Love Poems About Abominable or Abominable Love Poems
by Sabbath De Yecouba |
Categories: family,

Disability Not Inability

She has overwhelmed me with her love
My love is not for legs
Not only her skin texture
The properly shaped head neither

Her thoughts can entrance
Those of a woman without disability
They say I am accursed
That loving her is abominable

Yet they admire the outward look only
And ignore her for her outward look
Like disables are barren and disrespect her inward beauty
They thought she would not conceive

And now they wonder
They ask me, “How did you make it?”
For our son is healthy and sound
Now they know, disability is not inability

by Daniel Schack |
Categories: america, angel, animal, appreciation, april, art,


Hatred is actually an elegant, hyper-real, and beautiful reality, feeling, and emotion in response and retaliation to the abominable absence of love and respect and equality in the present world and reality we currently exist in.

by Deb Wilson |
Categories: fantasy, love, love, me,

Big Love

The dust of my dreams has been blown away.
For I met the love of my life one day.
He's covered in fur and twelve foot three.
Yes,he's a little bit taller than me!

Some call him Bigfoot,Sasquatch or Yeti.
But I just call him home for spaghetti!
It took a woman like me to tame him.
That he fell for me,well who could blame him?

I have all the traits Sasquatch could desire.
The Abominable Snowman and I are like fire.
He knows I'm loveable as can be.
That's why he fell so hard for me.

He swept me off my feet you know.
Our love is pure as driven snow.

for contest"Ridiculous Self-Exaggerations"
sponsored by Susan Burch

by Jesse Jones |
Categories: confusion, children, imagination, lost love, love, mystery, sad,

She Is Black and White

“She is black and white,”
she is my wintry queen-angel.
She inhabits the icy cold cavernous spaces
in my mind. She feeds me Turkish delights.
She drives her dogsled through my heart at midnight,
her expression frigid, her eyes like piercing icicles
Her wolves howling with every crack of the whip.
She is crazy. She is awesome. She is evil.

by Anoucheka Gangabissoon |
Categories: growing up, happy, life, lonely, love,

To Myself

Is it a must to be in a couple?
I find life pleasurable as a single
It gives me time to write
Time to search for my height

If it is such a must to be in a couple
Why is is that around me, I see only pain
Everything becomes always disagreeable
Love, after some time, does become a disdain!

Why, I have had my share of love
Once, when I was yet a joyful dove
Chirping madly away, laughing the day away
But love showed me its evil side on that day

Since then, I chose to live only as a single
But it seems that being single means being weird
So, should I succumb and be no more abominable?
Should I follow the route as does most of the herd?

by Christy Stover |
Categories: inspiration, writing,

Perfect Poetry

follow these guidelines
to make your poetry
really truly shine
      make sure you don't rhyme
      you're not in a nursery
      this isn't kiddy story time
always restrict yourself
you don't want your poem in
a forgotten book on a shelf
       oh, stay far far away
       from this next poetry sin
       the abominable sin of cliche
you can't write for you
you must only write for me
never ever forget to
       obey these stone set rules
       to write perfect poetry
       you can only use my tools! 

(Author's note: Forget the so called rules. Write what you love how you love to write it! Happy writing, my friends).

by Christy Stover |
Categories: abuse, love hurts,

A Weapon Called Love

when stretched and twisted
love becomes a weapon
an impulse never resisted
primal urge unforgotten
    that is the excuse
    for devious behavior
    for letting dark passions loose
    while claiming to be a savior
the pick and choose
of absurd distortions
no one wants to lose
their abominable corruptions
    but condemnation is never quiet
    and deceptions never subside
    the soul is always in debt
    in whom can evil love confide?

by Sky Walker |
Categories: birth,

The Abominable Love

Their hearts longed for each other’s touch

An abominable love

Bound by the shackles of marriage

Limited to the region of Imagination

Like desperate sperms seeking to be born,

Their souls searched for a world where their love would be accommodated

Both dreaming about a love they could not withhold

Never knowing, that what they felt for each other was real and controlled

And lost in depths of despair

They lived the remainder of their lives

Bound by a union which was unfair