Love Poems About Sundered or Sundered Love Poems
by L'Nass Shango |
Categories: imaginationgod, god,


And God said let there be light
 And butterflies appeared
 Sensuous as a moon
 On a fragranted night
 With jasmines in her hair.

 And God said in the beginning was the word
 And the cataract thundered
 In a kaleidoscope of white
 Wings like water sundered
 Dancing on the belly of a stream
 Rolling on the breast of the sea.

 And God said let there be love
 And moon came naked through the curtain
 And poet sighed
 Willing but still uncertain
 Where she will go when day has come
 And passions are mute as a stickless drum.

by Fading Star Silence |
Categories: angel, faith, feelings, hope, light, love, star,

My Destined Starlight

Lies whispered,
Seeking escape,
Soaked in caged deceit;
Mimes mocking withering 
Posies, left parched and sundered—
Suspended beneath obscured dusks,
Dripping amidst blinding aftermaths,
Idly shadowed by lewd scars of talons 
Amidst alcoves of echoing nocturnes 
Unshackled by your sweet afterglow, 
Healing me with the elixir 
Of our dawning horizons, 
Strumming eurythmic tunes, 
Suppressing starless 
demons, betwixt

by Fading Star Silence |
Categories: feelings, love,

Blue Glow

Braving storms, push and pull piercing my 
Parched soul, while glazed in flaxen mists
Framing lingering dew drops 
Consoling my warped core, 
As I drift amidst 
Sweeping mistrals 
Calling me 
To the 
Of our
Ocean home,
Swaying to tides
Eclipsed by sundered
Coral sighs glistening 
Upon glossed ripples bleeding  
Devout love encompassing my 
Frigid heart, seeking the warmth of you.

by Kunda Chamatete |
Categories: break up, heartbreak, lost love,

Things We Lost In the Fire

These are the ashes of what's left of our fire...
What to expect when electricity meets water;
Though our love has sundered, bittersweet polaroids and toffee greeting cards endure.
... When a house is lost to flames, one surviving photo is worth a thousand carats
And so I go with these memories that come ripe again to soul and bone,
A bounteous pension for the things we lost in the fire...
A bed of roses and a chest of knives. 
When a bough rustles a ballad but no one to sing to
She soon sheds like tears;
There is nothing anywhere but nakedness and wretch and sure days of barrenness...
No elastic smile, only guttering cheeks.

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by Viviane Leite |
Categories: introspection, love,


My brain
                          Should drain
                          The pain

                    My sundered heart 

                            But in vain     

by Mitch Green |
Categories: death, lost love, metaphor,


Was it my morale sense of transgression that warned me about the way her eyes batted murder. Sardonic, tongue slapping amusement pinching her tongue of poison spit. Tapered elbows and teeth, malicious monster of snarled locks, her hair taut with rope and lace. Artistic powder to smudge forth a veil of charm and allure, it was all the flavor of immoral nature. Dread drain lurker for besieged veins. Red velvet nectar defining her gloss lips, in sadistic law. Pale armor of a cold clammy casing, she sundered the glare of the moon. She sustained a garlic tolerance, whilst hushing a waxen flame. Might I neglect the fact of my pin spotted throat? 
-Mitch Green

by David Smalling |
Categories: inspirational, world, longing, universe,


I would away fly, but why dream
All I would leave  I keep to scream
The world is only me
And only I through the world stream
The farthest star is my extreme
Even more I'm lonely

It was so for God, then he spoke
Sundered now in three: no revoke
Adam imaged that pain
Could not utter what did provoke
The inner urge that longings stoke
Yet woke without complain

I too a longing bear in me
Something deep, fast like gravity
My weighted whole desires
Self trapped in its own sweet beauty
Through love to find infinity
When self from want retires

David Smalling 
"Do not feel lonely the universe is inside of you"

by Andrew Fairchild |
Categories: death, endurance, loss, love, sad, wife, writing,

Sonnet 8 'In Honor of My Wife'

How Audacious, I, to think:  “I’ll make a book…”
To think that some will love to read my rhymes.
Approval’s a path I long ago forsook…
But still, I love to share my words, sometimes…
Because I hope the anguish we all feel,
By being read in me, helps some feel heard…
Because Joy is a Leaven in the Meal,
Because I hurt, and cannot heal – absurd?
I lost my wife, and never brought her home,
And I am broken, sundered… my hope is shed,
And so, I write, and hope I’m not alone,
That I can make her Live, still, though she’s dead.
And so, I think I’ll make my book for HER,
And to God’s kind Judgment, I will defer…