Love Poems About Siamese or Siamese Love Poems
by Jermaine Kirimi |
Categories: passion, art, art,

Expression

Poetry is the art of expression,
like a magnet attracts the poles,
poetry attracts my feeble heart,
till the feeling of lust surpasses love,
till the meaning of love becomes lust,
making me connected like the Siamese,
interconnection like blood vampires,
a mere myth but they create an empire,
the emotional attachment is tattooed,
embedded in my soul like a bad curse,
engraved like the tablets of moses,
then conjugated to show the rhythm,
to show the flow... not too low,
to melodies the flow... to grow,
yes poetry is the art of expression.

by Samiha Zubair |
Categories: deep, devotion, love,

Always Known

Indemnify for your goodwill eternally, I fail to be.....even

Goaded kaleidoscope makes one feel lucky to have titillating summons....with

No egregious sentiments even on accolated appraisal of you with....her

Soul shackled in cyclone of karma always pave it's terminus towards...you

Neither jostled by the violent gusts, nor worried for the inedible obstacles en route there...are

Peep over the wide expanse of the siamese past and future to others may seem...still

Every beat harps the same note that even now you are still...mine

17/08/2015

by Line Gauthier |
Categories: christmas, desire, muse, pets, poetry, uplifting,

Christmas Wish

On Christmas Day
she’ll be waking up extra early
running down the stairs
to check under the tree

Hoping Santa left for her
that special gift of her desire --
she wrote and asked for a pet, you see

One that she would love and pamper
a pet who would keep her company
and stay ever faithfully by her side

She was hoping with all my heart
to find this year under the tree 
a glamorous Siamese fighting fish
to call her own in all its splendor



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Submitted on December 18, 2018 for contest CHRISTMAS PETS - WRITING CHALLENGE DECEMBER 2018 sponsored by DEAR HEART  -  RANKED 3RD


by Hannington Mumo |
Categories: character,

When Writers Meet

Writers are identical birds of a feather,
 Siamese twins of the selfsame womb.
 Their meeting is an eerie serendipity,
 Whether alive or in the quiet of the tomb. 

Their labors crackle to a symphony,
 Their pens merge to a scribbling sound
 That, if well listened to, is the whisper
 Of Mother Nature's love to those around. 

Though rare, when a writer meets a writer
 The prickly burdens of existence get lighter.

by Opemipo Akinsoyinu |
Categories: inspirational, love, on writing and wordsnight, night,

Me and U

The glorious end and her shaking beginning
The majestic night and the bravura morn
The dark night and the blue morn
December and January

Today tells a tale of yesterday
Today a retrospect of what it was
Break-up’s siamese, make-up
Child and mother

The egg and the fowl
The egg, oh the egg
The rain and the sun
I and we

Can I stand the tall test?
I, I! Like a ram charging
Can I stand the test?
For her patience is wild wild wait.

by Stuck In Sepia |
Categories: confusion, fantasy, imagination, lost love, love,

In a Daydream

In a daydream, it's easier to breathe
In a daydream, I'm not begging from my knees
In a daydream, the world consists of You and I
In a daydream, I never feel the need to cry

In a daydream, we're walking side by side
In a daydream, there's still lustre in your eyes
In a daydream, there's no darkness in our past
In a daydream, we're happy at long last

In a daydream, it's easy as it seems
In a daydream, we are still Siamese
In a daydream, moon light will guide our way
In a daydream is where I shall stay..

by Millard Lowe |
Categories: analogy, black african american, eulogy, family, imagery, tribute,

My Uncles' Hands Were Strong

My Uncles’ Hands Were Strong…
My uncles’ hands were strong:
fathering children they never had.
My uncles’ hands were strong;
yet gentle like the chiseled hands
of Michelangelo’s Pieta:
strong saintly shooting hands
that touched tender souls with gentleness 
only undying love could give.

On their bent backs
rose a Siamese nation
of oppressors and the oppressed:
a Janus nation whose face reflected
mockery of its supposed democracy.

My uncles’ hands were strong;
strong like steel hammers and anvils:
strong fisted hands breaking chattel chains.

Yes, my uncles’ hands were strong:
and the strong men just keep coming on…!

by Robert Isaacs Chiwala |
Categories: desire, dream, feelings, love, romance,

I Will Be True

It is not just beautiful pictures
I want to have with you
It is about the joys that come
Only when I am with you

My love be not fraud
For it is a spring within me
That never runs dry all times
Surviving even the desert weather

It is not about the favours I am trying to gain
It is not just attention I am trying to claim
It is your heart I am longing to blend with mine
To unify our beats like Siamese twins

by Chrisdad Kojo Arthur |
Categories: best friend, brother, family, friend, friendship love, lost love, love,

Till Eternity

Even if sh** goes sideways,
I will never forget the good old days 
When we used to ride or die the affair
Stuck with each other like the siamese pair

In the end, 
You still my friend. 

When we get to crossroads,
Just make your choice outta loads
And I will go with the flow 
In case you change your mind, find me at the same spot we left off on the low

And I'll be there
Till eternity my Dear!!!

by Danielle White |
Categories: animals, funny, love

Beloved

Suki's fur is soft as silk,
colored like the cream of milk,
eyes the hue of polar ice,
purr-box is a loud device.

Suki's tail has much to say,
boldly striped, her genes betray,
momma was a Siamese,
daddy was a lesser breed.

Rescued at just four weeks old,
so small, we had to gently hold,
she's the sunshine in our home,
with love for her I wrote this poem.




(Suki is Japanese for 'beloved')

©Danielle White

by Yoni Dvorkis |
Categories: love

The Realm of Possibility

Life is given by default
Om of secrets locked in vaults
Veer off course, attack, assault
End is nigh, reprieve exalt

In my mind lay sacred realms
Solace for the overwhelmed

Always and forever
Love be stolen, never
Lost connection, sever

Truth cannot compromise
Heaven lives on hell's demise
Everlasting lover's eyes
Reach for gorgeous clear blue skies
End is nigh, remove disguise

"In a dream we are connected
 Siamese twins, at the wrist"*







*quote taken from Smashing Pumpkins 'Geek USA' off of Siamese Dream.

by Miike Rogers |
Categories: body, desire, emotions, love, passion, sensual, trust,

Siameas Siblings

It is at that repetitive 
moment,
when two try so hard to become 
one.

Under quilt and comfort 
and comforter and
sheet and down
under cotton 
under skin

A beast with four tangled legs,
two backs, heads peering,
eye's closed over shoulders,
one dangling arm, numb.

It is at that repetitive 
moment 
when cords reach, connect

Try so hard to become
one.

A heat that sooths and quenches
our inherent need for a 
Siamese sibling.

by Johnny Rhinem |
Categories: art, baby, cancer,

Siamese Twins Twined of Love

Looking at Hyde in disbelief, while he smiles then pulls my hair ?
Lying atop myself feeling his baby's breath, chuckling; trying to dream..
Kicking our little feet tiny toes twinkling nursing, love's, blue bottle a sudden 
Kiss upon the brow sparkling these joyful eyes reaching, to beauty's sky; rapturous
Stirring deep inside slobbering on my cheek crying, Daddyyyy, he poo poo on me; laughter.

by Victoria Anderson-Throop |
Categories: animals, childhood, blue, me,

My Siamese Kitten's Eyes Child's View

MY SIAMESE KITTEN’S EYES

Does my face look blue to you?
Eyes so bright and tiny too
I know your eyes can see me smile
See me coming from a mile
See the food put in your dish
See the bowl that holds the fish
Blue, blue eyes --I love them so
In the dark they even glow.

by Alkas Poetry |
Categories: allegory, allusion, fantasy, imagery, metaphor, sister,

Love and Poetry Inseparable Forever

Love and poetry, inseparable siamese sisters ever

by Tony Bush |
Categories: life, love, nostalgia, sad, time,

Miss Us

I miss us
the way we used to be
you lay down on me
Siamese for hours
wrapped legs
beneath my thighs
and ground your love
into my steel 

I now feel
no sense of love
behind blue eyes
remnant dregs
of dust and flowers
and gradually
we are a memory
I miss us

by Bantu West |
Categories: art, for her, kiss, life, sexy, sleep, sweet love,

Socks

Conceived of wool and birthed Siamese
In grand factories by hands unheard.
My socks move into separate drawers
Like orphaned siblings.

Soon
Each of my six pairs are strangers
that move in perfect lockstep
inside loafers in offices, brogues in churches and Chucks in clubs.
Then—

For nights’ sakes, on the floor;
Rolled rainbows of imperfect donuts.
Who thinks of unmatched socks 
while he sucks in his gut to be a body stacked atop another,
to love?