Love Poems About Hemingway or Hemingway Love Poems
by Randall Smith |
Categories: love

Pearls

I don't need to be Hemingway...
Or anyone else....
I am comfortable being me
In lust with you....

My poem of a man....
A warrior...
Speaks all I can say
to you....

Golden curls and red lips
So excite me....
In my dreams 
Pearls are my gift to you
As I sleep....So loving.

by Denis Bruce |
Categories: life,

A Farewell To Arms

Is  
             When a tiny tot teeters on the brink of toddlerhood
             When your first love finds another
             When a reader discovers Hemingway
             When demob happy you exit the services
             When a treacherous IED is tripped
             When Death your soulmate snatches away.

by Keith Bickerstaffe |
Categories: funny,

Hirsute

Hirsute's been my inclination,
beard, and mustache too,
I've never liked to shave my face
since I was twenty-two.

Call me vain, I love my visage, 
even though I'm turning grey,
Hemingway had nothing on me,
even though he paved the way

to be a model for my kind,
though l can't be that kind of man,
yet I'll strive to look like him,
and emulate him when I can.

Adventurer, a big game hunter,
activities I don't embrace,
the closest that I'll get to Ernest
is the hair upon my face!


by Night Prophet |
Categories: deep, devotion, longing, love, meaningful, men,

Strange Magic

In the hazy light of a bedside lamp, Amongst books and postcards, And the words of a familiar song, You watch me sway to the tune. Caressing the silk stockings on my legs, You ask me if I’m seducing you. Heart-shaped glasses glowing in the dark, I say yes. It’s alarming that, Every move you make, Makes me catch my breath, Makes me shamelessly crazy for you. You have me by my broken heart, So that I miss you, Even when you’re next to me, Watching me take off my velvet dress. You talk about Joyce and Fitzgerald, And Hemingway and Lacan, But all I want to hear you say, Is your promise to never hurt me again.

by George Aul |
Categories: humor, valentines day,

Cupid Pulls Back the Bow

I have two words to say to you:
"Happy Valentine's Day!"
Sorry, I miscounted them--
I guess I'm no Hemingway

So let me think a bit
on what I want to convey,
I'm just trying to find the two
that lightly float up my airway

Search and search I must 
to find two words my love,
you make me feel so wonderful,
like a hand warm in a glove

Now after exhausting my brain
and finding the perfect two,
the best words I can say
are those ones: "I Love You!"

Oh, come on! That's still three!!
Well, "Happy Valentine's Day!"
You know you're not with a genius,
but how's my Hemingway?

by L. J. Carber |
Categories: introspection, love, world,

Resignation, Number One

WHEN I WAS YOUNGER,
I DREAMT OF WRITING LIKE CAMUS.
THINKING LIKE SARTRE,
LIVING LIKE HEMINGWAY,
AND ALL IN GOD'S CONSTANT GRACE.

I THOUGHT I SUFFERED INDIA'S HUNGER
AND AMERICA'S AFFLUENCE,
BUT ACTUALLY,
I WAS CAREFREE--AND CARELESS.

NOW, THOUGH STILL A YOUNG MAN
(31 is an odd age, but safe)
I WANT LESS, MUCH LESS--
FAME, FORTUNE, KNOWLEDGE, PASSION,
EVEN HOPE...

IF THE WORLD IS INDEED DOOMED,
I WILL LOVE IT TILL ITS LAST DAY--
AND IF THE WORLD IS GOD BLESSED,
I WILL STILL LOVE IT TILL ITS LAST DAY.

IF I CANNOT CREATE LIKE A GIANT, THEN
I WILL WRITE WITH A SMALLER HAND
AND UTTER NOISES IN A LOWER TONE.

(This poem was written in the late 1970's)

by Keith Bickerstaffe |
Categories: history,

Ernest

Hirsute's been my inclination, 
beard, and mustache too, 
I've never liked to shave my face 
since I was twenty-two. 

Call me vain, I love my visage, 
even though I'm turning grey, 
Hemingway had nothing on me, 
even though he paved the way 

to be a model for my kind, 
though l can't be that man, 
yet I'll strive to look like him, 
and emulate him when I can. 

Adventurer, a big game hunter?
activities I don't embrace, 
the closest that I'll get to Ernest 
is the hair upon my face!

by Jan Oskar Hansen |
Categories: business, care, celebration, celebrity,

The Mist

The Mist
Cascais was enveloped in a silky, grey fog last night
that reminded me of Marilyn Dietrich silk- stockings
she wore in an ad many years ago.
Ernest Hemingway and her were a great love story
not consumed.
Above the stockings, a nearly full moon shone, it 
gave hope for the future, the lockdown will soon end
it will be ok, but not as before taking life for granted.

by Keith Bickerstaffe |
Categories: humor,

Ernest

Hirsute's been my inclination, 
beard, and mustache too, 
I've never liked to shave my face 
since I was twenty-two. 

Call me vain, I love my visage, 
even though I'm turning grey, 
Hemingway had nothing on me, 
even though he paved the way 

to be a model for my kind, 
though l can't be that man, 
yet I'll strive to look like him, 
and emulate him when I can. 

Adventurer, a big game hunter?
activities I don't embrace, 
the closest that I'll get to Ernest 
is the hair upon my face!

by Keith Bickerstaffe |
Categories: self,

Ernest

Hirsute's been my inclination, 
beard, and mustache too, 
I've never liked to shave my face 
since I was twenty-two. 

Call me vain, I love my visage, 
even though I'm turning grey, 
Hemingway had nothing on me, 
even though he paved the way 

to be a model for my kind, 
though l can't be that man, 
yet I'll strive to look like him, 
and emulate him when I can. 

Adventurer, a big game hunter?
activities I don't embrace, 
the closest that I'll get to Ernest 
is the hair upon my face!

by Jan Hansen |
Categories: absence, angst, april,

a true sentence

A true sentence 

As Hemingway said, start with a true sentence
the roof of the school building, I can see from 
where I sit on a cloudy day is grey as lead
when lit up by sunlight that has broken through 
the clouds, it turns silvery and pleasant to see
That is, a true sentence about what I see, but it
is not what I'm thinking is a love story that
began a summer's day, lasted with its drama
when days got shorter and the wind bitter
leaves shrunk and fell on a rainy street
The true sentence is the gripping sadness
the knowledge that the best of my time has gone    


by Abdullah Alhemaidy |
Categories: writing,

Hemingway

Hemingway is nice big writer won Nobel Prize in Literature

I really love to read Hemingway do you love to read him too?