have few words to tell her, great feelings
Of her; that my love is not money; my love
Abides in abject situations but still
My love blossoms in the world above the sky

For the world that I hope
For the world that I wish for
For the plans that I make
The sky marks the limit

You are my one and only 
You are a soul ablaze 
You are my past and my future
You for eternal
A treasure at hand

Written between 2000-2003 
Just the young thoughts of the young mind

by fauxcroft wade |
Categories: humanity, light, love, pain, world,

A world needs a heart and soul

We live in world that's lost its heart and soul

By those who rule and exert too much control

We live in a world of rot and decay

Caused by the greed few who are so abject and depraved

Sipping on their champagne

As we feel the pain

Time and time again.

We should live in a world with a heart and soul

A world that is warm, caring and not so cold

We should live in a world where there's enough for all

A world of visionaries dreamers leading the call

For a better way to live in love peace and equality

Finding true harmony

Together in unity

Rediscovering our humanity.

by Caren Krutsinger |
Categories: anti bullying, betrayal, bullying, feelings, psychological, sad love, wife,

The Happiest Front

Jacque was the happiest of newlyweds on the outside
She dressed fastidiously.  Walked with her joyful head up.
She had many excuses. She could never take time to sup.
Her smile helped her pretend she was a well-loved satisfied bride

Jacque was keeping her honest betrayed feelings deep inside.
She was cheery, and happy, keeping in her abject sadness.
Stuck in a battle, she could never hope to win, a madness.
Hoping to help her husband with rage he could no longer hide.

Written Feb 20, 2019
Contest: Enclosed Rhyme
Sponsor: Emile Pinet

by Katherine Braithwaite |
Categories: absence, death, fathers day, god,

Golden clouds of fire

Alone in  my small room ,end-state despair
I wondered what to do ,go here or where?
I tried the doctor and the priest  and then
Knew there was no answer from   a man

I saw in my mind’s eye a  tunnel black
To which I was dead heading on my track
Abject and broken by a lover’s death
By his own hand, he tested out God’s wrath

Then I was  held by  golden  clouds of fire
I felt the  kindest love , the Lord’s desire
The tears ran down my cheeks in one great gush,
Acknowledging acceptance without wrath

And so I  turned  to life and to my work
Pain and torment shall not make me shirk

by Maurice Rigoler |
Categories: humor, language,

My English Teacher

My english teacher, with love and conviction,
did her best to improve our foul diction.
No easy task, we now admit in retrospect;
for it robbed her patience and left her abject.
Her farewell talk was best of all, for once
we understood her clearly, every nuance.
For every word she used was ordinary,
just like the foulest of our vocabulary.

by Caren Krutsinger |
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade, 5th grade, 6th grade, 7th grade, 8th grade, 9th grade,

Banjoist and I were Not To Be

I fell in love with a banjoist who was playing in a gym
He had blackshank but I did not know when I fell in love with him.
I was a carhop drawing caricatures at a Diner named Big Jim.
We knew we would have to live in a tent our future rather dim.
We figured necessary expenses. What could we truly trim?
Electricity, rent, and water. We felt we really needed them.
Our leap of faith would put us way out on a frugal limb.
Due to our future abject poverty I had to release him.
A millionaire named Monique later married him on a whim.

by Fred Jagenberg |
Categories: animal, murder,


Pulled the pig to pork, a cannibal delights
Carnage seals the man with death
Final moments marked irrelevant
Flesh defends, abject betrayal dwells

Selfish kills to self-sustain
Sacrifice of squealing swiftly justified
Lacking passion living violence profane
Carry on promoting death inside

Render on without a shame
“Survival takes a certain path”
Awaken to your love of death
Choose your plate-full of discordant wrath

by Brian Cochran |
Categories: beauty, flower, imagery, symbolism,

Post Mortem

Distant melancholic music plays.
Dead flowers swoon and sway
In the molten breeze of an August afternoon.
Colors lost too soon,
Faded and forsaken by the relentless beat
Of an angry sun.
Forlorn and forgotten by the living,
Sight and scent no longer giving pleasure
To jaded eyes ever longing
For the newness of things.
Alas, death saves its own,
Finding home in a wasteland 
of discarded memories and long lost days,
Resurrected in hearts and minds
Held captive by the lure and love
Of the simple abject beauty of decay.